Thursday, 10/06/05 - 10:22 pm.
I saw the sun this morning. Thus, classes started today. But the campus was half-empty, I guess a lot of people thought we were still on red alert. We are, actually, but it didn't rain today.
Joseph says it's stupid of this university to ask us to go to class while a National Mourning has been declared. I'm not mourning anybody, are you mourning somebody?, I said. While I wasn't thrilled of going back to class, I didn't see why we wouldn't get back to normal, if we can. I realize more than one person suffered the direct consequences of this non-stop rain. I didn't, so I have nothing to complain about.
I told Joseph that if he was so concerned about the calamity, we could be volunteers. Right now, many students are starting to organize, to take food and clothes (take them themselves) to shelters and give them to people. We, as in "my family and I", already donated some clothes, but there's this organization that goes and builds houses in forsaken communities; they're asking for help, too. Not just material help. I talked to a guy I know, that's part of that group, and that's when he told me I could sign up to go to shelters. Later, I overheard a psychology student talking to the guy in charge of the psych lab (he's an artist, he was the singer of the band I consider to be the best nationwide) about volunteering.
But Joseph is not like that. He wouldn't go. He's not very socially-inclined, and most, if not all of his reasoning on the subject is very, very small. However, I plan on at least making him donate something. I'd already given some thought to join the house-building organization, but I feel uncapable and not very thrilled...I probably won't sign up to go to shelters. But I must do something other than being altruistic. Altruism doesn't change anybody's world, solidarity does.
More on that later.
On the banal (but still highly enjoyable) side, I saw Joseph today, after nearly a week. We went for coffee at the coffeehouse -duh-, he had Irish coffee, which had an ounce of whisky, and I had Russian coffee, which had a ball of ice cream. Both were amazing, but his was a gentle blow to my forehead. I believe I'd never tasted whisky before.
It's funny, that feeling of seeing someone and saying, "yes, this is the man I want to spend my life with". The set-up was perfect: the lights were dim, the coffeehouse was empty, and outside it was drizzling.
He has this dilemma of getting a job. He wants one, one that fulfills him. But if I got it, I wouldn't see you through the week...and yes, I know you'd make the sacrifice to sneak out and go to my house over the weekend, but it wouldn't be the same at all. I want to make you proud...hell, I even want to make your family proud. I will someday. We also talked about my dad. Joseph actually has a good memory of my dad, something he said the night I presented my book, when Joseph came late because he was nearly deported to Mexico for not carrying a certain document:
Your dad said, with a nice tone: "you're a little late, aren't you?", and I replied "at least I made it". He smiled and said: "I like that". But he doesn't know I was going to say: "at least I made it...the police stopped me and had me under arrest for a while and they were going to deport me!"
I told Joseph about my dad's strange comment, when he [dad] asked me about him [Joseph] and said that thing about having other priorities besides my career. He was shocked, which is how we started to talk about that good memory. On the other hand, his mom loves me (heh). I talk to her about you all the time, and she adores you. It's not "oh, my son this and that..." anymore, now it's "oh, my son's girlfriend this and that...".
In conclusion: nothing, really. I'm madly in love with him, that's all.