Sunday, 11.28.2010 - 11:09 am.
I attended a psychiatry congress yesterday. I thought it was next Saturday and I had made plans for this one already. It took a lot of effort from my anal-retentive personality to be flexible and move around my commitments, including seeing one of my patients.
The congress was pretty cool. It was about social addictions, such as shopping, technology and sex. I went with W and his, say, protege/assistant (which is pretty much how I started with him, after being his student; and now, we are colleagues and partners at our own clinic. In your ladder of success, climbing it). It was from 7 am to 4 pm in a nice hotel. I got a frog-shaped chocolate with the label Risperdal on it and other stuff courtesy of the monstrous pharmaceutical industry.
I made it out right on time to go to a park and attend a music festival. I was hoping to replicate the awesome experience of two Saturdays ago, when I went with Virginia and Lorena, and we had a blast listening to jazz/alternative/indie bands. That time it wasn't so crowded, and people sat on the grass under the trees and the sunset and blew bubbles.
This time, I arrived alone. Lorena couldn't make it and Virginia would get there late. As soon as I got out of the car, I was disappointed: the park was full with a bunch of people that didn't exactly give you a sense of tranquility. It was a bad trip: packs of guys drinking beer, smoking weed, eventually smoking glue and crack, spitting constantly. A lot of Bob Marley t-shirts but the reggae culture mixed with metal and ska and punk, and it was just a hybrid of kids that were there just to get drunk and mess around. I felt among a bunch of potential gang rapists.
It was scary, although also rather interesting, and I dealt with being there by seeing it all through social science's eyes: the urban tribes, the behavior of the mass, etc. I had to wait for Virginia, anyway, and I relaxed a bit, though I never let my guard down. There were girls, but you could say there was one girl for every seven guys. I guess what upset me more was being alone and thus feeling vulnerable.
Finally, she showed up. Someone to share my scientific point of view with, laughing out loud at and being in wonder by the specimens gathered there. But things, we assumed, were gonna get ugly as soon as the headlining bands took the stage. Lighthouse's brother had arrived but he didn't recognize me and I took that as a reminder that this isn't my lifestyle, my place. I wanted to stay and listen to his band but the environment was a bit nasty, with all the things being consumed and the general culture of the population that attends ska/reggae gigs. I enjoy the show but I don't belong there.
So Virginia and I ran away and met with Lorena at the caf�-bar I like a lot. It seemed like a safe bet, the same old, same old, but hey, they treat you like family there. When my two friends ordered something to drink, the owner, a very nice tall metal guy with long hair, looked at me and said, jokingly, "and you...a beer". I replied with a prepubescent smile "No..", and then he says with certainty: "one coke".
The place was empty, except for some drunken friends of the owner, sitting at the bar. But even drunk people there are nice and are bound to have, well, yell conversations that make you laugh, if you stop your own to overhear them. My friend Samuel, a musician, was among those people, but he wasn't drunk. He came to say hi and I asked him to join us, and then a friend of Lorena's joined, too.
They always have good ol' rock music playing there. Add that to the great the conversations I was having with these people last night. Time flies and yet time doesn't even exist when you're appreciating the 90's and talking about the best motels.
I had a great, great day, having the best of both worlds: the academia and the fun. Although on the second one I always end up a bit unfulfilled. It may be the sense of not quite belonging to a specific environment and not having my own gang to go to those things with.
And you know what else about yesterday in particular? I kept thinking of Joe. I had this weird "wish you were here" wish about him the whole time. I was hoping I'd see him at the park but I don't think he was there. It was crowded so you could say I missed him but I'm more inclined to think that yesterday's gig was not his thing at all.
It doesn't make sense that I still feel that way. I'm over him, or rather, I'm over the fact that I don't have a chance with him. I've accepted that I'll always like him, just like I'll always be in love with Joseph...there's nothing wrong with that, as long as it doesn't screw my day-to-day life. It stresses me a little sometimes but in general, I live my life nicely.
But I'm saying, why him? What's with the constant fantasy of having a chance with him? Well, because he's the only person I really like at the moment. But I'm going to go for what was said in the congress, regarding the supposed addiction to love (such thing doesn't really exist): biologically, we may be a good match, my genes are attracted to his; but that doesn't make him the most convenient person for me. Look, he's a musician, he's got the female company department covered, and doesn't quite care for commitment. I shall let him be, away from me.
And after telling me that, I remembered that I've promised to complain less. The company I had last night was awesome; a bunch of smart and hilarious people, good music, good food. Perhaps I wanted something else, but I think of this saying, how God (or any other Higher Power, if you don't happen to believe) doesn't give you what you want, but what you need.