V for Viktor

I owe this blog to Victor Ong II, an officemate, a friend.

He recently died yesterday because of personal reasons that I’m certain his family would rather wouldn’t want to be broadcasted on the world wide web.

Victor is married and if he wasn’t I would probably say he was a catch because he was smart and cute. He sounded like Bryan Adams on estrogen on the phone and I have a feeling that he is probably just trying to do that to muffle the psychobabble of his callers. We once sat together when I was still new and he kept throwing unsolicited advises often I thought he’d rather much take my call: “Don’t sound sorry, they’re gonna take advantage of you,” “Transfer the case to your supervisor, it’s beyond your control,” or “To hell with them. Tell them you can’t do it. You’re not superman.”

Even the day before he died, he’d still help me out and everyone else who needed it especially Rj who’d sometimes panic on his calls. Victor was very helpful but he will certainly make an ass out of you if you are a loser.

I love that he recently got into the habit of opening up my blogs and skimming thru them and never missing a day to tap my chair and say, “That recent thing you wrote made me laugh. Any updates?” Ah, someone a blogger loves – an ardent reader. There’s nothing keeping a blogger from stopping her posts but a reader who constantly wants updates.I keep telling Victor to instead of giving me snide remarks on my posts he will just post them with his initials on it. He didn’t. But he still kept on reading and tapping me on the back for something silly that I said. The last thing he said that I can’t forget is: “You’re blog keeps me young, Tin.”

I wish it kept him alive. I wish anything could have made him alive. Bye V for Victor, we — everyone you have sat stations with, your supervisors, your mentors, your teammates —  will all miss you in behalf of your Expedia family.

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persian palate

Waking up at 6pm is not my usual waking time so that means anything that would make me get up at that time only signifies 1. I have a date; 2. I’m seeing my beau; 3. I have a party to go and lastly 4. I needed to curl my hair before work.

Tonight, I had a date with the Persian guy who vehemently insists that he is not Muslim and he grew up in Turkey. We went for drinks @ my friend Apol’s bar in Mango and talked about his classes, my work, his siblings, my being the Eldest, his lovelife, and my lovelife. The last time he has had a girlfriend was 3 years ago because he claims he just doesn’t have time to have a girlfriend – but he has time to go on dates, I guess. I told him I’m going home to Mindanao and he was fascinated.

Him: “are you muslim?”
Me: “No. When I get back, I will be.”
Him: “Come on. I know you are Muslim.”
Me: “Fine. I am.”

He sobered at that. The Persian started inching his seat near me, placed an arm around my chair and talked to my ear. Ooh.. the place isn’t even that noisy. He started talking in Arab and I was lost.

and he did. I tilted my cheek and my lips met his! In public! But it was good and I let him and I knew that Apol’s staff was probably scandalized but I was glad for my Victoria’s Secret gloss in Vanilla.

Me: “What wash that? (the Smirnoff Ice was wearing thin)
Him: “I said I wanna kiss you.”

Thank you, Victoria. Hahah. I had to leave at 11 because of work and we were holding hands while getting to the car when I got a text message saying, “Hoy, Gianna. What are you doing with that Arabo!? What if ****’s friends see you? I thought you are so over men from the Middle East ahhahah!” Bummer. I forgot about my beau. Well, nothing to be guilty about. Nada. Shaking my head here. But i texted him I missed him just in case. Biting my nails here. Snip.

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ride high skirty, skirty high

I am so embarrassed!! I got out from the taxi when I arrived at work and while clutching my bag, a terrible – very terrible – very strong – very mean gust of wind blew and *gasp* caused my skirt to ride up to my chest! There had been no time for me at all to smooth it down because my hands were full! Someone did get an eyeful though. How embarrassing, I cannot look at him in the eye now. To think he is my exboyfriend’s cousin. Earth, swallow me now. I’m just glad i had on my best lingerie. It was sexy when Marilyn Monroe did it but there wasn’t any vent on the floor so scratch sexy on that.

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