The F train was messed up this morning. I love commuting on the train. I'm not being sarcastic. I find that it is a truly intimate experience with other people. When I observe people, I know them. When I know them, I love them. When Michelle and I ride the train together, we get the same senses about people. We notice the same things too. When I sit next to a man who insists on having his legs open when there's not enough room for that, I open mine too so that our legs are pressing against each other. It means we are communicating throughout the ride. Sometimes I really want to touch people or lean on them. Today there was a cute, short girl standing with her back close to me. I was inspecting the bright skin of her neck, and I wondered if she would scream or something if I put my arm around her waist, like how I hold MK when I'm the big spoon. I also felt that my bum kept brushing against the lap of the guy behind me when the train lurched, and I didn't mind. It makes me feel close to people, like one of them, as if we are a unit, in the one car of the subway train.
Last night during class I realized that I remember almost nothing from Tuesday morning when I observed and tutored students at the high school. I just hope that I my behavior was appropriate, besides the one class that I know I made a bad impression in by falling asleep. It won't happen again!
I don't want to do anything today. I have to work on transcribing a poem into IPA, and I chose one of my favorite poems, Ariel. I guess I have nothing else to say. Oh, Magdalena has been calling me three times a day and I'm glad we're friends again. I'm still not talking to G., and I feel badly because she might be sick, but my true feeling is that she doesn't even really like me, so why should we be friends? She was always judging me and telling me that I'm mean. She doesn't understand me or herself.
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