Friday, Oct. 20, 2023 - 8:20 pm.
We did it. We signed the deed. The apartment is (almost) ours. The owners signed it away today as well, and now we're just missing a signature from the bank, which hopefully will happen early next week. Up until last week, it seemed that nothing was happening and then, on Tuesday afternoon, we had to scramble trying to change our schedules so we could schedule a trip to the notary the next day.
I feared moving around town on Wednesday because it was the 4th anniversary of the massive social uprising that led to trying to change the Constitution (all that then went to shit, people whose eyes or lives were ripped away for the cause be damned). Our university closed and kept all work remote, which was a major pandemic throwback. Some businesses were also closed. All in case riots or something happened. But everything was calm outside, and having fewer people on the streets worked on our favor.
Normally we wouldn't move into the apartment until the transaction is completed, and that might take at least another month, being optimistic. But I told Andrew, what if we offer to rent the place in the meantime? We'll pay double rent in November, as we still have to give our 30-day notice in our current apartment, but that would give us time to see the apartment, change and fix whatever's needed, and move our belongings at our pace. The owners agreed! We might start moving in next week, as soon as we get the keys (owners live out of town, unfortunately, so we can't just meet whenever).
I'm still appalled by how expensive buying a property is, and I'm glad we bought an apartment and not a house. There are so, so, SO many hidden expenses behind the advertised price. We tried to give a high down payment so the mortgage wouldn't be too much of a burden to our finances.
The high down payment was my life savings. I've been saving since I was around 12 (I think? That's the narrative I have in my mind), when my mom opened an account for me and encouraged me to save, bless her forever. I've carried that money from bank to bank and country to country, taking amounts here and there, but always trying to increase the amount. And here I am now, I bought us a home with that. With that money, or at least with that habit.
(don't worry, I keep saving and I still have an emergency fund)
Other things happening:
Last week, within two hours, I was notified of three things of mine getting published: A scientific article that I wrote with Brother #3 and Andrew; a review of my novel; and a short story of mine in an anthology by a major publisher. You know how I always complain about my writing whereabouts? I'll complain again.
I can't promote the scientific article because it deals with the situation in my home country, and my brother still lives there. Things are ugly there and I don't want to draw any attention to his work from unwanted audiences. He's proud of what we've done (it was his idea) and he knows the risks, yeah. But I'm scared for him, so I won't post it on social media.
As for the review of my novel, I think it was mostly praising my work but I didn't dare to read it because reviews make me anxious. I skimmed the text and noticed the author of the review said I was inspired by the coasts of Chile and I was like BITCH! NO. We've never even talked so he can't just go and fucking say where my inspiration came from. Also, I describe the changes of seasons in the book and from that it's very clear that I'm not talking about the Southern hemisphere.
The short story, well... I don't know. It's a queer story. I suppose promoting the book means having my parents tooting it without reading it, and then they'll read it. It sucks that I'm 38 years old and this is my excuse for not promoting my short story, but the whole thing just makes me feel... a mixture of anxiety and anger. I hate that my parents think they must read (and comment on) everything I write and must show it to friends and family. The novel was not written for people with certain mindsets. It's not a compliment to say you read my stuff if you add a "although I didn't quite get it". Just don't.
But hey! I got published. I got a bit of promotion. It will of course lead me nowhere, but this should keep me from saying that nothing ever happens with my writing.
Lastly, this week has been very fulfilling with me, in terms of working with students. Although I should talk about one heartbreaking interaction first.
On Tuesday, my undergrad course had a test. Shortly after, one of the students showed up to my office, along with a classmate of hers. I saw her face and knew that something was wrong. I let them in. She said she couldn't show up for the test because she'd overslept, and had been dissociating, and from her whole stance I just knew, you know. I knew what was coming.
She held her classmate's hand as she told that she'd been sexually abused recently. Very recently. She said she was still making sense of it all and so she was all over the place. I almost cried twice in front of her, I tried to keep my voice from breaking as I spoke. I went silent for longer than I should have when I said I was thinking of alternatives for her to take the test because I just wasn't thinking. I couldn't. I had trouble concentrating for the rest of the morning and when we came home for lunch at noon I cried on Andrew's shoulder.
I'm not sure if triggered is the best word to describe my reaction. My body was surprisingly calm, so it wasn't about that. I just felt for her. I felt for her so much. I felt sorry, I felt protective, I felt angry, I felt like going out and setting everything on fire for her and so many like her. I could see this pink-haired girl just fading away in front of me, as if a piece of her had been ripped away from her, while she was struggling to go on with her life.
I will check up on her this week.
Other interactions with students have been from a positive angle. This week I accomplished two little dreams of mine that I had: to have students wite guides on how to support LGBT+ people (undergrads), and to direct a writing group to just block out time and write on academic texts (postgrads). I'm also guiding an undergrad group to prepare their presentation for a local conference next week. Their presentation is on media representation of trans people, which was the subject of my PhD, so I think both sides are having a blast with this.
OH. And I came out on a recorded interview. AGAIN. The gender equality unit is working on some sort of good practice guides for diversity (I beat them with my students' guides) and they sent a student to interview me. Mind you, this unit is not so great, the university does a lot of things for the sake of image. But there you, some things get done, including interviewing me.
I spoke my mind. I said relevant things. The student seemed very thrilled with my answers. At the end of the interview I decided to say that I'm not straight, to make the point that these issues are mostly thought of in terms of students. They're the queer ones. Yeah, but what about your queer *colleagues*?
Then, off the record, the student came out to me. Which I thought was very sweet, and it made her reactions to my answers have much more sense.
Ok, I'll stop here. This and next week is just hectic, with barely time to breathe between commitments regarding teaching, research, and decision-making committees (it's so much better to spend time with students than with colleagues who talk a lot but say nothing). But I feel accomplished. I'm getting things done. I'm ready to fight if I have to.
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