It's 4 days left, but who's counting?
Wednesday, 12/10/03 - 12:21 pm.

The neighbors (father and daughter) were fighting this morning, when I was playing guitar. Then the screaming faded and I heard my cousin laughing on the other side of the wall (my cousin lives in the same block, just behind my house. He used to climb up the wall and talk to my brother, who was in our backyard). Oh, the human emotions.

I'm getting a little excited about leaving (this sunday!), but studying for a final is a big turn-off. And I think I have to go out with my UCA mates...I mean, that's great. I wish I was in Houston already though, just so I'd gone through the packing and the stress and the finals and the goodbyes.

You know what's the worst thing about traveling? The night before you leave. It's horrible, all stressful and emotional. Sucks a lot more if you have to get up at 5 in the morning, because after such heavy night, comes a long, long day of tears, hugs, aboarding, carrying luggage, desperation (I get desperate on the plane after a couple of hours), nice stewardesses, migration officers, paperwork, traveling restrictions, new weather, new language and long car rides from the house in Ant Avenue to the airport (let's leave out the obvious plane part) and to the airport to the house in Tos Lane.

I'm tired just by thinking about it.

And this year's new feature is that I have to deal with a child, my nephew. I think I'm going to tie him up and make him my hand lugagge, so I can carry him on my back and he'll be still. He's got a Game Boy Advance, but no way in hell he will be playing that for 4 hours, I don't care if it's the Ninja Turtles. Jesus, Christ, Lord, I sound like a mom.

I sent out christmas cards for some people, and I'm starting to get "thank you" replies. From Angelica, Norm and Rod, to be specific. You know who I didn't send one to? D. But it's ok, he's forgotten all about me, and I pretty much can say the same about him. I don't feel bad for leaving him out, and he won't tell the difference. I'd have appreciated if he'd let me know he got the card I sent him last year (I knew through Cel, she asked him "incidentaly" and he said he did). In any case, I haven't thought of him at all lately, except for two times: first, when I got all the cards ready to be mailed ("damn, I forgot D's...oh, screw it") and second, right now, because I just remembered the first time.

I don't want to leave, for many reasons. But I also want to leave. I feel a little torn about it, it's the bad thing about having a ripped family all around the globe (that's exaggeration, but you get the point). I kind of hate it. My brother Renan (and wife and kids) in Houston, my brother Alan ( in El Paso starting next year (yes! he got a job at a hospital there!)...well, my sister (and her son) and my brother Carlos (and his girlfriend) and live 10 and 30 minutes away from me, and I see them one or five days a week, so I can't really complain. Jesus, Christ, Lord, what a big family.

Off topic here, two nights ago I heard a voice in my head yelling "Jose", three times. I have control over my own voices, really, but sometimes things like that happen, specially when I'm in bed. Odd, yes.

Aaah, this could be the beggining of a beautiful friendship (not really, I just can't think of another closing sentence for this entry...besides, many stories end like that, and it makes you feel all fuzzy and hopeful).

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