Wednesday, 03/16/05 - 10:13 pm.
I miss Joseph. I fear that the next time I see him, we'll break up. I didn't see him today, but that I expected it. I couldn't help waiting, though. And looking around every second, "just in case". I hate to think I fucked everything up...and I still don't see a time to fix it. This upcoming week is vacation, and my brother Alan is coming to visit. Vacation, family...you make the sentence.
Please, let's leave this subject before I get (more) anxious and tearful.
I had a nice conversation with Joe, last night, about founding a mafia, but I couldn't sleep because of mosquitoes. I couldn't nap in the morning (I was dying to) because I kept thinking of taking the car today to the university, since my brother was going to come pick me up in the afternoon...I'll spare you the anticipation: I didn't take it. I didn't even dare to ask him (perhaps because I knew he'd hand me the keys inmediately).
I hate to think this is the last week I'll ride with my brother. Then he's moving out of the house and I'm back to the routine of having my dad drop me off and pick me up. I don't want that, and I really need to stop getting paralyzed at the thought of driving in these crazy streets crowded with rude people who drive like drunks (see?!).
Speaking of my brother, I had my class with him tonight. Wow. Just wow. My parents gave birth to an intellectual (psh, to four, actually). I find it hard saying "that's my brother right there", he's unbelievable at teaching and making people be critical. All studends love him (I mean, girls drool for him), they say he's down-to-earth, and friendly. I feel so proud to be his sister, as if that was such an accomplishment I worked so hard for. But still, you wouldn't believe how much...it's almost narcisstic.
There's one thing that's making me happy, and that is to be part of the team who puts up the psychology billboard. I will put it up tomorrow, with this girl Marcela. I went to bed very late last night (this morning), preparing material.
How many freudians does it take to change a lightbulb?
Two. One to change it, and one to hold the penis...I mean, the ladder!
I was reluctant to be part of the team. Out of laziness, mostly. But I'm glad I am. I have lots of ideas, and it's great to know you'll be reaching a lot of people, because people love to turn their heads and check if the psychology billboard has been updated.
I'm also writing some sort of book about my friends and I. It reminds me of 5th grade, when I'd write my Simeon books, and kids would be in line to read them. It's only Victor, Priscilla and Irene who read them, but it's equally rewarding, because they laugh out loud. And the best thing is that this book is memoirs. I look at them and realize how, in general, our experience at the university has been simply hilarious.
Carmen will buy my book tomorrow. I should try to approach to her a little more before class (we take latinamerican literature), at least for old times' sake. Her girlfriend is huge, she's like this unhappy bodyguard, so I'm kind of inhibited to approach. I've heard she's nice, though. So what the hell.
I have a headache, because the fractured bone is hurting...now that is killing me in the university. I've been in pain all day, the seats are just uncomfortable. This guy, H, friend of Joseph and I, came to me this afternoon and I told him about it. I hadn't seen him this semester, he's very nice. He's always saying I'm pretty and such.
I did notice he didn't ask how Joseph and I were doing. He didn't bring Joseph in the conversation. Maybe it had to do with the fact that I was alone, and when he asked who are you waiting for?, I replied, no one.
I miss Joseph. I hate to think I fucked everything up. And I hate to think I won't be able to fix it soon enough [to save the relationship].
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