Reality Bites

Finding myself alone again this morning brought another fixation.  This time, I want to transfer my blog.  Huh, like people care!  Well, I got a private message from a 21 year old concerned person yesterday.  He was very nice (or maybe otherwise) by sharing his experience about how not too many people are fan of blogs and nobody’s going to see my pictures there.  I replied him a short explatnaion and a thank you.  I hope I did not make an impression that his words kind of made me think twice (about placing pictures in my blog page).  At least I know people I don’t know take time reading what I write.  Now that’s something!  I’m sure he’s going to be one of those who will keep checking my updates.  I’m not really sure, but maybe.  Whatever.  I dismissed the idea of having my own page.  The only reason why I wanted one, I guess, is I want my blog page to sound cool.  Like www.labrijoylabanon.com or www.realitybiteslabrijoy.com (this one hurts) or maybe www.myjourneyinlife.com and a lot more.  Sounds cool and fun huh?  But most of my friends and people I know are in friendster so what’s the point.  Again, I decided to stay.  However, I’m thinking about upgrading my account.  That would be $4.95 on top of my monthly household budget.  So not practical at all!!  I’m seriously considering it though.  I’ll probably try it for a month.  Yeah, mabye I will.  The only thing that’s holding me back from upgrading right now is because I only have a debit card.  I can use it but no thanks.  If hackers get a hold of my account and use it in their fraudulent activity, my good credit (I assume) will be ruined.  What a mess it would be.  Jeff’s going to be furious! I’ll forget about this blogpage upgrade at once, for now at least.  Ciao!

My husband will be back tonight.  I badly miss him.  As much as I find him very annoying (sometimes), his absence is worst and putting up with all our craziness is way better.  I can’t wait to see him.  It’s his 25th birthday today.  Wow, I was his age when we got married!!  I mentioned this to my youngest sister too.  And she was very nice (I meant the opposite) in stressing out she’s also 25.  Meaning Jeff is very young and could well have been my younger brother!  Hahahahaha!!  Ang buhay talaga.  Also, I realised, amongst me and my sisters ako ang pinakabata nagminyo.  Well, my youngest sister has approximately 10 months to break my record.  Dili lang unta.  Throw back, over a decade ago (why am I using words that further emphasize age… grrr) I planned to get married at 27 and have kids at 28.  Really, some plans don’t materialise.  Even if I get pregnant anytime soon, I will still have the baby when I turn 29.  Huh!!  How I want to have a mini-me and a mini-Jeff.  All mini’s of ourselves.  I giggle when I think about this.  I once had a conversation with my Ate Lablab and she told me having Audi brought a lot of changes in her as a woman.  Dili ko maka-relate gyud but I think I know what she’s talking about.  Do I?

I’d like to share this qoute I came accross while doing my online training.  "You cannot change your environment or the people you work with.  What you can change is your attitude."

I was talking about how unproductive the first few hours of my day was earlier.  True to my aim of doing something of importance, I accomplished my goal of taking my lazy ass off my chair and head to the library.  I printed what I had to.  How I wish my printer and the rest of my stuff from San Francisco are here.  Then I wouldn’t have to drag my lousy feet off the apartment to print my application forms.  Yeah, I need a job!

I just finished watching "BATAAN RESCUE".  It’s a documentary about the most daring rescue of World War II.  I’ve heard about "Bataan Death March" when I was in high school.  Being far from what is expected from a good student, in short bolakbol ko, resulted in me having little knowledge about my own country’s history.  Shame on me, yes indeed.  So, the movie helped me understand a little of what transpired during the Japanese’s quest for power over it’s neighboring countries.  How thousands of soldiers and civilians, both American and Filipinos, fought with the Japanese Imperial Army.  While nagtan-aw ko, I can’t even bring myself to imagine what those people went through.  Anger.  Terror.  Starvation.  Death.  Maka-visit kaha ko ani nga place in the future?  We will see.

I also watched a documentary about a Jewish woman named Edith Hahn and her struggle during Hitler’s reign in Germany.  The film’s title is "THE NAZI OFFICER’S WIFE".  This stood amongst the rest of the movies lined up on the shelves on one corner in the library (at least for me, today) , I suppose, because of the fact that Germany is going to be my home country for the next 3 years.  Ang akong na-learn from this movie, I’m sure, is not even a quarter of the events during that dark era of Europe.  I sure have learned bits and pieces though which is what matters.  After all, learning is and endless process.  It dawned on me too, that America has military bases in all countries they have fought war with.  I understand why.  I’m sure you do.

It’s Montag (Monday) again.  My husband will be on his 3 days training in another city.  Mingaw kaayo ko.  I noticed, everytime he leaves (for a period of over a day), my attention is fixed on something.  Worst is, I can’t seem to get myself out of it.  Like now.  I’ve been in front of my computer since 5:30am.  That’s right after my husband left.  It is 12:30 pm na.  I had so many things I had wanted to take care of since Saturday.  Apparently, as I have said, my attention was focused on something else.  I had originally planned to go to the library at 10 am.  Instead I spent (unproductively) my day on…

1) reading articles about Rudy Fernadez’s death in pep.com my sincere condolence to his family.  I cried after reading each article.  Made me wonder what my wake would be when I die.

2) checking my friendster, logging out, checking again and looking at some websites in between the process.

3) chatting for an hour with my bestfriend Jovy (something I don’t consider unproductive since we discussed about an important issue, not politics!).

4) and probably spent over 2 hours reading KC’s blogs in her official website.  She is so mesmerizing.  So beautiful inside out and her blogs captivated me momentarily.  By the way, she only has one OFFICIAL website.  One of her posts even says YIKES to those who pretended to be her in myspace and friendster.  Oh well…

5) created a multiply account and cancelled it twice (in an effort to become one of KC’s friends).

6) contemplated on cancelling my friendster account, posted a shoutout about it (which resulted in an error  maybe because friendster has filtered the word multiply), and eventually changed my mind. 

And as if some kind of force got me, I finally decided to close all the browers and start to get ready.  But not until I’m done posting this one.  I should exert more effort to control my "fixation problem" next and thus save my precious hours. 

Diri nalang sa ko kutob.  Maayong adlaw sa inyong tanan.

I’m serious about my goal of learning the German language.  I really am.  I have learned a few and below is my first short letter. 

Mein erste Schreiben in Deutsch.  Hallo! Mein Name ist Labrijoy.  Ich bin achtundzwanzig Jahre alt.  Ich komme aus Philippines.  Ich bin verheiratet zu mein Soldat Spc. Jefferson Corpuz.  Jeff und Ich bist in Deutschland. Ich bin studierend Deutsch. 

Hopefully, when my German vocabulary improves, I will write a longer letter next time.

I usually go to bed, to sleep that is, around 10 or 11 o’clock.  Last night, I remember going to bed at 8 o’clock.  Not because my eyes wanted to sleep though but more of to make Jeff realise I don’t feel ok.  Earlier that day, when he was getting ready for work, I asked him to return the free movies I borrowed from USO. USO which stands for United Service Organizations is a charitable corporation providing morale, welfare, and recreation services to uniformed military personnel and their families, but that’s not what I’m here to write for.  Anyways, I got a big NO from my dearest husband.  The refusal was brought about by 3 things, I guess.  First, he has to go to work.  Second, USO is in a different barracks.  Third, is I could retrun the movies myself.  I  could have well easily left the apartment and return them as quick as i can.  I chose to stay though and got on with my routine of cleaning the whole apartment.  Since moving here in Schweinfurt back in May 1st, my day is basically consist of waking up with Jeff while he gets ready to work out (every weekdays at 5am, huh), cooking his breakfast (and baon for lunch) and then help him get ready again for work at 8am.  I then have the rest of the day all to myself, alone in our apartment cleaning up any mess (washing the dishes), fixing whatever I can lay my hands on (although there’s nothing else to fix), watching the news, and get stuck 4-5 hours in front of the computer.  Going back, the free movies went nowhere.  I will return it whenever I can.  Never mind that I will have to pay $1 per movie each day.  I have 2!  I must have been a little tired last night because I drifted to sleep easily and never woke up until 5 o’clock.  That’s 9 hours of sleep.  I feel bad though for ignoring Jeff last night.  I’ll just make it up to him later today.  And yes I will convince him again, before he leaves for work later, to return the  movies.  If not, then I would have to get my lazy butt off the couch and return the movies myself.  Meanwhile, I have to go and prepare Jeff’s breakfast because he will be back in less than an hour.  What am I going to cook?  Suggestion?

Try to look back at your life and count the times that you had to let go of something… of someone… of a bitter memory?  When I was a little girl,  I have always hated one of the two people in my life whom I should love unconditionally.  The man who was never supposed to hurt me.  I’ve always hated my father!!  I questioned GOD for giving me such an unfair life.  Why are other children so proud of their Dad?  I had wished countless times that HE would take away the very life HE gave him.  Even at a young age, I knew that wish was doomed.  It’s not going to be granted.  Not that one.  So I clung to that little voice in my head telling me that someday I will be able to earn my own keep and leave everything behind.  Go to the other end of the world where I can bury all the painful memory.  Everytime my little body is beaten up, I would console myself by thinking my father will eventually get old and will never be able to lay a fist on me.  Every slap in my face and every blow in my head left scars in my broken spirit.  I always picture the day that he would be laying in his death bed, slowly dying in pain.  Dying alone.  I cultivated those thoughts for so many years.  Growing up, I learned to fight back by depriving him of any respect.  Treating him like the worst animal in a human form.  Until one day I realized I was slowly turning to be like the very monster I hated by hurting my younger sisters and other people around me.  How could I have allowed my father to turn me into a cruel person like him?  When did I start hurting the people I love and cared about?   I hated him more and I hated myself for having done the same thing who turned me into a monster just like my father.  I thought there will never be an end to my anger.  I thought I will never be able to forgive him.  But I have.  I can’t remember how it happened.  I remember though having a serious and long conversation with GOD.  I poured my heart out to HIM.  I asked HIM to touch the hearts of the people I have hurt.  I asked HIM to heal my broken spirit and find forgiveness for myself.  God’s power is above and beyond anything in this world that nothing is impossible.  I learned to accept my father in my life again.  I’ve learned to love him again.  He can never take away the scar left by those bitter memories no matter what but I can always try to forget and leave those painful memories behind.

It may have been just a mere coincidence when my mother in law spoke with me over the phone after Pacquiao won his fight against Marquez.  I don’t want to credit the fight for our reconciliation but maybe, just maybe, it has helped.  As I have disclosed in my previous blog, my relationship with my husband’s family hit rock bottom last year.  It was one of the worst thing I had dreaded and hoped not to happen.  I’m not trying to come out clean.  I know at some point I unknowingly aggravated the situation.  I’m sure they were devastated as much as I was.  But the person who got the worst of it is my husband.  Poor Jeff.  I can only imagine how hard it was for him.  Though I’m aware he would stand by me no matter what, it must have been so hard for him to constantly argue with his parents in my defense.  I tried to imagine myself in his shoe a few times.  Would I be able to turn my back on my parents?  I honestly don’t know.  Going back to that night, I don’t know how long the silence was until I finally said "Hello".  Her exact words were "Hello Joy, anak, I’m sorry".  There it was.  She’s said it.  That simple sorry instantly melted my pride away.  I’m not sure what really prompted her to apologize but I admired her for making the move because I would never have done it first.  My guess is that she loves her son so much that she would try, maybe harder, this time to put up with me.  After all, she can never change the fact that I am the woman whom her son married and love so much.  The same thing that I can never change the fact that she is my husband’s mom.  This time, we just have to learn to slowly accept each other in our lives.  I’ve learned so much from the experience and I would summarize the lessons learned as follows.

Lesson 1 - Stay away.
As much as possible stay away from your in-laws.  Oopss, do not detached yourself emotionally.  I meant, do not stay with them under one roof.  Read this: DO NOT STAY IN THEIR HOUSE.  Misunderstanding is inevitable when you live with people you don’t know.  We fight with our own family, how much more with people forcibly brought to our life because of marriage?  At first, it may be hard to live on your own but eventually you will learn to manage.

Lesson 2 - Say no.
Often, because of our effort to show respect, we forget to say NO. This is one lesson I learned the hard way.  When we were still in my in-laws house, saying no seemed to be not an option for me at all.  Come to think of it.  You eat their food.  You sleep in one of their bedrooms.  You take a shower and take a sh*t in their extra bathroom.  You watch your favorite show from their extra TV.  The list goes on.  It’s endless.  So when you are ask to do something which you honestly don’t like to do, there’s just no nice way of saying no.  Your only choice is to say yes.  So if moving out is not possible at present, learn to say No.

Lesson 3 - Talk it out.
At the first sign of conflict, there’s no better way than to talk it out with your husband’s parents.  It would hurt less to hear something bad about you straight from their mouth than to hear it from someone else.  Again, most of the time, in our effort to maintain a good relationship with them we tend to voice out our complaints to other people such as a common friend.  Like the old saying goes "May tenga ang lupa, may pakpak ang balita".  So to avoid culturing a small conflict that will eventually erupt into an unmanageble fight later on, talk it out with them right away.

Lesson 4 - Respect.
I believe respect is something you can not ask from a person. Not even from a small child.  You can never demand respect.  It is something given to you at a person’s will, not something you can request.  Treat your in-laws like how you wanted them to treat you.  Follow the golden rule: Do not do onto others what you don’t want others do onto you.  If we all try to keep this in mind, maybe life even amongst the people we do not like will be a little bearable.

I’m back in the blog scene.  The past 23 days, since my last blog, had been real busy for me.  My time was spent taking care of my husband and attending to his every whims and lambings the best way I can.  I’ve gotten myself used to the idea of making the most of whatever time me and my husband can spend together.  It has been this way since he first left for his Army training back in November 2007.  To this date, we’ve only spent a total of 38 days together, physically! Man, who can take that?  Wait, I don’t mean sex.  I can live without it.  More than anything else, the most painful part of being away from each other is the absence of comfort during those you-don’t-understand-how-I-feel days.  It is always easy to get by whenever he’s around.  The soothing voice.  The comforting touch.  The love in his eyes.  The warm embrace.  His mere presence.  All those I had in abundance for the past 3 weeks.  Fast forward to the present.  Here I am again.  Alone.  Locked inside my cold and empty room while my husband is on his way to Germany.  Knowing I’m going to follow him in the next 2 weeks is something I hold on to.  Dearly.  So for now, I’ll be patient (something I’m so poor at) and be content.

I wanted, so bad, to do one of the things I’m so frustrated at. Writing.  Truth is I did nothing but type and delete for the past 20 minutes.  I feel like I’m wasting my time.  It’s 3:49 in the morning!  Technically, it would still have been 2:49 had we not added another hour because of the Daylight Saving Time.  Still it’s late.  What the hell am I doing?  I’ve already spent a full 2 hours earlier trying to fix my page.  A futile effort because it even looked worst.  I will probably take a break from it.  There are things more important that I need to take care of.  One of which is my husband’s return from school on Monday.  I can’t believe I made it through 9 weeks of being alone.  Alone in a beautiful city with no one but strangers.  For 9 weeks my life seemed so confined and limited.  I had to stress myself physically by working long hours to make my mind sane.  When you are tired your body will demand rest by sleeping and your brain tend to not think in the process.  I am just so happy I will get to see Jeff again.

The EX. Yes, you read the word correctly. EX. I’m not talking about my ex-boyfriends but my husband’s ex-girlfriends and the complications their memories had brought during the early fragile stage of my marriage. Before I discuss my maybe-not-so-clever points about EXes, let me reminisce the events from my not-so distant past. I was committed to a person I wasn’t too sure of back when I met Jeff.  He on the other hand was in an on-and-off-and-has-few-extras kind of relationship. Ours was a whirlwind romance. A powerful love at first sight – at least on my part. I’ve always known I found the right person the very moment I set eyes on him. I stood my ground and refused to give up even when he turned down my pledge of love and loyalty a few times. He welcomed my offer of friendship though. I made myself available whenever he needed someone to talk to. My stubbornness and persistence paid off not long after. He fell on my trap (wink). I’m joking on that part. Seriously my mind spun like crazy when he finally said the words "I love you". We dropped our baggage and got married. A few days after my wedding, I suddenly had an urge to check on my husband’s wallet. I wasn’t too concerned about what his reaction would be. After all he just made me his wife and in the process gave me the right – maybe unwillingly – to mess with his stuff. Everything in it seemed normal – ATM, driver’s license, membership ID’s – except for a small yellow piece of paper with scribbled numbers and names. My husband said the numbers are those of his homeboys and homegirls from Japan and back home. When he went back to San Pablo and I was left in Hong Kong, I busied myself with stuff including checking the numbers from that small piece of paper I kept. All numbers were out of service except for one. A chaos was temporarily cast over my parade. The ex – who happened to be one of the few – is a close friend of the wife of my husband’s friend and whose kid is his godson whom he is absolutely fond of. Words spread like fire and in no time reached my husband. I wished I never took that paper. I wished I hadn’t taken it back from the trash, when he wasn’t looking, after throwing it away. The worst part about it is the pain I’ve caused him for doubting and not trusting him completely. Gladly, I was able to fix that one self-imposed problem. I’ve summarized how an EX–person can affect a present relationship. I’m speaking from experience, so don’t take this seriously. I could be wrong. So here it is.

Lesson No 1 – EXperience
If you have been in a previous relationship then you are somebody else’s ex whose present wife/girlfriend/partner dreads the mere mention of a word that rhymes with your name. So acknowledge the fact that he had once cared so deeply for somebody whom he may even had thought of marrying long before he found you. Chill. Get yourself a cup of coffee. It may help.

Lesson No 2 – EXpect
Most if not all relationships involves the family. Let’s face it. The ex-person may have developed a bond with your guy’s folks, brothers and sisters. Do not hate her for that. Hating her will not make you a better wife/girlfriend/partner. It will only stress you out. To some extent it can get in the way and may hinder you and your guy’s growth as a person in that relationship. There’s nothing you can do about it. If the communication line between your guy’s family and the ex is still very open, learn to live with it.

Lesson No 3 – EXpress
Do not live in a fairytale world. Be realistic. Don’t act happy when deep inside your anxieties are slowly building up. Speak up. Talk to your guy about how his ex and her relationship with his family affect you in some ways. Discuss the problem but beware not to act like a nagging wife. He might change his mind about you. There’s no need to freak out unless of course you feel your guy still cares for his ex. Then that’s a different story.

Lesson No 4 – EXplore
Instead of dwelling on things you can’t change, move forward. Every person is unique and has qualities that endear him/her to somebody. Don’t try to be the ex-person your guy had before you. It would be crushing to know if you are appreciated not for who you really are but how you act just like the ex-person. Good luck.

It has been 10 days since I left a life I should say is like that of somebody in prison. Prisoned not in a jail cell but in a web of constant emotional and mental attacks. My parents used to tell me and my sisters that the only wish they have for their girls is for us to find and be able to spend a happy life with the right person. Theirs was a marriage full of struggle in every aspect. I have so much respect and admiration for my Mom because she pulled everything through and made our family the way it is now. No matter what happens my family is going to be there and back each other up every step of the way. I’ve known a few men in the past long before fate and destiny brought me and my husband together. I knew from the very moment I saw Jeff he is the person God has long prepared for me. Our marriage, though not perfect, is something we treat as our lifetime prize. We chose one another to be each other’s lifetime better-half. We will be by each other’s side every step of the way. We always try to compromise. I’ve always known my husband’s loyalty belongs to me. One thing I never saw coming was the day when he had to choose between people he loves. I’m glad he chose me. We have learned and realized so many things during our recent separation. We just can’t live without each other. The love is so immense. With the messy situation we are currently in, leaving things the way it is for now we hope is the best thing to do. I believe time will help patch things up. Hopefully…

As far as I remember my parents never gave me a birthday party. Oh well, they probably had one for me when I was very young. Probably. I don’t know for sure. When I turned 18 I remember bugging my parents to give me 300 pesos so I can buy what I believe was the perfect jeans at that time. Hours and hours of crying didn’t help. It’s not because they didn’t want to give me what I want. They just don’t have the money I need. Last year, I made a list of the things I wanted for my 27th birthday. My list included a bracelet, nose and earings, perfum e, tank tops, shorts, watch and a pair of shoes. I had half expected each of my sisters to give me at least one of the things in my list. Again I never received any but then it’s ok. The most important thing I had wished for that time though was to be with my husband. I received the gift three months after. It was late but it didn’t matter. It’s my birthday again and ever wonder what my wishlist consists of? I only want one thing. I want my Jeff home. It has been four weeks since the last time I saw him. Some may say 4 weeks is too short. Not to me. I’ve been counting the days since he left and I can hardly wait to see him again. Always my Savior, he’s going to rescue me from all the the stressful stuff around. I am going through a tough period right now. It certainly has a lot to do with my husband not being around and me being left with his family. I wont discuss this in detail but married people who had gone through this know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s tough. I don’t need new shoes, clothes nor a watch. I just want my husband back. He’s all I want for my birthday. He’s all I want for Christmas. He’s everything I need in my life.

You can never repay your Mom until you yourself become a mother. I heard these words from my own Mom. She used to verbally slap us with those words in the hopes of scaring me and my sisters enough to make us not talk-back at her. Just be quiet and take in all the words that her big-and-loud-mouth wants to say. I’m not saying my Mom is bad. I love her. There just are times that she becomes too much. Too protective. But all moms are! When me and my sisters were old enough and started to think and talk about getting married and having kids, despite the absence of a boyfriend, the talks were always endless. We agreed that the oldest has to get married first. If the younger sister breaks the rule, then there is a price to pay. Literally. When I met and fell head over heels in love with my Jeff there’s nothing else I can think about but him and our future together. We got married. Well, I didn’t care paying at all. My husband is too much of a prize for me to even think of losing a deal to my sister. But that’s a different story. I’ve always wanted to have a child. I want to experience the feeling of having a tiny life growing inside my belly and eventually bringing him into the world. It was only recently that Jeff and I finally felt that we are ready to have a baby. We have been trying to get pregnant for the last three months before he left for training to Oklahoma two weeks ago. I’m not pregnant yet. I know for a fact that the more you want something the harder it is to accomplish it. For now I just have to comfort myself knowing that we can always try. Meanwhile, my sister and Kuya Ruel recently welcomed their own bundle of joy. Lrue Theodore Labanon Bansali was born via C-section on November 16 at 6:26PM. It’s weird. I’m officially an Auntie. I still have to get myself used to the idea that another person has been added to the family. It’s very overwhelming. I know my sister is at her happiest right now. Congratulations Ate and wish me luck on my quest for motherhood.

I’ve probably hit the backspace key of my laptop way too many times than I’m supposed to. If I wanna write something I should just hit the keys I need to complete the words, and eventually, the sentence that will describe the thoughts that are going on inside my head right now. But boy how hard it is!! Well it’s not gonna be hard if I’m going to just simply admit to myself that english will never be my first language. So what if I have to type and hit backspace gazillion times just to write a single sentence in english. At least I try. Yes T-R-Y. This three-letter word plays such an important role (please correct me if I’m wrong) in my life these days. Maybe not just for the past days. Maybe I have been trying most of my life. Trying to what? For what? For happiness? Absolutely! For wealth? Partly. For contentment? Bull’s eye!! Is it achievable? I guess not. Why? Don’t ask me because I’m never going to be able to give an answer. People who say that their lives are perfect and that they can’t ask for more… are hypocrites!! Am I a hypocrite? Maybe, a little bit. Maybe I have that little ugly monster lurking inside of me. That tiny little voice in my head that says there’s something I can do to change my life, more than how it has already changed. So what’s the whole point? Again, I don’t know. But there are a lot of things I want to say that just wont come out. Unfortunately my fingers which has all the capabilities of hitting the right keys lack the ability to feed itself with essential information that’s supposed to be coming from my brain. My brain which keeps the ugliest and the most beautiful memories that chronicles my 27 years on earth. What are those ugly stuff? A lot. Things that I have done, that I somehow failed to do and the ones that were done to me. Life is a vicious cycle of ups and downs, of good and bad, of nice and ugly. Oh boy, what am I talking about? You might think I’m on the verge of losing my sanity. Do I sound crazy? Whatever. I don’t really care. But let me tell you something I know about myself that you don’t. No matter how many times I convincingly say it. I do care. Saying that I don’t is like a way of protecting myself from the harsh reality that people, with their sometimes careless disregard for others feelings, still get through me. Hurts me. Crushes my confidence to an unimaginable sinking level. Wait. Are all these making sense? Or, like me, you are yearning for something to be spilled right in front of your very eyes that I seem to be hiding at the back of the thick imaginary walls I’ve built around myself? Again, I don’t know. I’ll never know for sure. At least for now…