Friday, 04/12/02 - 4:59 pm.
It's going to rain again. For three nights in a row, it's been raining. And it's going to rain again.
I had to work part of the day at school with the KR team (or do-it-all, it's the same). It's not that bad. Roberto and I have become closer. He's just the sweetest guy in the world. I was sitting in a desk in front of his, and he turned around and said to me: aw, you're very cute, I love you so much. He's the kind of person you can show all of the love you feel about him, knowing that it's nothing beyond a beautiful friendship.
On the other hand, I asked Carmen something. Something irrelevant.
- Hey, Carmen...blah, blah, blah, blah?
- what?
- I said if blah, blah, blah, blah?
no response.
And she didn't responded. And I got very pissed off. She doesn't listen. She doesn't make an effort to listen. True, she was cutting some letters, but if she was that focused, she could've told me not now. I had to go somewhere outside the place we were working in, and the whole time I could only think of how bizarre that was. She ignored me, because she wasn't capable of stopping her ridiculous task for a moment and listen to my question and answer it. It even was a yes or no question. I remembered why I don't trust her. Why I don't consider she's a good friend. Because she never listens to me. Just like Veronica. Just like everyone else. I listen to them. why don't you never tell me anything about you?.
Because you interrupt me, saying that some part of your body hurts, or saying that you know that, you've been there, that my issue is nothing and you've been through worse. Because you're looking around when I talk. Because when I'm done, you start talking about you.
That's why.
Last night's party was somewhat a disaster, because they weren't selling alcohol. The people who was behind the organization did nothing (Society girls, what was to be expected?). Only Carmen, Norman, Fo and a boy named Julio had to stand through all that mass that was pissed off. Things got ugly, because the kids that went to that party expected it to last until morning and to have beers sold. And that was in the contract. But apparently, they mistook the party, thinking it was for college students. When they found out they all were minors (something that had already been specified), they decided the party was going to be called off at 11:00 pm, and no alcohol. Which definitely wasn't a bad thing. There were no drunk people. Hell, they're fuckin' minors. Inmature kids who pretend to be the kings of the world. And they got pissed off because there was no beer. The four of them (C, N, F and J) were about to cry. The police could show up. In fact, the night before they had. They took everyone under 18 with them. And it could happen again. Thank God, it didn't,
Damned fuckin' kids. I hope they die because of their unconsciousness in a near future.
I smell like Javier. But not like today's Javier. Like Javier when he was just born. And by the way, his birthday it's on sunday. Anyway, this smell of baby powder not only reminds me of him as a little baby, but also reminds me of a book named Rose, my sister Rose, by Alice Vieira. It's really good. GO READ IT!!!! It's amazing. This girl Mariana, 10 years old, talks about how peaceful her life is, until her sister is born. I love the way she sees the world. Yes, go read it.
I'm hungry. And Caroline In The City will be on soon. This sitcom is about a cartoonist in NY, so I'm bound to watch it. I also have to work on Angel's, aka Head, gift. He's leaving this friday. He's going to Canada.
For good.
People was screaming everywhere that I was a grown-up already. It'd be nice if they saw me there, curled up in bed, with tears in my eyes and in my throat, feeling homesick, missing my mother - Mariana (a girl from a book I love).
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