Hace un ano...

No tengo que trabajar esta noche! Tengo que comparar un regalo para Paul--hoy es nuestro aniversario (un ano juntos). Me parece increible--un ano. Tanto ha pasado, y me siento tanta mayor. Recuerdo quien era hace un ano...estaba tan emocionada. Nunca habia tenido novio antes. He aprendido tanto el ano pasado: del amor, cierto, pero mas de la amistad.

En Paul, encontre un mejor amigo-- algo que no habia tenido hace mucho tiempo. Era la primavera cuando nos conecimos. Nos gustaba helado y caminar por el parque, y peliculas de Disney.

No era cierto si el se quedara aqui; su familia esaba aqui para el empleo de su padre, pero el trabjo era solamente para un ano. Recuerdo el miedo-- no queria perderle. Era dia maravilloso cuando decidio asistir a una universidad en mi ciudad.

Y ahora, estamos aqui, un ano mas tarde. No se lo que pasara el ano proximo, pero para hoy, estoy contenta.

La primavera ha venido otra vez, y para hoy, soy solo una chiquita enamorada.

Disaffection

Having finally exhausted about every webpage containing the words "El Bolson, Argentina," I resorted this afternoon to creeping Joel Stein.

Stein is the lucky guy who is paid, as he bragged last month, to write a weekly column about himself in a news magazine. It was in Time (namely, The Awesome Column) in which I first encountered his witty, embarrassingly egotistical prose. I was in love at once. In love, and not a little jealous.

A whole column in a prestigious publication in which to ramble on about his high school SAT score, his consultations with a psychic, and potential names for a child he doesn't have. It was no fair. I could do that.

I want his job.

The more of his work I read though (online, at his website, http://www.thejoelstein.com/), the more I realized that while I'd love his job, I'd hate his life.

Stein has described his career as a desperate search for attention, and after reading about six of the essays posted online (the site is intended to one day be a complete collection of his work (as a resource for the "many of you who are probably writing a PhD dissertation about me," as his introduction states), I was convinced of this being true. His immense egotism, while appreciable in the weekly doses from Time, does begin to grate when read in bulk, and quickly.

It seems he was recently married, too...I cannot imagine. If his self-centeredness wasn't enough, one would think his frequent and entirely unabashed mention of his porn addiction would be an acceptable red flag.

So while the I remain slightly envious, I suppose I can excuse his having a great job, while I'm still stocking Yoplait and Charmin at six am. Because The Awesome Column might be the only part of his life worth being proud of.