It's been three years since I posted my last entry on another site and it feels good to be blogging all over again like it's my first time. Recent events have forced me to resort to blogging since I had no one to share my angst with, much less to listen and appreciate my raves and rants that some may find it too existential, and therefore too unimportant to care about than say, queuing up for NFA rice at the corner store.
One such event was the 1st alumni homecoming of the seminary where I attended college for three years. It was the first for the college after close to 25 years since it opened its doors to would-be priests.
I had mixed feelings in going to the reunion for at least two reasons: First, I am not a certified graduate of the seminary. I only finished third year because the balding fathers kicked me out before I could move on to my senior year. Nevertheless, I was and am still proud to be a "kickout." They kicked me out for at least three known reasons, at least as far as I can remember and ascertain. First reason is money. We were in financial trouble so I missed a lot of payments. Second reason is "fitness" to the vocation. They (the holy fathers of that seminary) didn't see as a priest material. Third reason is, to quote the priest who gave me the bad news, "I was rocking the boat."
Secondly, I was not sure if we share the meaning of the word alumni, the expanded and inclusive meaning especially. But I was too secure to be affected by these mixed emotions. So off I went to the homecoming.
The homecoming saw seven of us original batch members and one priest who joined us on our sophomore year.
Beer and merienda were served but what I was interested most was reconnecting with old friends whom I share beer and gin and Mompo and some nocturnal secrets with.
You cannot simply forget them, this I realize after years of not seeing nor having news about them. Friends aside, there too were the most despicable faces on Earth. But I could only say this with less contempt now. After all, I have been vindicated by their presbyterial stupidities, to say the least.
One priest is now married to a woman who gave him children "effortlessly." (Dig this). At least he is brave enough to take on family life and "divorced" his erstwhile lover--a co-priest who must have been a very good kisser. Who is "the who", tongues start wagging.
Anyway, the homecoming would have been a success were it not for the high priest who circulated his personal account number before the alumni and asked them to donate whatever amount they can for a still unclear project. What the f>&^^%%$!
I've lost respect for the man whom we fondly called "monsignor" during our time.
I have more horror stories to tell, but I have to restrain my fingers now.
5 comments:
Now, now, I know you. This priest who sired children effortlessly, wow, I never knew of the possibility that he could have been a good kisser! Naks, naks!
you thought the beer and the pulutan were for free, ha? whoever said that there is no free lunch, except among real friends. to go to a seminary reunion, that was it, this announcing of a bank account number, bwahahahaha! call in the levite, the tax collector, the san mateo guy.
BTW, what are those characters needing deciphering? Your loyal readers and I need to know. Do they mean what? I am laughing, coz I see the big R in those, the big R: rage and spite and wit and laughter.
That's RAGE for you, sir. But don't overlook the $ sign. It's really deliberate. And I know that you know what this means to them: MORE MOOLAH PLEASE! Thy kingdom come, but money down moron. It's like buying paradise in Quezon Ave.: Money down, before panty down.
Holy cow! So that is how low their low-life has become? Incredible!
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