02.16.05 - 1:56 p.m.

I can't even remember the last time I wrote. I am so very discombobulated getting ready to go back to El Frijol tomorrow morning at 5 am! Argh!

In a nutshell: My Insane Weekend. Dad came to visit. It was actually quite nice. He's such a good man. Quiet and loving and just chill. Very chill. We went out to eat amazing food, saw a great movie: Born in the Brothels about a photo project for kids in India (washing me again with my old desires to make pictures with kids...) babysat for a few hours (the little girl screamed "NO! Not Paleta!" When she saw me and then promptly fell asleep. Let's hope she was just tired and doesn't really hate me. That would break my heart even though I am a boring babysitter sometimes...) and then Sunday was the most rollercoaster day.

I rented a truck to move my furniture to various friends' basements and two people bailed on helping me move. Other people never offered. So Gonzaldo The Not Gay Macho Man was the only one who came through and he really fucking came through. After I cried on the phone telling him that everyone had bailed, he came over with a rose for me for V-Day and then singlehandedly moved me. The most impressive was that he was exhausted and never, ever complained and managed to wedge the couch through a mathematically impossible space. He really came through as a true friend. I realized I have this long list of 'fun' friends who will come party with me at the drop of a hat, but there is a very short list of the friends who are really there when I need them. Some people are just kind of selfish and inflexible, some people just don't care about me the same way I care about them but luckily there are those who try when they can and check up on me and I feel equal love betwen us.

Sigh.

It's a crazy transition time. Leaving my apartment. Leaving my country. Trying to decide if I'm going to grad school or not next year. My brain's in a swirl.

Oh. And Sunday night. Sunday afternoon, Caracas, the sweet Venezuelan guy from the bar called. I got all excited that he called on a Sunday afternoon. Like so very unbootycallish. It looked up. Maybe I made a mistake by suggesting we get together so late that night. We went out for drinks and he was sosososo gentlemanly. Getting out of the car to open the door for me, all sweet about "Oh no! I didn't know you were leaving so soon! We don't have enough time to get to know eachother!" He remembered everything I told him at the bar (I didn't and was repeating myself a lot and that made me feel muy lame.) But it degenerated. He kind of pushed a bit to come over, I relented and once again Le Call Du Booty. He was pretty good, way more manly looking with his clothes off. I was really surprised actually. Nice hairy (trimmed!) chest, incredibly worked out legs.. there was a flash of me feeling like "What am I doing? I don't know him..." but he was very consientious on the condom tip (haha) which is good, because I've been known to dabble in risky behavior. Sleeping was sweet, all curled around eachother. But in the morning he ran. Sigh. He called yesterday but it seemed kind of dutiful. And then I saw him for a weird five seconds yesterday (he works near where I work) but who knows? If I was staying I would have had more time to have more real dates and wouldn't have slept with him so fast and he might have approached the Real Deal. At least a real two month deal or something. Oh well. Timing is always off for me. I'm really sick of one night stands. They are so unfulfilling.

Anyway, I had my last training session and almost cried when I left. I really like my trainer and my body really is different. I'm stronger and toner and it was such a nice thing to look forward to.

Endings again. And beginnings too.
Here I go again!

P Wiggles

Oh yeah, one more thing... last night Beriba and I drank too much and had a lot of fun bemoaning our age and men (as usual) and then just being silly and planning the future at the world's worst Open Mike Night. It was so awful. This one guy was singing such crass music (and I have high tolerance for crass, mind you) that the bar tender gave me limes so I could throw them at the guy. I missed each time even when I was standing two feet away. I sucked, but he sucked worse!

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