Well... I got my lasik surgery done.

And it was no walk in soft, blissful meadows, either.

Dijeron que no dolería, que la molestia sería mínima. Mintieron. It hurt! Digo, no fue un dolor agonizante, nada como lo que sufriré cuando decida procrear, pero aún así, I could feel the laser cutting into my eye! and my eyes burnt afterwards. No sé que me hizo pensar que permitir que un rayo laser se acercara a mi ojo (parte que no se regenenera de mi cuerpo, por cierto) sería buena idea. Sólo espero que haya funcionado y que no me tengan que volver a operar de nuevo. Oh, my beautiful baby browns!!! What have I done to you?!!!

Anyhoo... al menos mi familia se comportó lindísima. Mi mamá me llevó y se quedó conmigo. Cuando salí me ayudó a vestirme y a caminar, porque por un segundo me quedé ciega, which was freaking scary, not to mention painful. No obstante, I must have managed to still look smashing, even with swollen, teary eyes, porque cuando me encontraba convalesciente en el carro me preguntó si quería ir a comer a un Vips. Apparently, she had a craving for some tostadas.

I, being the sweet, thoughtful daughter I am, le dije que si quería fuéramos. Sin embargo, algo le ha de haber hecho ver la luz de la razón (I strongly believe it must have been my woeful tone of voice) porque decidió que mejor prepararía las tostadas en casa.

Mis hermanos se portaron muy bien. Sorpendentemente bien. Lucky me.

Odio mi vida

I know I say it often, but it IS true. Sometimes I really do hate the way I live my life and everything about it. Or maybe I need vitamins. Who cares, the thing is, lately everything is been complete and utter HELL. In capitals, too.

En primera, los maestros son unos pinches, malditos, jijos de su chichimeca madre.

Seriously, all I can do lately is homework. Literally. Just as an example, I spent this glorious sunday afternoon in the central library in the UNAM doing homework with my journalism team. We have to do the very typical and equally stupid task of making a newspaper. Funny how most of us DON´T want to be journalists...

I, for once in my life, was actually half an hour early, while my team was houlf an hour late. So I had to wait an hour for the first one to show up. I hate how most of us mexicans have a problem with punctuality, but then, I´ve been known to arrive an hour and a half late, so I really shouldn´t complain.

The meeting was pure hell; I hate having to deal with children who can´t seem to do things by themselves. I hate my team. Period.

But then, my Comunication Proyect Design team is no better. There I actually do have to play mommy for a bunch of clueless idiots who can´t think to save their lives, much less write decently. Come on people, I´m not asking for Nobel-worthy literature, just for simple grammar and sintaxis. It wouldn´t hurt if they knew how spell and use accents, either.

And to think I have to lead them in a tv production class for children, for which we have to be somehow paid. Who is going to pay me to teach kids the basics of tv production? Maybe I should make a fund: Give-money-and-help-a-poor-innocent-child-not-fail-class fund.

Mi vida familiar es un vil y putrefacto asco.

The other day I had a row with my mom; It all started with me telling her she never was open to discussion and concluded with her throwing me a spoon. Charming, I live among mature adults.

As much as I love my brothers, they do tend to drive me insane. Seriously so. Today we went out do dine in a Woolworth (which, for some strange reason, is one of moms fave casual restaurants) and I had a terrible headache. The kids kept on banging their silverware on the table and I asked them to quit it, but they went on until I confiscated the dammned things, and then they whinned and bitched until I gave it back so they could resume banging on the table.

At least the pozole made my pain a bit better. The tamarind water, though, was a disgrace. I dont´t think they understand that Aguas frescas implies they actually use natural fruit to make it, not some Cool-aid crap. How globalization hits us all...

Mis amigas, mis queridas amigas son un AMOR!

A quién trato de engañar... I´m actually feeling tired of my bestest friends. Saris, weird as it is, is not being a bitch, but rather decent and human being. Still, I hardly ever see her, though we skip the ocassional class or stay late (in my case) or get there early (in hers) so that we can chat for a while. I miss her being in the morning classes, but I hear the afternoon classes are much calmer.

Palmera, though, is annoying me. She´s keeping secrets from me! Stupid, worthless secrets too!

I mean, I understand if she decided to not tell me she is gay, or really a guy, or that she stole my boyfriend (who I haven´t had the time to break up with, sad as it is, cuz the guy keeps calling and I keep ignoring him). I mean, that´s either private or does not conduce to a safe, friendly enviroment. But no, she´s keeping football secrets. Sí, como oyeron. Football. Fútbol. Soccer.

Last monday she told me that she would have to leave early because she had to go to the doctor. Then she told Ale that she was going to do something with her sister. Then yesterday she told me that she could not get to the journalism meeting in time, but that she would get there a bit late.

Then I found out that the Pumas played today agianst Toluca (we lost too, 3-1) and I thought that she might have gone there. Then Ángel told me that she had mentioned to him something about getting tickets for the game. She get´s them for free because she is on a scholarship.

So, basically, she lied to me about something totally stupid. And then she didn´t bother to show up because I didn´t "confirm we were meeting". The Estadio Olímpico is a next to the central library. She couldn´t cross ONE dammned avenue, Insurgentes, to just check if we were there doing homework. I´m very, very upset with her, and I plan to tell her something tomorrow.

We´ll see.

I´m off now, must finish homework.

Mientras tanto, no dejen de ver las noticias. Chance y algo pasa y me sacan de mi miseria.