I wasn't planning on writing this much tonight.
Wednesday, 03/29/06 - 9:15 pm.

Well, I'm less upset today. I got a shot in my arm, and I rode a bus from campus to the closest town (heh, three minutes away on wheels) to search for a man who could be our contact to the community we want to work with, for Communitary Psychology.

This community is built in a cemmetery, and inside the houses you can find tombs. It was built illegaly. Victor went there once when we were interviewing parents for the child abuse project, and he says it's neat. It seems to be safer than the average, too. Anyway, we couldn't find that guy. We'll try to sneak into the public school next week to find contacts among teenagers from that place.

Rule number one when working with communities: you never enter for the first time alone. You have to have someone from the community by your side, so the rest of the population will identify you properly. Etc.

I finally have my desk at the instructors' cubicle. I went in today and there was this mexican girl who's good friends with Victor. She's quite nice. She's an instructor for a subject I took in first year, and I was her instructor last year. At first I couldn't understand her accent, because she talks too fast.

Speaking of instructors, there's this cute couple that...looks up to me? I don't know, but they're so nice, and always call me "miss instructor". I was theirs for Psychodynamics and I am now for Social Psych. They asked me about something from Experimental Psychology, and I told them that if they needed help, they could look for me. Well, there's no instructor for that subject, so I guess we will. I believe they haven't figured out I'm their EP professor's sister. Then, I walked by them when I was leaving campus, and they started to spell out my name like cheerleaders. I was slightly embarrassed...I mean, I didn't know what to say. "Thanks"? I grinned and carried on.

There was going to be this sort of symposium at 3:20, between the psychology students who cared to attend and my brother (coordinator of the career), Mr. PhD (chief of the psych. department) and another guy, who's in charge of the psych. lab (he's a singer, as well, he was in a cool band).

People have the dumbest expectations from a psych. lab. But moving on, at the end of the thing there was going to be a raffle, and the prizes were two books and tickets for the parking lot. I got number 13. I was in for the second book, since I already owned the first one, and for the tickets; I take the car now, and I'd like to save the two quarters I pay everyday at the gate.

My brother drew number 13. Dammit. There was no one with that number, and later on, the girl in charge of the activity told me she was going to tell the guy yelling the numbers to pick the inmediate number if no one had the original. But she didn't. So I didn't win anything.

I came home early tonight. That always makes me feel nice. My mom's waiting for me, and so is my dad, and so is Frog, and yay. I'm not nervous by driving at night anymore, especially when Victor rides along. I drop him off at a bus stop, he gets home earlier and I don't drive home all by myself. It's funny all the time I spend with him. I think we are together longer with each other than we are with our significant other. Some people have asked why we never ended up together. Jesus, no. We're proof that XY chromosomes and XX chromosomes can be strictly good friends.

I love Joseph, you know, and I'm seeing him tomorrow. YAY, I say.

prev / next