The bad and the REALLY good of this day of all sorts.
Saturday, 06/03/06 - 11:55 pm.

Damn, I'm starting late this month. News since I last updated: I took up on my shoulders a new project to earn a few external social service "hours", by transcribing interviews. It's harder than I thought, and I already have a deadline to meet, to prove I'm good: this monday. I'm freaking out, because it's long...interesting, though, it's an interview to former gang members.

Also...well, I was kind of like Irene's caretaker, carrying her pillow and giving her rides, you know, because of her foot. She didn't go to class, yesterday, because she was completely frustrated by how difficult it is for her to move around.

Today has been a day of all sorts. It started sunny, and I yelled at my dad because I feel pressured when he gets nervous about me taking the car out of the garage. I went to support Mr. Basket with the midterm of the subject I'm an instructor for, Social Psychology I. He left me there and he went off to fulfill other duties.

It started to rain. And it rained a lot. I was supposed to meet with Joseph for lunch, so after everybody turned in their exam, I called home and said I was going for lunch with friends. Why, I apologized to my dad, of course. He, of course, said there was nothing to apologize for, and was being his usual nice self.

It took me an hour to get from campus to Joseph's house, when usually it would take me 20 minutes. It seems that, when it rains, everybody who has a car feels like driving it, and the traffic jam was unbelievable. The worst part was being sexually harrassed, twice (it seems sexual harrassment is thought to be only in the ofice enviroment; fuck it, I got whistled and yelled at from two people driving doesn't mean I'm a babe or anything, it's just something not uncommon in any way here; a woman alone in public -I read somewhere- it's like public property).

Well, I came across three traffic jams, and by the last red light I was nearly in tears, wishing to bang my head againts a wall. Finally, I got to Joseph's. He opened the door, and his first words were, pointing his index finger at me: "you look tired". I was numb, and I could only say "I don't want to talk about it".

I collapsed on his bed, and he encouraged me to tell him what was wrong. I mentioned the traffic jam, and the stupid guys who told me things, and I started to cry. He said I could cry, and just held me in his arms. I was angry, and I was feeling impotent, with a violated personal space.

Joseph never fails to cheer me up, though. We were going to watch a movie and have lunch, but we only had lunch. The rest is just cuddling-and-talking time, with an, wait. He kinda sorta made orgasm, even though I'm still on the red spot of the month and I reject all kinds of intercourse-related contact during that time. I mean, there wasn't such contact. He's good. GOOD, I tell you.

For a while, we got emotional, because I have a lot of trouble thinking of the times we were breaking up without feeling the way I felt then. We talked about when he kissed his ex-girlfriend, and when he hooked up with the fake red-haired girl, days after he broke up with me. I didn't want to use that word, but I think I harbor resentment, because he was trying to hurt me...he hurt me because he wanted me back. Go figure. I wanted you to feel that you'd lost me. Well, duh.

We've worked that out, pretty much, or else we wouldn't be where we are right now, two years and growing stronger as a couple. But I do have that problem, of not being able to unnattach thought and emotion of those events. So when I think of what a bastard he was (and he admits it), I feel very bitter.

But I don't right now! And I should get back to my transcriptions. Just FYI, I love, love, love, love, LOVE mister Joseph, and I miss him so bad, and I want to spend the rest of my life with him (AND I DON'T CARE HOW CORNY THAT SOUNDS!).

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