Wednesday, Nov. 15, 2006 - 9:29 pm.
I've been meaning to write, because I'd like to document some things that I, um, already forgot. Shame. I do remember that yesterday I HUNG OUT with my friends, which hasn't happened this whole semester, with us being busy and all that. But finally, the five of us got together to chill out (even though it was originally to discuss a paper).
That same afternoon, Irene told me she saw Melvin the day before, and he asked her to say hi to me. My heart melted. It'd been his birthday the before, I sent him a message through one of those online profiles. But I thought it was so sweet that he sent me a hi. I'm not "in love" with him, precisely, but I'm deeply fond of him, in a very particular way.
I'm neck-deep in assignments that are due yesterday, but I still deny everything and dive into the amazing world of bracelet-making. Victoria and I are almost covering have covered our initial investment, and for the time being, we have enough material to finally get some profits.
Tonight I decided to skip class and go talk to my Psychological Treatment professor. I've had all sorts of perceptions about him since the semester begun. I remember having a HUGE crush on him when I was eleven (ha!). He came back from Spain to teach this semester, while he finishes his looooong PhD grad paper. When classes started, I thought he was full of himself. Then I realized he knows so much (I suppose you could forgive that sometimes it seems like he brags about his studying abroad and all his knowledge...after all, it is an impressive resume).
I looked for him in the afternoon, but he was out of his cubicle. I only wanted to ask him how you could tell in real life a bipolar I from a bipolar II, and III and IV. But we started talking about what university had done to my brother, regarding the scholarship (he had to pay $30,000 when he came back, and wasn't informed until a week before he left, so he had to give it up), and in general, the rotten attitude of these jesuits in particular. He even told me some problems he had himself, with Mr PhD, who didn't let him attend a congress, because it'd be "irresponsible" to leave his students for a couple of days.
We must've talked for 45 minutes, and it would've gone on, but a lot of my classmates were waiting outside to talk to him. But he did answer my question; to begin with, I wasn't sure what a maniatic episode was. He's so good at finding the core of the conflict, I wasn't aware that I didn't understand the bipolar classifications because I didn't undertand the manic part of manic-depressive. But I say that because I've seen him before find said core, in other situations.
How old were you when we first met?, he asked. Because he was my brother's classmate, and used to come to my house. I was eleven. He said we'd never had a chance to talk face to face, in this student-professor context...he likes talking to his classmates, in general, though I can tell he analizes everything (hence he can find that core). So he asked me what I thought about the subject, my goals...
...I explained to him that I wasn't sure what to do after graduating. I'd like to go abroad and keep studying, but at the same time I'd like to stay here. He had the same conflicts; when you think in terms of yourself, you'd love to live away from this mess, but looking around, you feel you can contribute, even if it's minimal, to your context. Nature calls, I guess, this is where you were born, so you're drawn to give something back. I think that with your aspirations, the way you are...you can stay here and create an impact, even if it's small.
Man, this guy is so good. Everybody would love to have one of these in a room in their house.
To make it short (too late, I know), I promised I'd lend him Prozac Nation, because he hasn't read it, and in his grad paper he's taking depression as a factor. It could shed some light, although I'm sure he's seen a lot of people with depression before. So I'll see him on friday and maybe we can chat some more. It was fun, indeed.