Sunday, 04/25/04 - 10:45 pm.
Hi. My friends (the foursome minus Angie, because she's not taking the class with us) came over to study this afternoon. We did, but we didn't cover all the material. I ended up with a headache and we all ended up freaking out over tomorrow's midterm.
The good thing, though, is the breaks we take. I laugh so hard with them it's ridiculous. My life in college would be miserable without them.
Night fell over us so we orderered something for dinner. Then they left. But hey-ho, guess what? I drove Irene home!!! At night!!! I couldn't even turn the car lights on but no one got killed!!! I was all like, OMG!. After that experience, I feel more secure behind the wheel. Well, not really...or perhaps. What do I care?
Today's my nephew Renan 12th birthday. Lord, I just can't wait to see him in july. They (him and his sister) are coming from Houston. I'll try not to say "look at you, how you've grown so much". I've always hated it how relatives can't find a better comment to tell when they see you after a long time.
It's his birthday, too, yay.
- Me (to Cel): is that your cat? (the MSN messenger picture). Looks like a newborn. Newborns get their head squashed when they come out of the uterus. Damn, I wish I were a newborn forever. I'd be the physical manifestation of the freudian It. "A baby is the most useless thing that exists", my anthropology professor used to say.
That's me on a nervous roll, mixing three subjects related to psychology.
Today Rose (the housekeeper) brought crabs. They were all tied up and I thought "poor things". I gasped with horror when I noticed they were actually alive. "I thought they were sold dead!". Silly me, humans are cruel. How could I ever forget that?
She put them in water and fed them. People keep them out of water and don't feed them at all, and my heart was a wreck over that. I thought they could be tied up and all, and that was ok as long as they were dead, so they wouldn't suffer. I told Rose to please untie them and put them in this sort of huge sink (something that every house in this country has...it's just a big water deposit) to make their last hours alive less of a torture.
One of the crabs stretched his arm and it just fell off his body. In my best Chandler impersonation: Oh-my-God. And why did she bring crabs? That's easy: to make soup *cries*.
Victoria laughed (not mocked me) when I told her that story. She knows that, if it was for me, I'd pick up every dog in the street and such. My mom said I turned out too sensitive.
Will they still be killed tomorrow or will you keep them?, she asked. I'd thought of keeping at least one but...crabs are not really pets, are they? I wouldn't know what to feed him. Wet bread hasn't convinced me. That's what Rose fed them and they ate it all, but come on...two days (or more, God knows for how long they'd been tied up for sale) of starving and no water, they'd eat anything.
So I thought, well, ok...take their lives, make crab soup. But I wondered, and asked my friends: how do they kill them, though?
They put them in boiling water.
All the systems in my body stopped and I reconsidered the idea of keeping them.
I mean, can you picture a human being dying in boiling water? Slowly...feet, loud scream of pain, legs, genitals, desperate crying and begging, arms, neck, the last plea, head. And then the macabre pain of drowning in boiling water.
I don't think in terms of animals, you know? Jesus Christ, they're not fucking rocks. They have a nervous system, damn.
In the best representation of Freud's defense mechanism, denial, I said: nah...they wouldn't kill them like that. Yes, my friends said; yes, they do, there's no other way. I asked my mom how she's going to kill them (well, Rose will) and she said: boiling water. And I cried a little (inside).
Yeah, uh-huh, I cried over six crabs. Leave me alone.
My God, I learned so much about crabs today. People capture them, tie them up so tight their limbs fall, starve them, and kill them in boiling water. It's too much for my Greenpeace heart.
Here's another topic: I was seeing the pictures I took in our senior year trip, around october. By then I was an all-around cutter, because of D (and for other factors that are irrelevant right now).
Well, there's this funny picture of boys spanking each other on the bus, on the way back home. But what got me is that D (his back, anyway) appears on it, on a corner of the photograph.
I discovered today (I don't see those pictures anymore because I get nostalgic and hateful) that the girl sitting next to him was the girl he's dating now, M.
And I felt betrayed. I can't explain it properly, but seeing him with her then, at the time I thought he loved me at least a little, and knowing he's really with her now, I can't help feeling betrayed...like somehow he cheated on me. Or even worse, I was just his...hobby. Or his "meanwhile".
That happened with The Guy. He was feeling me up *cough* and right then he tells me: "you know, there's this girl I'm so crazy about...". And no, it wasn't me. I was just his hobby.
- Cel: he (D) betrayed your space, that's what bothers you. I understand how you feel.
- Me: I bet he had a thing for her for a long time, even before we got involved with each other.
- Cel: perhaps. Since a long, long time. How awful.
- Me: I think I wasted a lot of psychic energy, because around that time I still was very hopeful (that he'd come back). He's a stupid whore.
- Cel: don't say that. I think he did have something going on with you...he had fun and all (I'm a hobby, yay), but sometimes one can't just control his own feelings. Maybe he already had a history wanting M.
- Me: I hate it. The same happened to me with The Guy. He was sort of with me but he wanted somebody else.
- Cel: Right now, somebody must be with somebody else, and he doesn't really know it right now, but he wants to be with you.
- Me: you little sucker, you.
- Cel: and you'll be a bitch for the girl who loves the boy who loves you.
- Me: I wouldn't want that...oh, well, tough for her *evil laugh*. *Cough* no, really...I wouldn't want that.
- Cel: I know, I'm just fucking around with you.
- Me: you bitch.
I hate to admit this, but I'm a little, a little in pain about that right now. I won't be able to study tonight (I didn't feel capable, anyway, I'm fed up...although I don't feel ready). Damn.
Cel: my conversations with you are like a bowl of jell-o on sunday.
Isn't she sweet, the dork?
I can't possibly be bothered with love anymore, I want to focus on more relevant things (I just saw footage from a nazi concentration camp and I thought "Jesus, Lord, how can I possibly be so self-centered"?). And if it were possible, it's still bad for my self-esteem. I just kind of wish for D and The Guy to...forget it. It's too dumb. I'm too dumb.
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