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The Landlord's Journal

Name: The Landlord's Journal
Rating: 4.1 (8 reviews)

Recca Tan

4.1

Modern

66 Chapters

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Page1. My name is Jos. Not Jose, just Jos. There is no 'e' at the end. I was named after my dad, Jose, and so to prevent confusion, he named me Jos. He said it sounded cool at the time, and kept it. You can even check my birth certificate. Though, it did occur to me that the typist at the Civil Registry Office could have just made a typo. I am 20 years old, single and I live with my mom in Los Baños, Laguna. Mama inherited this huge boarding house because her mother, my Lola, passed away, and she was the only living relative. We just moved here last summer. Mama is the new Lady of the House, while I am the new Landlord. Page3. My journal. Who would have thought writing could be so exciting? What has gotten into me? Nah, I think it's because I have time on my hands and there's nothing to do. The old girls – the ones who have been living here before – have extra-curricular activities, while Mama is entertaining the two new ones. No, I don't want to join them. I am just shy of 6 feet in height, with black hair, black eyes, a tall nose and a wide mouth. I am not athletic but can last more than two rolls in the hay, consecutively, thanks to Melanie's expert training on endurance. My area of expertise is going deep. (Naughty grin!) Page9. Jo is here. Didn't she go home? I remember, she left the house yesterday, and here she comes into the courtyard from the direction of the chapel. She's wearing a dress, colored brown or beige. Whatever it is, it's a dull color. I hate dull colors. Okay, here come Mama and Jo. Jo is eyeing my journal with a cocked eyebrow. Does she think she knows what it is in there? Why am I concerned all of a sudden? We hardly talk. We hardly even make eye contact. WE ARE NOT FRIENDS! Page37. Though I wouldn't admit it out loud, I was beginning to get worried too. I would wake up in the middle of the night remembering my last words to her. "You know what you are? Frigid. I don't want you. What was I thinking?" If she was dead, those words would remain on my conscience forever. Mama refused to listen to the rumors, insisting that Jo was still alive, out there, somewhere. She wouldn't let anyone rent the room and refused to take any of the things out. Weeks became months and months became years.

Chapter 1 Page1 - Who Am I

My name is Jos.

(Jeez! Do I have to do this? Is this going to turn out like one of those autograph books we passed around in high school? What's your favorite color? What's the meaning of love? Who's your crush? What is your Motto and explain why? Groan!)

My name is Jos. (Yes, I wrote that already.) Not Jose, just Jos. There is no 'e' at the end. I was named after my dad, Jose, (no, let's not talk about him, this assignment is not about him!) and so to prevent confusion, he named me Jos. He said it sounded cool at the time, and kept it. You can even check my birth certificate. Though, it did occur to me that the typist at the Civil Registry Office could have just made a typo.

I am 20 years old, single (duh!) and I live with my mom in Los Baños, Laguna. Mama inherited this huge boarding house because her mother, my Lola, passed away, and she was the only living relative. We just moved here last summer. Mama is the new Lady of the House, while I am the new Landlord.

I'm taking up Development Communication, with second year status. I'm actually in my third year of college, but since I'm a transferee from my old course in Quezon City – Business and Communications – the College Admin credited only half of my subjects, on the basis that there is no such course here in Los Baños. And all the while, I thought I was taking the shortcut to graduation.

I am unattached (but not for long! Or short! Get it? Short? Hwa hwa hwa!) and I believe in having a positive outlook in life!

Truth be told, this is my first time to write a journal. The professor of one of my subjects, Communications 101, has required us to keep a journal for the whole semester. He said it would help us develop our observation and composition skills. I doubt if I'll be able to last THE WHOLE SEMESTER because it is such a hassle, trying to remember what happens to me every day and putting it down into words that will somehow make an impact.

I'm not very good at remembering things that way. I prefer to live my life and then tell its story. That way, whatever lessons I'd learned, whatever experiences I'd encountered, I could arrange them into tales that had a beginning, a middle and an end. Although, I haven't had much of a life to tell, really.

Unless you count my life as a gigolo. Gosh, I miss Melanie! (Did I just write that down? Sh*t! Well, it's already there, might as well run with it.) Who is Melanie, you ask? She was just the one woman who understood me – my needs, my wants, my more important NEEDS – and I didn't have to beg her for it. It just happened. Maybe I'll pay her a visit one of these days, when I have the money. Just for old times' sake. Maybe this time I'll bring her a gift.

Ok, so back to this journal thing. Let's give it a try. What happened to me today?

I woke up, got dressed, grabbed a bite of breakfast and headed out to class. That's it? That's it. Oh, there was a rally going on at the Humanities Hall Front Lawn, but I didn't join. What was it all about? How the h*ll do I know? I didn't join because I didn't know anybody there!

This is ridiculous! I'm not doing this anymore!

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The Landlord's Journal

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