Friday, 12/07/01 - 11:46 a.m..
Yesterday I went to pick up Renan at 4. On my way to school, a teenager showed me the finger. As strange as it might sound, I didn't care and just looked at him as if he was a tree (I mean, an indifferent look) and another teenager almost hit me. The motherfucker was driving way too fast to be in the parking lot of a church (the shortcut to school), let alone he was driving the wrong way. I hoped he'd get killed. Just a quick look at his face told me what a piece of crap he was.
Anyway, I picked up Renan and got back to church to see a Brownies' show (Rebeca is a Brownie...aw). I left home at 3:30 and I was back with the kids at almost 5:30. I walked a lot. House-through_church-school-church-house. Before supper, Renan got mad, at it almost costs him his new Harry Potter book, which got him even madder. At about 10 pm, Rebeca woke up screaming, as if she was possesed or something (God knows what was in her mind). I'm surprised the neighbors didn't show up to ask what was going on. Gosh, her screams hurt my ears and she wouldn't shut up. It costed her dad's-rage-with-a-belt. Three times.
I would have stopped him, but what do you tell a parent when he's beating his child (for what Renan told me, his dad's belt doesn't hurt *that* much...physically speaking)? At that moment, he's got a vegetable brain, he doesn't understand. So instead of saying something stupid that might have gotten him madder, I had to I shut up. Of course it sucked. But unfortunately you can't go tellin' parents how to treat their children, although they need to be told. If my brother had worried more about talking to Renan that trying to punish him, he'd have listened to what I listened (I talked to him). Renan wants to spend more time with his dad and mom, when they're not stressed or angry.....well, many things that I don't wanna repeat for being so complex. But I just couldn't help feeling sorr, pity for this family, my family.
We put off my visit to my brother's work, again. It doesn't bother me. At all. I'll get to see Rendez-view. Apparently, today will be their best show ever. The blind-daters finally kiss, the couple finally works out (*clap*clap*clap*). So I should go back and edit last entry. Not everybody that goes to that show is as miserable as I thought.
Well, I received some messages from people about my luck with Aerosmith...or the lack of it. Well, just three people, but it helped me to feel better. Just the fact that they're sorry about it, it's like they understand that I'm! a! huge! Aerosmith! fan!. There was one really special, coming from my friend Michelle. I read this email she'd sent me and made me cry. I mean, she pretty much sum up my feeling. She told me that she knew that this evening must have been really hard for me. She knew that I must have been counting the hours saying: now they're going onstage, it's time for the encore, they must be finishing right now...nooo! I want to go!. She's been through the same a lot of times. It made me feel a whole lot better because...well, she likes Aerosmith as much as I am, she told me I was a real fan...she thought of me and knew how I was feeling. She made a difference. She's a great friend...and a hard-die Aerosmith fan, to make things even better.
On the other hand, this guy I mentioned, that was going for the first time, had the time of his life. And he did a great review of the show. He really deserved it. And another guy, from the same Aerosmith board, got to meet Steven Tyler, who even asked him for his phone number. This guy analyzes Aerosmith music, he explains chords and stuff, he knows when Tyler's voice changes from one note to another...he's incredible, a real musician. He also deserved it.
For some reason, I thought I deserved it, too.....somebody shoot me, whether I deserved it or...fuck, I did deserve it. Somebody shoot me.
Besides complaining, I really have nothing interesting (isn't complaining interesting?) to say. I haven't been homesick yet. I'm a bit worried though, my brother got a virus and it forwarded itself to everybody in his contact list, and obviously my parents were there and they're kind of...not-pro at computer skills, so maybe they opened it and the computer got screwed (I believe, since they haven't written...but they might have called if they had gotten it...so who knows). Oh, no...then my Aerosmith rarities may be gone forever. One more thing for my "I'm a miserable Aerosmith fan" list.
About my "friends"...I haven't thought a lot about them either. I receive some emails, but from people I've never met in person or who are now living somewhere else, like my friend Mike, who went to my school last year and now he is in LA. Sometimes distance seems to bring people closer. One thing is weird, everytime I log in to the MSN messenger, there are one or two messages of people who added me to their list, and I barely know them. Most of them are the "populars" (which explains why I barely know them. They're cool, but not the type of people I'd hang out with). I have about 20 people on my list, and I never log in, because I don't want to run into any of them. I just don't know what to tell them. But for the record, they usually ignore me when we're online. So we're even.
As for the guy...He said he'd e-mail to let me know whether he got accepted to repeat 10th grade or not. If he hasn't emailed, screw him, he obviously doesn't want me to email him. I'll try to lose contact with him for good. I do regret I got so carried away for such an insignificant idiot but at least I got some important lessons. He can dress up as a woman and wear a now leasing neon sign every night.
But man, I hate to regret.
I don't know how I feel. I have good moments, bad moments, and worse moments. I feel...not bad, but not good either. Probably if I had something to look forward to I'd feel a bit of enthusiasm. But I don't. This thing that I thought it was bringing me to Houston for a special reason (besides the already special reason of seeing and helping a branch of my family tree) was nothing. I knew I was wrong from the beggining, anyway. There was nothing waiting for me here. Now that I think about it, I haven't gone OhmygoshI'msoexcited! in a long, long time.
Since I stopped being a real child, since I started to feel stupid everytime I'd tried to build a city with all of my Polly Pocket's and such. Since I realized that there's no Santa Claus...uh, well, I kinda always knew that. On TV, you always see Santa coming down the fireplace....well, in my country there's no need of fireplaces, ok? So I always thought that Santa Claus was meant to be for 1st World Countries where the temperatures are very low.
But for some strange reason, I always received what I wanted. Not from my parents or my brothers/sister. They were always givin' me something I really hadn't asked for (always cool stuff, though)...then somehow I was forced to believe in Santa and in baby Jesus (aawww). How couldn't I? Sometimes I didn't even ask my parents for this gift, because it was too expensive, so no one never knew that was what I wanted...yet I'd always receive it from somebody else.
Those times are gone, I think. Since I stopped asking for toys, I really don't ask for anything (Aerosmith stuff, maybe, but it seems that's nowhere to be found) so they really don't bother getting me anything. That's ok....I guess. And since the wishes (not "material wishes", like clothes or something) I make every christmas never come true, I really have nothing to be looking forward to.
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