Saturday, 04/02/05 - 9:30 pm.
At about 3 in the afternoon, a sudden wind started to blow, and now the temperature's dropping. About two hours later, I discovered that the Pope had died around the time the weather changed. "Oh, now it makes sense", I said to myself. I'm not very much into being superstitious, but with things like these, I like to believe. I always liked the Pope very much, and I'm sad to see him go. Rest in peace, mister Karol. You were a very special one.
Onto lighter subjects, I'll tell you my big accomplishment of the day: I drove. Three times. Three different cars. Twice by myself. I KNOW, OMG!!! *cough* I mean, it was neat.
First I took the gray car (the one that'll be mine once I get completely used to driving), and I went with my dad for gas...the man at the station was very kind to me, and when I had trouble starting the car, and the one behind started to honk, the man yelled "she's learning!". In the afternoon, I took my dad's car, the "gold one" and dropped him off at a vigil in memory of Archbishop Romero. Hours later, I took my sister and her friends to the same place, driving her car. And here I am now. I was laughing to myself on the way back home after dropping off my sister.
This morning, once again, I woke up with anxiety. Cold hands, knot in my stomach, nauseous. But I said to myself I wasn't going to think about Joseph. So I dived into other assignments, and I even ended with a headache. However, I got nothing accomplished, I haven't made any progress in my academic assignments, and that has me in a mild state of panic. Oh, but I have plans for this week, lots of 'em.
One being tomorrow's concert, the Festival of Truth. I'm so excited about it. My brother got me the ticket this morning, $3. It's gonna be such a Woodstock, with all those artists. It'll last at least six hours. AND, I will take pictures for the Psychology Billboard. This guy will perform, he's in charge of the Psychology Lab and was the lead singer of the only national band I've ever liked. His band left for Liverpool (!), though, and he decided to stay. Very talented, let me add. International performers are coming, too. I've heard their names and tunes here and there, but I'm mostly going for the rush.
I just sent a message to Joseph, about me driving today. I felt like it. Surprisingly, he called me, he's at home with a friend, watching cartoons. It was short and not nasty. Well, he called me crybaby, which I hated. I'm contemplating sending him a message about that. I'd thought of saying it face to face, but given it's materially impossible to have a conversation with him, I might.
Oh, he asked me about the Festival. I called you [last night] because I wanted to know if you were interested in going, so I could get you a ticket. I can't anymore, and they'll cost $5 tomorrow. That made him hesitate on his previous offer, "do you want me to go with you?", and so I guess he isn't coming. Yeah, I'm glad he isn't coming. It hurts to say it, but I am.
Regardless of my plans right now, I'm bored. I can't wait for tomorrow, though, and I can't wait for monday to buy a cold capuccino and go sit on my spot.
I dreamed of chickens. Somebody had chickens, and would remove their feathers and poke their eyes out. I remember walking by the yard, with a dozen chickens in it, and half of them had no eyes and no feathers. I cried the entire dream, and nobody seemed to understand me. They're just chickens!. I insisted on the cruelty, but they wouldn't mind. It was awful.
What would Freud say? I know what he'd said, I remember elements of my day yesterday, regarding eyes and birds, so I could very well elaborate an accurate explanation. But I'd like to insist on the fact that the emotions of the dream are because of Joseph. If I didn't keep my mind busy while conscious, I'd be a wreck.