Today my grandparents talked about my mother. I said more than I should have, I think. Since my dad died, I've become more aware of my mom and what she does, and it's not pretty, let's say. I've been very bad about keeping up with her. And the more we talked about it, the more I realized how much I've been very bad about keeping in touch with her.

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I am having tons of fun in Peru! I cant find the apostrophe button on this keyboard, so I have to type stupid. But my time is up for now, I will leave this entry here to edit when I have a chance. I will show some pics too!

6/3/09: Ok, back home with parasites, I think. It sucks. I'm not feeling so hot and I still have to unpack even though I meant to like 2 hours ago. MANGA IS MY KRYPTONITE!

But I managed to get my PS2 modded! I'm always nervous of talking about, let's say, sketchy things, on my blog in case some one stumbles across it and pulls up my personal bizness to slam me. It would suck big time.

So I'll be careful with what I say about Peru. I need to go to my sister's house and use her comp since I only have the memory chip to upload pictures. I wish I took more, but I was hesitant since my mom would yank my arm down during the best photo moments and say "You're asking to get mugged!". Shit's serious down there! We went through a mugger phase in a section of Lima, actually. Nothing serious, I just had to keep hiding my purse and camera at random moments. It became kind of like a game, actually, guessing when to hide my things before my mom told me to. I wasn't too worried, police were everywhere and honestly, I could throw a hoe down.

The language requirements were much more lax this time around for me. I switched alot between Spanish and English in the house and I tried to speak nothing but Spanish on the streets, but sometimes I would say something aloud and only the people who knew English would get it. There were moments my arrogance got the best of me. That's what I love about Peru, though. It really knocks you down a few blocks below what you have. The people are humble and sincere, and their culture is more conservative and serious. I thought, "I could stay here for a long time and shake things up!" but I know, and everyone in my family says so, that nothing I do in Peru could amount to what I can achieve with an American college degree.

I knew this would get around to school eventually.

I had three finals this semester. Chem, bio and math. I wasn't so worried about the first one. Just a 75 minimum and I would walk away with an A. Math and bio, though, were another story. See, I meant to study for math, and I feel like I gave it a fair try. I started studying like three days before and got the economic stuff down. I saw the old exams and saw that the new stuff we were doing wasn't covered as extensively as past topics, so I blew it off.

( I don't even know what I'm saying, but I'm sure it makes sense at the end. )

So someone on my feed posted this link in their status (textsfromlastnight.com), and I've been browsing for a while and found these jewels (or not, if you are more mature than I am):


(512): i just sat at a stop sign for 10 minutes waiting for it to turn green. i need to STOP SMOKING THIS SHIT.


(202): therell be strippers and coke right?
(703): no strippers. just coke.
(202): i hate this fuckin recession

No, not really but I've been backed into my lj corner and won't leave till there's something else to do.

You know, I really hope next week the physical therapists says I'm strong enough and can go running. I just REALLY REALLY REALLY wanted to lose this gut by summer and although it hasn't gotten bigger it's stuck at BIG. I would like a medium sized gut, at least, you know? Something that I can carry around without worrying about it.

So finals week is officially in two weeks. It's my favorite time of the year, personally, since everyone gets crazy and studies. I just have to keep my head up in this one class. I'm even doing extra credit for it, which is kind of big since I really hate doing extra credit but I don't have a choice anymore.

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I have a stomach virus. I had to take my bio exam and went to the bathroom in the middle of taking it to throw up, because I didn't want my professor to think I was flaking out of an exam. Oh, never doing that again, let me tell you.

I have to take a college writing class, and the only thing I would want to do besides taking this class is probably pull my eyes out of their sockets and soak them in lime juice.

Ok, no, that's a little bit too intense. I would just like to take a minute to say that I have to write an essay about myself. Myself and about objects that define me, and the only opposition that I have against this essay is that an essential part of my definition is now dead. I would say that this assignment is going to allow me mourn healthily now instead of contemplating ways of accidentally throwing myself off the Northhampton bridge, but I would also say that is a lie.

So I can't lie anymore, this hurts much more than I thought it would.

I've been ignoring people, ignoring myself, ignoring everything in my life that went well. My nerves are on fire. I'm snapping so much more frequently or pretending to be interested in what everyone else is doing, but I don't give a fuck anymore. I'm tired of caring.

I have an appointment with mental health services here at school. That should do the trick.

I know I said there were a series of philosophy talks this semester I wanted to get around to, but the last one this year is in February.

The 12, entitled Weakness of the Will and the Divided Mind by Chandra Sekhar Sripanda. At 4 pm. In one of the buildings around campus.

I'm going to remind myself periodically because I happened to miss the other ones. SO sorry, Jane.

No, it's really fun to listen to. Most of the lyrics are shit, but it's way too fun.

I went out with the girls this weekend. It was fun. I got a little drunk on Friday night though. I opened a fire extinguisher by accident and then started crying a little bit. Was it about my dad? Yes. But seriously, my friend said "Stop crying and start dancing" and I did. I think I'm too obedient when I'm drunk. Whenever someone tells me to do something, I'll do it.

I had too much fun with the guys, though. We were hanging out in their room the first part of the night, playing flip cup and talking. I found out one of them liked Nirvana so we were singing. I only brought it up, though, since he had the alcohol and let me have as many shots as I wanted when I told him. We were singing Dive and Stuck on a Plain, and then he turned out to be genuinely awesome. I kept on making cracks about the girls. Seriously, sometimes girls are so annoying. I was with the guys, like, "The fuck man, these girls take a shit long time to fucking sneeze" and everyone started laughing and giving me dap. It was great.

Saturday I went to Amherst and hohoho, it was a legit Xmas party. Guys were wearing Christmas sweaters and shit. Guys were fucking hot! But assholes, for the most part. Like, legit assholes. I went with Alex and some other people. Her boyfriend was there and he's cool peoples. We hung out and talked. I left early to get back home since it was snowing. My car's the worst when it comes to snow.

Now it's homework time. I wish my dad could pick me up, though. I always feel like I had a legit excuse with my dad. I honestly relaxed with him. Now nothing I do can really match it.

I have to study for Chinese tonight but before I do I thought I could read some Gundam porn and then study. It's not very good, very bad actually, but I thought I would read it for shits and giggles. I decided to quit my job and focus these last two weeks on school. I'm turning in all my work at the end of the break, so I'll hopefully have time then to do it. It's just a lab report, three chinese homework assignments, and my social psychology report. I might have time today, but I don't want to strain myself. Hahaha.

( This is all about my dad. Too long; don't read. )

I hope my TA will help me with my lab! I know he's a prick but I haven't contacted him in a long long time. I'll send him an email asking for his help. I haven't looked over this lab's questions, not since I got back to school.

I think this year's Thanksgiving isn't going to suck as much as the previous years. It's going to be somewhat decent, but I think I'm planning something with my friends. I haven't heard too many details about it, though.

Well, he still hasn't called me. I spent time with him at the wake, but everyone was around him all the time and I'd have to talk. I was really glad Susan was there, and so was Alex and Lesley. It was Alex's birthday that Tuesday, I felt like shit I couldn't get her anything or see her.

I saw my dad on Friday privately, and I talked to him. I told him it's awkward to talk to him without him grunting or laughing or just saying something, but I told him to not worry about me. I'm used to talking to myself. Then I laughed again, because I didn't want him to think that I had no friends. I corrected myself, I told him I had tons of friends now and that I wasn't as sad as I was when I was in middle school(boy/girlfriend, I had issues. Big ones that required therapy). I just told him I wasn't sleeping too well at night because I missed him (I started crying) but that I was going to keep on going to school, but that I hate the classes I have to take next year (I stopped crying) and that I'd tell him how it went. I was talking to him about my classes, how they're fascinating and I'm learning lots of things. I wanted to explain it to him but the funeral worker came in and I had to tell him I'd see him later, that I couldn't stay with him. My mom came in and did her thing privately too (haha, she kissed him on the lips and then kissed her boyfriend! beso de morticia, she said.)

I don't know what she said.

And then the weekend came and I didn't get any ashes on Monday. I think I just got gypped by my aunt and I want to go to her and say "Pretty sneaky, bitch!" but I don't think she'd get it.

Everywhere he was, at the hospital and the funeral home, my aunt forgot to mention he had a daughter. I had to correct the hospital because his mother was listed as next of kin, and at the funeral home I had to sign the cremation papers (I shouldn't have signed it. I shouldn't have let Gladys tell me it was the best way to do things. She won't let me have the ashes. Not even a handful. I think it's all going to Colombia.)

He hated Colombia! He'd tell me that coming to the US was the best thing he ever did. That he never wanted to go back. There was no future there, he told me.

If I could see my aunt, I'd slap her. I'd hurt her like what she's doing to me. Telling me that having his ashes in a sacred place is the best thing to do. HE'S NOT A FUCKING OBJECT OF RELIGION, HE'S MY FATHER. HE'S MY PAPA. WE SPENT EVERY SUNDAY FROM WHEN I WAS FUCKING 11 TOGETHER. EVERY. SUNDAY.

I'm cycling between not wanting his ashes, letting her what she will. And then I want to go over to her house and point a sharp knife at my throat and tell her that if she doesn't give me those damn ashes, that I'll kill myself and make her look responsible. Maybe cut her up to.

And that fucking lady that calls herself my grandmother hates me. She seriously does. My cousin said she threatened to kill me and my mom when my dad died! What!! If my dad heard her, he would have hit her. He told me, before he died, that he wanted to move out because she asked him to stop smoking and that he had it. He couldn't take it anymore, and he almost hit her (Something wicked inside me wishes he did).

And she has his wallet and all his important documents. I'm at a loss. Every time I think about it I want to hurt them. Because that lady ripped my family apart. Because she would make herself sick and the only one with enough income to support her was my dad, but only if he was by himself so he made himself single again.

But he didn't forget his daughter. We spent every Sunday together. I thought I was the coolest girl when I got to ride with him in his truck.

He made me feel pretty. He made me feel smart. Independent.

Sundays are daddy days.

I don't know what to do.

So some people know. When I wrote that last entry, I was planning to go home. My father was very really sick. I knew he had heart conditions (I only found out about a brain tumor when he died. I thought he was just 'bleeding in the brain'.) And I knew he was taking medications for many things. I knew he worked insane hours. But he died this Monday.

I called him Monday morning at 10. He didn't pick up, and I assumed it was just him sleeping through it. It happens sometimes. I got a phone call at 10:32 from my cousin, and I had assumed it was my aunt. I thought it was her calling me to tell me my dad was in the hospital, and I was going to tell her that I was heading over on Monday after class. But it was my cousin. And she told me my dad had passed away that morning.

It. Felt. So. Bad.

I can't even remember what it felt like. It was just so much about losing him, and then not really. I remember he fell into a coma on my 15th birthday, but he woke up, right? Right. I called my mom and told her, she said she would pick me up. She picked me up, she told me my dad died, whatever. Whatever, right? Whatever.

My mom, sis and her boyfriend drive me over to the hospital, I tell them I need to see my dad. I wait, I get taken to the morgue with my mom and cousin. I see him. He's...just laying there, I guess. I ask how he died, and they're like autopsy pending. Ok. Ok.

We had his wake (argh, the stupid shit with my aunt and grandmother can fucking wait. Fuck.) and everything, he's going to be cremated today.

This is going to sound crazy, I know. Everyone in my family thinks I'm crazy. I feel like...I'm going to get a call. He's going to say "I got them. Meet me outside your house." And I'll have to say "Ok. Let's get away." And he'll take me out, you know. We'll go to Dunkin and we'll get a small iced coffee (me) and a small coffee, black with equal (it was what he drank before he died, when I saw him the week before. He usually drank a large coffee with cream and sugar, then after a heart attack I told him he shouldn't have caffeine, so he got decaf. He hated the taste, though, so I asked him to get a small coffee. Then I was thinking that he was taking too much cream and sugar in a large, and I asked him to get something else. So he started taking milk and splenda. Then for a while, during the summer, he'd have a large iced coffee with cream and sugar, then I gave him a look and occasionally took it with milk and splenda. Then he started asking for a Turbo, which is just a coffee with espresso shots. He'd do it on his work days, and then he would do it occasionally before I again asked him to stop drinking so much caffeine, it was bad for his heart, and what about the bleeding in the brain? I had no basis for asking him to drink decaf, I just thought it would be better. But about his brain, under control, he told me. He stopped with the Turbos, but he'd start getting a medium coffee, regular but not too often so I stopped asking him. After all my nagging, he ended his life with a small coffee, black with splenda/equal.)

Then he'll ask to see a movie (I'm sure he would have wanted to see Madagascar. He hated scary movies, and since he was my dad I felt awkward seeing R rated movies with him. Luckily I like animated shit and I had an excuse to see those crappy family movies I secretly wanted to see with him.) Or if there was nothing, we would have gone window shopping. Sometimes he'd ask to go to New Hampshire for cigarettes (I'd scold him, "Stop smoking! What if you get lung cancer?" and he assure me he wouldn't get it, that he was preparing to see me graduate from college. I asked him to show up nicely dressed, and he told me he'd get a tux. I didn't want him to go that far. I told him it would be embarrassing, and that it would suffice if he got a suit. "A suit, Jessenia?" "Yeah, they sell them cheap at Marshalls. I get a discount, too. We'll get one." )

I'm going home tomorrow after my last class because my dad is breaking down on me. He's living out of a car, not even his own. He's not going to work, and he's paranoid as hell. He is so certain that everyone wants to kill him. He constantly tells me that he loves me and that I'm the only one he ever thinks about. He's excited that I'm going to see him, he wants me to go to work with him and he wants me to go with him to cancel his car and to do almost everything with him. In short, he stopped taking his lithium a really long time ago for shit to escalate to this level.

And deep down, it's my fault. Really. Really really. I haven't seen him in a long time, I used to go home every other weekend, but now that I don't do that anymore, I think he just got kinda sick of being alone every Sunday. Got sick and tired of working every day with nothing to do at the end of the week. And I could have never asked him to come up every Sunday. I could not have gone home every Sunday. But, I should have, you know. I should have been there more than I wasn't.

I haven't started NaNo, I don't think I will until later. I'm going to start studying for Chinese while watching the election, then I might go to the student union to the election jamboree they're having. It's very exciting. I felt very stupid in my physics lab today, but not physics-ly stupid, just very ignorant of the world in general.

All in all, I think my favorite phrase this week is tsuntsuntsun. Because it was used to describe Tieria, and it was used perfectly.

Ugh, it's so hard to keep up in Chinese. I know that I have vocab quizzes every day but I get really distracted and never spend enough time studying. It's horrible.

Tonight, though, I'm going out with some of the girls and, in Dave Chapelle's words, "We're going to get FUCKED UP!" Hahaha, maybe not really for me. I'm planning on going home tomorrow morningish, or first thing when I wake up, after a shower and breakfast. I'm excited. I'm only going home to pick up my winter things, but I'll get to see my mommy and daddy! <3

Nanowrimo is tomorrow! I'm going to try and write a novel this time, but we'll see how it goes. Last year I made it to 9,000 words before getting exhausted. It was intense!

I just have math and social psych to go to, then I'm headed to the plant place to repot my aloe vera, then marshalls for some earrings and finally to the salon to get my hair did. This guy we shall name G is coming up tonight, and we hung out last time he came up and he was so cool. I got a lot of shit from the girls about me being all over him, but he's so awesome! A sweetheart, and he can bench 300. I remember I called him out on it, then I flexed my arm and said "Yeah, I curl 20" and he was all like "Nice!". Hahaha, fun times!

(Ok, I can't curl 20. I can only do like, 5 reps before dying. 15 is my comfort level.)

We're going as mafia girls, we got our hats, pants, jackets and cigars, aka black and milds. Some girls got real cigars, though. I can't imagine them smoking them. It's going to stink! Honestly, if tonight isn't fun I'm never going out with the girls out. Honestly, how do you fuck up Halloween?

It's been a while. Since I've read a novel. Short stories, fanfiction, yes. I've started some novels and never finished them. Reading has felt like a chore for such a long time. But this is like having your heart broken in 18 places and swearing off love forever, and then finding someone who might actually be worth a damn. And falling in love. And staying in love forever.

That is how the Kite Runner has made me feel. I will forever ever ever love this book for reteaching me the value of the written word. My eyes hurt whenever I blink, they're puffy as hell and red too, and I feel a slight headache coming on. But everything, EVERYTHING, in that damn book has made me feel like a completely different person. I went ahead thinking that book would be shit. I thought I was only reading it out of courtesy for my friend who bought it for my birthday.

Complete opposite. I fucking love this feeling, and I hate hate hate that I lost it.

I was getting food at the DC (short for dining center, yo)and I ran into my friend, Julio. Cool. So we head to this empty table but before we get there this guy apparently falls out of the sky because he gets there before us, snatching our table out from under us. Crestfallen, we decide to take refuge at a long rectangular table. Julio takes the first seat, and seeing as how it's uncomfortable to talk to someone at your side, I take the seat right across from. So in traveling from one side of the table to the other, I see him.

Oh yeah.

( This is way too long and embarrassing. )

Till I can get my satisfaction.

Satisfaction.

I worked my weekend away. And I have to take my math exam a day earlier than everyone. Work didn't give me Wednesday off, and I didn't give a two weeks notice, I gave like a week's notice. I just kept on forgetting to ask for the day off, honestly. And I forgot that it was a night exam. OH I HATE YOU NIGHT EXAMS.

So I'm hoping my professor lets me in on the make up exam, or I am seriously fucked.

Work was boring, nothing to add there. I'm starting to hate the place.

I was supposed to go to Boston but it obviously didn't happen. I hung out with Evan though; we watched Iron Man and I Am Legend. First one was good, the latter wasn't as good as I thought it would be. Maybe the book would be better. Don't know.

The only upside to today is that I received comments on my fic for this kink meme, and it came out positive! Yes! I loved that piece, though. It was just....oh dear, I'm not going to talk about it.

I really miss hanging out with my friends. Sure, work can be fun and it's money, but between not having a weekend and only having one day to study for math and chinese, it's starting to get on my nerves. I like to say that I don't let shit get on my nerves, but work is starting to test me.

I just feel bad that one girl's brother is in the ICU. She's really nice; she let me borrow this book by Janet Evanovich. I really liked it, and it's one of those paperback series novels that I thought I wouldn't like. It was a light read, pretty quick and dirty, and I just hope that she can come in so I can give it to her, but above everything I sincerely hope her brother is ok.

I saw her today. I don't know, I wanted to say she looked thinner than usual. I'm worried she's not eating well. But I hope she's ok. Gotta keep in contact with her!

( This is Gundam related. Oh, I'm such a weaboo. )

I don't know if my check deposits made it through, since I can't find my damn checks and deposit slips and I can't remember if I made it to the bank this week. Did I, did I not? I don't know. What sucks is that I signed the checks, and my deposit slips have my account number on them. Fuck.

I might also go to dinner with Lesley and Alex tomorrow. How's the flist, though? Having an awesome week? Awful week? Can we have a movie night sometime soon?

I could survive for 28 seconds chained to a bunk bed with a velociraptor

Also.

Liz, have you read that story I gave you yet (that Harry/Draco story you gave me the link to was cute.)? You too, Jane! I have more if you liked it!

Ugh, Gundam 00 in 3 hours. AND I THINK MY ROOMMATE WILL COME IN AT 3:59 AND DEMAND THAT SHE NEEDS TO SLEEP. DRUNK. AND NASTY. AND MEAN.

I told Shahla I'd meet her for brunch at Buck at 11 am tomorrow. But I forgot about Gundam. Fuck. So I might have to skip brunch.

Haha, no, j/k. Getting a hold of Shahla is harder than mixing oil and water. IMPOSSIBLE. I know, I'm clever. So I might have to catch Gundam later, when it's not airing in Japan. Oh Shahla, the things I do for you. But really, I'm glad I'm finally getting to meet her. She's like, one of the handful of people that I haven't seen yet that I really wanted to see.