As they pull you out of the oxygen tank, you ask for the latest party.
So I just about had the most frustrating skype experience of my life. My microphone suddenly decided to die on me a while back so I have been using my sister Lorena's computer with her microphone thingy and camera, which works well except for the part where I have to awkwardly kick Lorena out of her own room for about an hour. I had scheduled a skype chat with my mom (hi mom) tonight, but when I went to ask Lorena to use her computer I found her typing diligently on what I could only assume was her thesis and her son, Juan Ignacio, fast asleep on her bed. About thirty minutes prior he had been sobbing furiously in the car (hey, if I was five and was leaving a birthday party and all my cousins, I would be throwing a fit too...in fact I think I did do that a few times) so I thought it would be best not to disturb them. But what about my skype chat? That's okay, I can still IM with my mom and explain the situation, then reschedule (which is word that Lorena and I discovered today doesn't really have an equivalent in Spanish). So I logged in, answered the call, but before I could type anything, the video popped up, blocking practically everything. All I could do was watch and listen helplessly as my family gathered around saying, "Tessa? Tessa? What's wrong, why can't we see you?" It sucked. Hardcore. It was like in the movies where one of the characters is dead or viewing the past or something and tries to communicate or warn or comfort someone, but his or her Virgil says impassively, "it's no use, they can't hear you."
SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK
Needless to say I sent an email, we have a new date for tomorrow, and I am going to head to Megamaxi after classes to buy a new microphone/headset.
Anyway, updates. I was horribly sick this week. Okay I was horribly sick Friday, I was only sickly on Tuesday through Thursday, with a runny nose and ten pack a day voice, but Thursday evening my head felt so stuffed with cotton that I had a really hard time doing my homework, and when I woke up for class on Friday I went, "yeah, that's not happening." Cecilia pretty much shot down any possibility of me leaving the house this weekend, my host-niece's seventh birthday party this afternoon was my first cry of freedom since Friday. It felt good. As a result, I missed riding the teleferico with my friends on Saturday, and I became really familiar with my room.
The view from my window. I have a little windowseat/nook right there, it's pretty much my favorite place in the room.
My itty-bitty desk.
Closet, my little bathroom.
Part of the roof for my bathroom is frosted glass, it leads to the little courtyard area which is also covered with clear plastic. I just thought the pattern was pretty.
I was allowed to leave my room to get some sun in the livingroom which has a glass ceiling.
Cecilia made me a curative of tree tomato, honey, and lemon juice. Also, Cecilia took me to see the doctor on Friday when I was death warmed over. I fell asleep in the waiting room and made my ugliest face to the man with the handlebar mustache who smirked suggestively at me. Was it my own feverish imagination or did he actually twirl his facial hair like some silent movie era villian? I think he did.
The doctor diagnosed me with a cold (shock), prescribed a ton of medication, and now I'm more than a hundred dollars out. But that's okay, I can claim it with my insurance company when I get back to the states. They are usually reasonable, right?
Crap.
SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK
Needless to say I sent an email, we have a new date for tomorrow, and I am going to head to Megamaxi after classes to buy a new microphone/headset.
Anyway, updates. I was horribly sick this week. Okay I was horribly sick Friday, I was only sickly on Tuesday through Thursday, with a runny nose and ten pack a day voice, but Thursday evening my head felt so stuffed with cotton that I had a really hard time doing my homework, and when I woke up for class on Friday I went, "yeah, that's not happening." Cecilia pretty much shot down any possibility of me leaving the house this weekend, my host-niece's seventh birthday party this afternoon was my first cry of freedom since Friday. It felt good. As a result, I missed riding the teleferico with my friends on Saturday, and I became really familiar with my room.
The view from my window. I have a little windowseat/nook right there, it's pretty much my favorite place in the room.
My itty-bitty desk.
Closet, my little bathroom.
Part of the roof for my bathroom is frosted glass, it leads to the little courtyard area which is also covered with clear plastic. I just thought the pattern was pretty.
I was allowed to leave my room to get some sun in the livingroom which has a glass ceiling.
Cecilia made me a curative of tree tomato, honey, and lemon juice. Also, Cecilia took me to see the doctor on Friday when I was death warmed over. I fell asleep in the waiting room and made my ugliest face to the man with the handlebar mustache who smirked suggestively at me. Was it my own feverish imagination or did he actually twirl his facial hair like some silent movie era villian? I think he did.
The doctor diagnosed me with a cold (shock), prescribed a ton of medication, and now I'm more than a hundred dollars out. But that's okay, I can claim it with my insurance company when I get back to the states. They are usually reasonable, right?
Crap.