One week until Houston.
Saturday, 12/16/06 - 9:39 pm.

My parents and little nephew arrived to Houston this afternoon. I'll be home alone for a week, until I jump on a plane myself. By this time next week, I'll be in Houston, too.

I have a lot of things going on through my mind at the moment. First off, I have been very relaxed since I stopped going to university. I got away from the gang (except from Irene, who owes me $30, but I already called her), and I passed all the subjects. Lowest grade is 8.6 -argh!- and highest is 9.9 -ok-. In between, there's a 8.9 and a 9.6. I don't like the 8s, but there's nothing wrong with them, really.

I'm learning french by myself. Je ne suis pas Monseuir Lucidex, etc. It's cool, because this book has a little story and I study one episode per day. I do have a lot of trouble with pronunciation, and memorizing some of the rules of the language. But I'm happy about learning, I've wanted to do this for a while.

Going to Houston worries me. Or rather, leaving everything does. I have this paranoia that the house will be robbed while we're away...but hopefully it won't happen: there's good watchmen, Rose will be here during the day (with her 10-year-old, who takes Frog for a walk), most of the days, and a a relative of my dad, who shall be called Mr. Green, will spend the nights over. And can I add God to this list? I'm not what you'd call very religious, but I strongly believe in Him and I think He's always kept an eye on my family and me.

I also feel bad for leaving my pets. Is it cruel that I worry more about them than about, say, Joseph? My reasoning is that human beings at least understand that you are coming back and when, and in the meantime, you can talk to them, anyway. I can't make Frog and the cats understand that I'll come back, that I'll miss them, nor I can be in touch while I'm away.

They're very attached to me (so am I to them), and it breaks my heart to see Frog scratch the door and tremble when I'm leaving, even if it's just for a couple of hours. Every year when I take out my suitcase, she sits in front of it and stares at me packing, and when I'm going out the door, she sits on a corner and trembles. This is the first time I'm leaving the cats, and I've read they get upset when you leave them, and do stuff to your belongings (the days we kept Merlin from going out to the garage, he pissed in my mom's clothes, when he generally does his thing in the garden). I know they'll be ok, though. I always have these thoughts, "I hope Frog doesn't die while I'm away", and worry a lot, will they get sick or something, but they're in very good hands.

For the time being, it seems I have a very relaxed week ahead. I only have to go to the supermarket, go to the gynechologist (nooooo!!!), pack my bags and see Joseph as much as possible. Maybe I'll throw visiting the hair salon in there, to get my hair straightened. No meetings with anybody, which makes me glad. This little potential row with the gang last week made me remember why I enjoyed being a loner.

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