I don't understand

I'm listening to The Modern Age, by The Strokes. It's good, but it's fucking old. It's my iTunes trying to tell me I need new music. Now that I'm back in Caracas I should be able to illegally download loads of new music. Unfortunately, I don't know shit about music. I depend on two people (Angela and Gustav) to provide me with good stuff to listen to. I'm lost in a void of what good music was around two years ago or something. Now it's Soma. I mean, I like these songs. I always used to play them in my iPod (which someone stole from my fucking room like two months ago) but these days... it's just been too long since I added a real song to my library. Real meaning not "All the Single Ladies." Stop.

I have no idea what's been going one for the last... months. It's pretty sad. I went to Norway, I came back and my life became the busiest it's ever been. But it's always been so busy it feels I'm just trying to justify once more why I haven't written any(fucking)thing on here in so long. Redeem myself. But no. Like, more things to do just means more academic/professional things to do. And that translates into a more boring social life. Having a more boring social life is the same as to have a boring life, really. I mean, it's not like I tell anyone about "work" or "school." If I do, it's mostly stuff like "you will not believe what fucking Alanna Schepartz said in class today" or "there's this one retard in my math class who can't just..." So yeah, it's all about the social life. And that hasn't really existed lately. Lately meaning the last two months.

I think the European in me is dying. I never had the Latin American, so that doesn't matter. Whenever I speak Spanish outside Caracas is determined to feel odd. I developed some sort of Europeanism during those two years in Norway that I feel like I'm not really... keeping up anymore. Or something. I don't know. I'm losing it. I'm changing it for some weird Niarchos phase. But what happened to Slagsmålsklubben?

(so)(so)Eduardo says: (10:30:29 PM)
jajajajajajaja si vaaaa!! ok vamos a vernooos chamooooooooo!

Gabriel Barcia says: (10:30:46 PM)
ok, si dejas de repetir tus vocales como 800 veces

My left ear hurts. But I got water in my right ear. WTF.

The case of Taylor Vaugh-Lasley

I want to be your friend. I want you to want to be my friend. I think you do. I think we're on the same page. But hey, we need to actually spend time together, which starts wanting to spend time together, to become real friends. We talked after Spring Break and it was great. We shared so much! Then you parted your way, with Simon, Carmen and Charlotte, and other Berkeley people I guess, and I parted my own, very different way. With cooler people, let's be honest. As cool as Carmen, alright. Point is: I want to do this. I want to do this blog, I want to see you this summer in LA, or in NYC. Just please, take me seriously. I will take you seriously too. I promise I'm either getting a Blackberry or an iPhone as I'm back to the States.

The whole thing about my classes

Patrina, Elissa, and Emily: I love you. I sincerely have never admired slash had so much fun slash drooled upon the thought of a mentor like you guys. Orgo lab was the best thanks to you, MATH 115 was an A thanks to you, and... well, Orgo, the class, was a relative success thanks to you too. This semester was weird. I thought I was going to fail math and do great in Orgo. I thought I was going to fail English and do great in Chinese. Turns out I did pretty well in all of them except for Orgo. I don't even know why I'm capitalizing my abbrev for Organic Chemistry. My apologies: orgo. Much better. English was amazing; I never thought I would actually do well in such a hard class. Seems like enjoying the class does pay off. That's nice. Then, Chinese... well. Fuck. I never got the Chinese thing for the summer. I know. Who cares, I'm not a Chinese major, I have a life, aha. But I wanted to go to China and be able to speak the goddamned language. Now I'm a mediocre speaker who waster one year of language education. I'm doing French next year and definitely going to Paris, btw. Fuck China. I'm doing the Maria Elena: "a ti te parece bonito eso?"

Summer plans

This is what I say when people ask me what I'm doing this summer, even though I'm not sure it altogether makes sense: "I'm doing research." I'm not doing research. Do people really do research? Whatever. I'm going to be some PhD student's bitch for 8 weeks. At a somewhat famous doctor's lab in the Medical School at Yale. She has this method to grow arteries in her lab. Sounds cool, yet apparently it isn't that cool because it takes too long to actually produce a useful artery. Other people make them in days, or so I've heard. She claims her arteries are better, though. I obviously don't know shit. But she said she would give me a job after the summer. So I said yes with a big smile and signed the invisible binding contract to Dr. Niklason's lab. It's great. Also, I will work at the YUAG from time to time, because yeah.. I got a job there (which I love.) AND! I'll be going to NYC regularly to spend money in clothes and shoes. That's it. The one weird slash not so awesome thing about my summer is that I will have to share my time with types of people that 1) are not compatible and 2) I like equal amounts. No idea how that's going to work. They'll have to fight to the death, because there's not enough Gabriel for everyone.

The thing down there

I don't know. It started by being the worst pain I've ever experienced. Then it got old. And it's still old. I don't know what happens after issues get old. It's still bothering me. I'm still on meds. I'm not 100% normal and I hate it. And now it also itches. And the initial thing that started this mess is back. Yes. Back and not willing to go apparently. That only means the entire process was worthless. "At least it made us closer." Yeah, I guess it made me realize how lucky I am to be your friend, Lauren, but still. I don't know. I just wanted it to be gone. And it isn't. It's like buying a defective, very expensive artifact. A laptop, or something. With no guarantee. It sucks. Now I'm with no laptop (or worse, a defective one) and no money. It does contribute to making me feel tainted. Not ok. But it's ok. I'm way too Bree Van de Kamp to let anyone or anything get in the way. I can fake happiness. You won't notice. I'll be fine. I'll tell you I'll be fine and you will believe me. I hate morphine and lidocaine, btw. There, I said it.