Not exactly "another" monday.
Monday, 01/12/04 - 10:30 am.

Now that I think about it, the church's parking lot is where I always have awful encounters with teenagers. Last time I came (two years ago) a boy gave me the finger, and another one almost runs over me. This year was that encounter I mentioned, that crushed my self-esteem.

I was coming to that conclusion only because I was making plans for the day, and I remembered I have to go pick up my niece at 4:40 pm. Which means I have to walk across the church's parking lot. I'm hoping this time there'll be no one around, specially people my age.

I woke up thinking this is my last monday here. I know I said that yesterday, "it's my last sunday". Most likely I'll be saying that until the dreadful weekend, in which I go back home (along with my nephew). I'm not thrilled about that (specially because I'll turn 19 *too* soon after I've arrived). Here I am of some use, and there's always something to do, even if it's housework (this house really needs it). I'd like to stay longer, and see my nephew (the one who lives here) finish his book and play in that festival or whatever it is.

Last night he was talking about that, he needed a name for his violin quartet ("but there's a cello, too"). They were going to perform onstage, dressed up. I could only come up with The Criquets ("QU" as in quartet, I'm, oh, so clever), telling him that they could wear antennas and tuxedos with sneakers. My ideas are not very good, but he always laughs at them (not mocking me, actually enjoying it) and usually gets something out of it. It's nice.

Before I start rambling on how much I'd love to stay and shit, I'm just going to go burn my nephew and niece a Beatles CD, to distract my mind for the whole "boo-hoo, I'm getting back" know something I hate of this place, though? The doorbell. It scares the living hell out of me, and almost makes me have a heart attack, I feel it in my lungs. It sounds like a Frankestein castle doorbell. And that's me being negative today.

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