And I lay there with him crying, asking myself over and over "Why couldn't they ALL have been like this?"

I can't remember the last time I prayed so fervently "PLEASE GOD never let this change."

Something is seriously going wrong. There is no reason even Paris Hilton should be this instantly popular anywhere and here I am, a gringa tired to the point of unintelligible catatonia half the time, and I’m an overnight superstar. Literally. Something absolutely horrendous is going to occur swiftly ( Read more... )

I was planning on coming home, working on my "Que es un partido politico?" essay, getting my Anthro reading done and maybe doing some advance stuff for Bio, and crashing early since I'm hella tired and have to wake up at a ridiculous hour tomorrow to get to class by 7 ( Read more... )

StrawberiKiwi75:just so you know ( Read more... )

I'm trying to keep Estefania's napkin analogy playing in my head.

We're So Far Away ( Read more... )

Friday night=delicious spanish dinner with Tjark, the maid, and her son, obscene amounts of alcohol, dancing with the hottest man in the club, who also happens to be my gay roomate, getting hit on by someone named Zanahoria, and then knee injuries in Alejandro's car. Saturday=McDonald's drive-by frenchfry ordering/pee stop, Party Chez Santy, ( Read more... )

Today started out sucky as fuck, got mildly better, and then got just fucking awkward ( Read more... )

Except for like, yeah, important things I suppose, like sitting in my kitchen drinking juice and swapping tales with Estefania. Good to see the emails from my boyfriend at the time calling me a bitch. That rocked ( Read more... )

"Oh I'm here with Estefania in my kitchen"

A silence has never ever said "Oh fuck I am so so screwed" as clearly as his did.

I'm still hurt. But that happened a month and a half ago without me even knowing it.