Leaving for a few days

Whenever I make the trip out ot West Texas, either to Lamesa, Midland or Lubbock, I always look up at just the right (wrong?) time to notice a sign directing the driver to Big Spring. Big Spring isn’t in the way; I don’t even think that we’ve passed through it in years. The thing that stands out in my mind about it is Southlake girl.

In debate, for my senior year, i found myself taking the mantle of Brittany’s spot on the team as “Team Slut”. I had a habit of talking to girls (omg, I’m such a fucking weirdo) and trying to get to know them, become friends, get their numbers. With Southlake girl, I did all of that and also ended up making out with her. Not bad after knowing someone all of three hours. I’m a pimp.

Southlake girl was from Big Spring. She gave me her address, two phone numbers, an her email. I, being the terrible horny bastard that I am/was at the time, emailed her three weeks later with a bullshit excuse about losing the book she wrote all of this in. She saw through it, emailed me back a one line letter, and I didn’t here from her again till the state tournament.

I was leaving the auditorium after the awards ceremony, alone. I forget why I wasn’t with the rest of the team at the time; on reflection, it almost seems like this encounter was fated.
“Hi Marcos.”
My heart stops. I know that voice. I knew she would be here, and I knew that I forgot her name. I forget how the rest of the conversation went, but it was short and obviously angry on her part.

Could anything have come from the relationship- five hour distance? Probably not. But I didn’t even attempt to maintain a friendship. In the end it’s just another bad reason to go to West Texas, because I remember her and I remember how shitty I was to her. Shitty things come from West Texas. Bad actions, bad relationships, just, well, bad.


Their are only two reasons that my family makes the six to seven hour trip to West Texas: either to bury or marry someone. This time was different. It may have very well have been to say goodbye, but we can’t be sure. My 2nd cousin Vanessa was feeling a weird feeling in her stomach and back, and went to the ER to have it checked out. The doctor in her own town, Lamesa, kept saying it was nothing. So they went to Texas Tech Medical Center. Her family doesn’t have insurance; they can’t afford it.

Without insurance, hospitals usually don’t give a shit about you unless you’re in really bad shape.

Saying she's in bad shape would be an understatement. She has a private room and the doctors are going to meet on Tuesday to figure out what to do with her condition- since it’s extremely rare to find a healthy, physically fit 21 year old woman with stage III gastric cancer. It’s in her stomach, espohagus, back, lymph nodes, and may have already spread to the bloostream and bones.

I’ve never known Vanessa very well- her mom an my mom are cousins and have always been close. Vanessa has always been a sweet girl, as my mother put it, “We probably wouldn't be here if it was [her sister] Perla”. I’m just shocked by the whole situation. Apparently there was some mutation on some chromosome an it’s one of those one and a billion type things and no one knows what the hell is going on because the doctors that are there won’t say anything until the specailsts come back on tuesday.

My mom’s cousin Pepe did manage to look over one of the doctor’s shoulders and read part of the file. His face went white and he told Vanessa’s mom- “There are always miracles...”

When I'm twenty one, I plan on graduating, planning my post college plans, where I'm going to grad school and where I'm going to live. Not in a hospital bed, realizing that my life is over, only able to move when doped up on morphine because otherwise the pain of the tumors is incapacitating.

I really just don't know what to feel. I don't want to collapse into some "life is fragile" bullshit, because I think that a person controls their own destiny most of the time. This is one of the weird situations where "most of the time" doesn't really apply. A few days ago, she was just a girl finishing up her second year in college, now she probably won't make it till the end of the year.

Just...damn. Like I said, nothing good is in West Texas.

emergency

A family emergency has occurred- I'll be in Lubbock for a few days. I'll update when i get the chance.

eyes are heavy...

Knees weak...no, this is not a rap song, it's my nightly post, as to show my commitment to this new journal that I am about to premier to the world in a few days. Or as was sneak previewed to Deirdre...er, well, who I told that I was abandoning dear old livejournal.

However, I would like to begin this entry with a rant that I have been developing in the back of my mind for the past couple of weeks: Cowboy boots.

I found myself walking out of Osco one fine afternoon in sunny Chicago, finding myself on the corner of Devon and Granville, waiting for the walk signal to appear. I was not like the rich hindu lady with food stamps; already a leech to society, she proceeded to exit the store and blatantly jaywalk across devon, because apparently walking the twenty or so feet to the crosswalk was far to difficult for her and her small child to endure. For her, it was obviously much easier to endanger her life and her child's life (Not to mention the ill gotten groceries!) in an attempt to shed off a whopping three minutes of her walk. Then again, perhaps it was necessary to do all this- she had been shopping in an interesting way, by picking up a good, bringing it to the counter and putting it aside, and repeating until she finished getting everything. I, being quiet and respectful, turned up the volume on my iPod in order to focus on something else, and had my face arrange itself as to show no expression.

I bought my packaging tape and had walked down the street, full of anger at the Lazy People of Society, when my anger quickly found a new target. I saw, opposite of myself, a young girl of about 12-14 wearing what was already a bad dress with COWBOY BOOTS. Cowboy boots. In Chicago. Not downstate Illinois, where one might expect to find such nonsense, but here in the most urban environment one could think of- Cowboy boots while standing in front of a gay coffee shop which also happens to be across from a mosque. Now, perhaps you could argue that Cowboy boots here contribute to the whole diversity aspect to the urban experience. After all, around 80 or so languages are spoken in my area of Chicago. However, I would say this is wrong. This girl was not a:
-Cowboy
-Texas Oil millionaire
-Texas Cattle Baron
And as everyone knows, those are the only people who can really pull off cowboy boots. Suddenly, I felt, "My god, I should write about this- sure, people will see it as filler, but hell, it's a somewhat interesting story that's moderately well written!"

Anyway, come back tomorrow for more useless stories with no real ending!

I must be getting a little tired...

As I attempted to sign in, I found myself using my normal livejournal username and password combination.

Apparently, I created a blog that predates the livejournal by about three months. Insane.

I can't sleep. I ran two miles this evening- easily, without the heaving and disorientation of Monday night's 1 3/4 mile run. I'm getting back to where I was, woot?

I'm not getting used to the weather down here. It's too...sticky. Heat I can deal with. Heat's not a problem. But whenever I go outside, it's like I'm walking through liquid saran wrap, and that's not exactly a pleasant feeling.

All I've done the past couple of days is spend money at Starbucks and run errands for my mother, because I'm a bum who has no desire to work, read, or do anything productive. I still have yet to register at Richland or truly attempt to make this summer "The Summer My Youth Goes To Die" as I have proclaimed on several occasions. My sleeplessness led to a half hearted attempt to clean my room. I was going to organize it, but...I'm a bum.

SUMMER RESOLUTIONS
-Read at least 1 book a week, but try for three
-Limit personal spending to twenty dollars a week
-Get people to come pick me up, and just use most of personal money to pay people's gas
-Get an unsteady job in order to work infrequently and on my own terms to make up for lack of funds
-Party like my youth is going to die at the end of the summer (interpret that one as you will)

Tessa brought up how she's run into so many people since she's been up here, and I'm glad that I haven't had that experience. I suppose we might have different ideas of "running into people" might mean, because i get the unpleasant feeling in the stomach where i feel the need to nod, say hello and make small talk with some person who I don't know, don't care to know and really have no care for what they've been up too. But the upside is that I have seen people I've wanted to see and haven't run into anyone I don't want to see. I've hung out with Chris and Grant several times, and I've seen Kate, Tessa, Erin, Derrick, and Eryn. And it has been good.

For whatever the last week and a half is worth, I give this summer the score that Jana gave me...a 7, but I'd rather be somewhere else...

Getting this started

It's late, I'm tired, but yet I have a feeling that I need to do...something.

Not sure what, exactly, but this is as good as anything. I've been meaning to retire the Livejournal for awhile now...it's going on four years, and with everyone moving over to that shithole website Xanga, I might as well take a step up and cast away the friends list entirely.

Now you'll have to bookmark me instead of just being lazy and checking the friends list. Why am I moving over here?

1. I'm bored with livejournal. It's had a good run, but I need something new. It's a connection to many people that I'd rather pass on having connections with.

2. As narcissistic as it sounds, this forces people to actually think, "Hey, I should go read Marcos' blog (dear god I hate that word) now." I skim over most of the entries on the friends list, only actually reading the ones that look interesting from the first sentence. I imagine many people are the same with the postings from me.

3. Like I said at first, this is my anti-xanga. Here I am, using pretty much the most detached website you can use to have one of these things. No friends list, no complex profile page, and the ability to modify all you want.

4. I also want to be able to do more without having to offend anyone. I always hate to post something political on my livejournal because I think I might offend someone's political sensibilities, however wrong they might be (yay more narcissism). Here, if you don't want to read what I have to say, then you don't. Forget all about Marcos if you like!

Anyway. That's the late night statement of purpose. Let's get this thing off the ground and then announce the transition at the end of the week.