Entries for April, 2008

April 1st, 2008

sumwhere, summer

I don't know what's with this summer but as days progress, I can only wish that classes resume and I be back to work.

A to-do list for this summer is up and I'm really fired in completing all the tasks I enumerated in my head. Fingers crossed I will have a paper ready for publication by the end of the break. But with my mind already fast-forwarding to June, I don't think I can accomplish anything.

What's wrong with me: when this summer feels the best yet-- not too humid noons, rainy afternoons, cold nights? Not so summer-y this summer is and I like it. Because it is so wrong, it feels so right. Like wearing a jacket on summer.

Ha! Lucky me, I chanced upon the last jacket in Toby's. Without queuing for it or reserving ahead, this precious jacket is now on my sleeves. AND it fits both cathy and myself. Woohoo! Can't wait for summer to end.

And when it ends, that elusive research paper should've been submitted to the editor. That's how this summer should be--productive. That's what I should do this summer.

Day one started last Monday. Start working, Jope!

Posted by meetjopeblack at 11:25 PM | 1 bench press(es).

April 6th, 2008

irreplaceable


meetjopeblack
I like what i have with Cathy. It's not happy happy. Neither is it its opposite. Our relationship is getting deeper and deeper. Just last night we were chatting about our families till we both fell asleep. Nothing grand, we talk. We laugh. Together. Yes we do. While watching the Beyonce Experience dvd, Cathy did her own b-bounce-baby-bounce move, that was a good giggly laugh we had which ended in an embrace. It was a sweet laugh, a warm embrace, if you can use those adjectives to laughter and an embrace.

Same goes for Amy Winehouse's concert. Shaking like an epileptic, Cathy did her impression of Ms. Back to Black. And we laughed and got amazed by the artistry of Amy Winehouse. I discovered her songs through online surfing and made her listen to it. Our music tastes don't usually match but with Amy Winehouse (and Jack Johnson too), we clicked.

We're usually tired when night falls. Most of our energies are spent working and doing house chores. It's not that easy to have something spared for a together-time. But we do try and moments such as lying in bed, chatting or watching dvd, eating our Chubby Corn (not its real name), or sipping tea tarik or our version of Iced Mint Tea, is a gem.

We do fight also. And when disagreements turn into arguments then to rage, self-loathing or hate, vows and promises of forever are challenged. I am always the first one to want to give up. For a number of reasons. But we do continue to talk, not really to negotiate (married life is not a business transaction of favors and demands), we just talk. We listen. We let our hearts do the talking and listening. We allow our eyes to see what is there before us--the misery of hearts broken and the vulnerability of each's face, fuming mad, crying in pain.

Married life is not easy. Each day is a question of yes or no to love and to commit further. And the most difficult question to answer to any sucker for chismis or a hustler who asks but is not really interested in knowing, is, "how is married life?" I don't know if it's just me or my wife who's having difficulty in this question, but really, how can one encapsulate in one word the peeled and salted concept of romantic love? How can one explain in not more than a blink the very real concepts of fidelity, love, heartache, frustration, commitment, and hope?

Will people understand the story behind an expensive purchase of say, a daybed or a set of silverware? Won't on-lookers be prudishly grossed-out when we talk about this and that sexual position or be maliciously engaged when we share our fantasies? Will they not be defensive or scrupulously paranoid when we discuss our concerns about the other families we also married in our marriage?



Breaking up then would probably be the most devastating experience for a couple because they do not only fail in the single most deep relationship they have but also because they will also lose the only person that truly understands their new selves. I wish not for this to happen to anyone. It is death both psychologically and sociologically; I wonder how anyone can pick the pieces up after.
 

Let's not be too grim and melodramatic here. All I wanted to say is that, it's been a year (almost) and it was... well, it was. Many things have changed but I'm glad I'm going through all these changes with Cathy. I like how we deal with things, with the people around us, and the news that blanket our psychè. I like how we collaborate in driving (something we had to roughly plow through). I like our rented house and our Dodong. I like how we handle our finances. I like how we experiment on new dishes and compete on plating and table set up. I like how we never lost our sense of adventure and our whimsical road trips. I like our wedding pictures and all the memories of our wedding. I like the material and emotional surprises in our married life. I like Cathy and what we have. I like what we've turned out. I like the God I saw in our relationship. I like us, I like life. Needless to say, I love us.
 
 
 

Posted by meetjopeblack at 04:52 PM | 2 bench press(es).

April 25th, 2008

i thought i was cut for this


meetjopeblack

Cathy left for a a three-day work thingy in Bora today. I didn't join her; Bora doesn't appeal to me anymore, with the trash and the hordes of mass there and the hype and the expense. I'll pass up on it unless probably I be treated to Discovery Shores. Anyway, this entry is not about not going to Boracay. It's about staying home. Alone.

I have no problems with being by myself. As a seminarian, part of our training is to be comfortable with solitude, silence, confinement. And going through retreats and monthly recollections in my four years of stay in the seminary has taught me not to resist alone-ness. In fact, I welcome opportunities such as this to be quiet by myself and face my ghosts. This house by the way is so full of such entities, encountering them on a daily basis has lost the chill factor. What's more scary are the personal ghosts lurking within--ressentiment, regrets, mistakes of the past, things I rather have not done or have done in another way, etcetera, etcetera. I envy those who do not regret anything. Or is there really such a person?

It's only been a couple of hours since Cathy left and I don't understand my discomfort. I can have the bed for myself for the next two nights, what joy! But... I want her beside me. I don't have to cook for two anymore, but I do want to worry about food and cook for us. I want to do laundry with her, relax on a floater at the pool with her, read a book with her beside me watching TV, talk about hotdogs or how humid the weather was or what made our day or some kinky stuff. I want her here. The few hours she's gone makes me feel insanely insecure.  Which is a bit surprising because I'm always by myself here everyday until the sun sets and she comes home to me from work.

What makes this different?  Three sun rises and two sun downs.

I can stand silence, aryt. It's just that I miss my wife.

Posted by meetjopeblack at 03:00 PM | 3 bench press(es).

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