Sunday, 10/02/03 - 3:49 pm.
Hi. I'm busy today, and tomorrow it's the horrible experiment-monday. But it's the last one of the semester, so "yay" or something. I'm just taking a break from my laboratory report.
I went to a family get-together yesterday. Kind of. It was my brother's (of course mine, too) and Maria's (my brother's girlfriend). She has two sisters, and they are (with Maria) almost like identical twins. Her mom has a wall covered in pictures, and I cannot tell who is who. They're very pretty, too. It's nice when you have these additions to your inmediate family. I didn't want to go that meeting (celebrating my brother and Maria's graduation, because she got the master degree, too), but it was wonderful. I love her family, they're so kind and nice.
I loved one of Maria's sister's boyfriend. He came from Iran 5 years ago, and learned spanish perfectly. My dad is a writer (last week, a newspaper said his book was a national best-seller *tear*) and they both got along so well. This guy LOVES to read and thinks it's very important. He happened to know my dad because of the book, and he admired him because, he said, not so many people take it upon themselves the duty to rescue their own roots. The guy was definitely an intellectual. It's so dumb that he, being from a foreign country, appreciates what the locals ignore. I loved him, really. I enjoyed the smart conversation between him and my dad (who's also very intellectual, and an eager reader/good writer). I hope he marries Maria's sister so I can listen to intelligent conversations more often.
I'm wondering why there's always this thing of making lists about the 20 richest people in the world, but nobody ever makes a list of the 20 poorest people in the world. Yeah, I have some theories. Make your own.
I sent Paul McCartney a message, saying congratulations on his baby girl. He replied saying he appreciated the gesture, and that he and Heather were thrilled. Ok, not really. I did send him a message, but I doubt he'll ever see it. Eh, he must know his fans are happy for him, anyway.
I am definitely going back to work now. I think I'm getting good at composing laboratory reports, but only out of survival. I don't want to sound superior, but my friends are not very good at drafting nor quoting (THE AUTHOR! ALWAYS MENTION THE LAST NAME OF THE AUTHOR AND THE FUCKIN' YEAR!). I don't know what in the world makes me think I am, but I happen to feel I am, I think it's one the few things I'm good at. I once was told that my ability to articulate a paragraph was remarkably strong (not in this diary, obviously).
Also, I cleaned up Freud's fishbowl this morning, and he said thank you.
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