Friday, 08/21/09 - 7:24 pm.
Yesterday afternoon...wow, it'd been so long since I was out in the sun in the afternoon on a weekday. Since february, my afternoons are spent in Reception. I don't die about it but, like I've said before, I'm probably not cut out for a 8 to 5 job, to be all day inside a building.
Anyway. I was out because I was going to meet up with the guys I write a blog with. It's eight of us, six of us showed up. Aside from Victor, who was my instructor at the university, I'd met the rest through their blogs. Before yesterday, I'd already personally met four of the five souls that showed up.
You know what rocks? When you finally find out what planet you're from, because you meet beings that come from the same place. We get along so well and we crack ourselves up. No wonder we got together. The waiter, who'd be around and come now and then, was trying not to laugh at the things we were saying. But the thing about us is not what we say but how we say it. And we love each other for the way we see and express the world(s) we live in. So, yay. Or, as we say in the group, whoohoo.
After our awesome chat, I hopped on Victor's car. He'd picked me up at work at 2, too, he's such a sweetheart, always offering me rides. Anyway, he and I drove Ana -a friend, also from the group- to her sister's house and we stayed there for a while. On our way back, just Victor and I, he let out this phrase, with a huge sight: "FUCK, she's a beautiful woman". Because he has a major crush on her. Oh, I understand those "fuck" sighs all too well. I just said one myself, but let's not get ahead.
On fridays I get off from work at 4, and not at 5 (however, I also start at 7, not at 8), so today I asked Carolyn, the peace fellow, to go for coffee with me at a coffeehouse that's two blocks away from work. It's perfect because it's on her and on my way home. As you may know, I live within a 10-minute-by-foot distance from work. In her case, it's like 20 minutes...and at rush hour, you still go faster than the cars next to you on the street. So anyway, after talking for about an hour and an awesome capuccino, we walked together until we had to part ways. Damn, I love walking during sunset, and I'd never walked home with someone. So cool.
I suck, because she's leaving next friday, after a three-month fellowship at the office, and we never went out. We did go to a concert, but she left early; and you can't really have a conversation at a concert, can you? She's pretty neat. I shall try to go out with her at least once more before she leaves. Also, she could've been my walking buddy after work, but she'd stay past 5. And usually, by 5 I've had enough and want to leave. At least I should make her a little package for her to bring back to the States.
So I come home. And I get a call from Lighthouse. I get, of course, all...what would the word be? Because I get happy, but I know I have to refrain myself so I don't feel happy during my conversation with him. Just play it cool, like, hey, man. Only afterwards do I break down into giggly schoolgirl mode.
With this guy, nothing ever turns out as planned. That makes me feel spontaneous but also stresses me endlessly. Because obviously I always plan nice things. I was thinking that maybe he'd call me tonight, because his brother's band is playing. He'd called me last month to ask me to tag along (when I ate a piece of paper, you may recall). But this time around I thought, nah, he won't. Because we saw the band last week, for free, and because we may go out tomorrow night, to see Joe's band.
He did get the text message I sent him on wednesday. First thing he says when we start talking is that he's sorry for not replying to my it but he can't send text messages from his phone (right then I remembered...he had told me so before, duh!). But yeah, he's up to it and stuff and as far as he knows, he can make it tomorrow. I'll still call him to confirm of course, but I thought it was cute that he called me. Cute being an understatement. And it was also completely unexpected.
Now, THIS is where my "fuck" sigh comes to life. After hanging up, I took a deep breath, said "fuuuuuuck" and put my hand on my heart like I'd been wounded and hunched dramatically because it did hurt. Strange. There seems to be a communication problem between my emotions and my reasoning, because my reasoning can't quite understand or justify what the hell I'm feeling and why. Because if you ask my reasoning, I see him as a friend. I do, I swear I do. My emotions seem to have gone independent from me.
It still hurts, my heart. It's a funny feeling...the feeling you get when you hit your smallest toe with the leg of a chair? It hurts but it makes you giggle too.
So, tomorrow: I'll stop by Subway to buy a subway, because I'm seeing my three patients at the clinic tomorrow (emergency maneouvers), starting at 10, and I'll spend lunchtime there. When I come home at 3, I'm having coffee with my high school friend Rod. And at night, I'll go see Joe play jazz, hopefully with Lighthouse. Notice the hopefully, I'm leaving room for dissapointment. You never know with this guy! He drives me nuts. In assorted ways.
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