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Well, my Summer is getting to its end. I'm looking forward to it and also dreading it. What with my job up in the air but still having to prepare everything just in case. And the three assignments I have are really hard. I'm familiar with the topics but I feel like a fucking virgin. Touched for the very first time by serious academia.

But what the hell. I'll just dive in and we'll see if I swim or sink. Most probably will come out coughing. It's always like that.

Oh, and I have to comment on your long distance call. You're living your own Harlequin romance. Bodice ripper readers unite. I can see your idealized latin lover on the cover, with the hero in his arms riding to the sunset. It's good for you, I imagine to have this flights of fancy. The Goddess knows I've had them, too. They help shoulder our harsh (or so perceived) realities.

I think we all need those little fantasies (because they're mainly in our head and our rational mind is not allowed to intervene) in order to trudge through whatever it is that we are going through (family shit, school problems, relationships, work, etc) and we find unbearable. You and I I'm convinced live our own little soap operas, with minor and major dramas, bursts of lust and syrupy romantic interludes. All that followed by whatever 'bad phase' we go through. And then we start again.
Not that we create the drama, or that drama bedeviles us. It's just that that's the way it is.

I remember once that you told me that what you write in your blogs is not 'exactly what happened'. Kind of like the A Million Little Pieces thing. With characters made up of 'several people'. Or like in the Night Listener, where a writer finds himself being obsessed by a teen who writes about his terrible and abused childhood (he was in porn films by the age of eight, has AIDS, etc, etc, etc). Only to discover that the teen may be a fourty-year-old woman that may or not be blind. Kind of the J.T. LeRoy scam.

I can see why and how someone could come up with that 'composite of people' and events to basically edit their lives, living out the boring and pedestrian and include the exciting and rare. Like Armisted Maupin's hero, you seem to find the storytelling process much more interesting than the living of the actual events. So I hope you can make your road trip. I'm sure this time you'll get to do him (or viceversa, or whichever permutation is it that you're into at the moment, but knowing Latin men, you'll probably be on your hands and knees). Good luck with your fantasy. Hopefully, it'll get to nothing and your Summer will be totally memorable, with the memory of the phone calls ringing in your brain and the unquenchable desire for the exotic reawakened.

I, meanwhile will try to keep my feet on the ground. At this age those flights of fancy are dangerous. Older bones do not heal quickly and totally. And I don't want to start limping now. It would ruin the effect with whatever incarnation I decide to come up with in the Fall.
Cheers, Babyboy.

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