Friday, March 12, 2004

Thank The Live-Journalers For This One:

Instructions: Use Google to do an image search of your name.

The first one that comes up will reveal the inner you.

The second image will reveal the way you project yourself.

The third image will reveal a hurricane.

Try it! It worked for me:

The Inner Me



So the "inner me" is a giant beach robot.

Sweet.

The second picture that reveals how I try to project myself is a picture of a hurricane.

The third picture is also a picture of hurricane.

The internet never lies...

I would write more but I'm worn out from talking to a certain pant-less blogger who shall remain nameless.

I guess I could write a little more.

Luis is in the hospital right now. He went in this afternoon for surgery and it didn't go as well as it could have. He's going to stay the night and then he should be back home by tomorrow.

As soon as I got home from work I went down to the hospital to take him his pillow and also a jacket and food for my mom. Just getting there was an adventure in itself. It seems that tonight all the freeways have been either closed or re-routed out of pure spite.

Luis looked a little worn out but otherwise fine. He was glad to have his pillow. I hung out there for a while, watched The Simpsons with him, and then left. My mom is staying there overnight with him right now.

Just like old times.

When Luis was born, he had severe complications. The first year of his life was spent entirely in the hospital. My mom would spend every night with him.

She would be at the hospital all night, come home, make sure the rest of us went off to school like we were supposed to, and then go to work. She would come home, spend the evenings with us, and then go back to the hospital. So it went for that year.

It was pretty rough for everyone, but mostly for her, I think. Luis was barely clinging to life that first year, and she was by his side for all of it.

I know how she must feel.

I often contemplate traveling to a new place and trying to build something there. But I don't think I can. Not yet.

My older brother is 23, Donaldo is already off in the Army, Barbara is 19 now and is still going to school in Mexico. They're ready to be on their own, if they wish.

But not the boy.

It's a puzzling thing. I don't think there is much I could really offer him if I stuck around; nothing I provide now is essential to his upbringing.

But then, who would give him a hard time?

And what about me? Who else is able to infuriate me to no end?

I don't know. I'm going to bed.

Oops, almost forgot to take off my pants.

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