I'm whipped.

Today was the first time I saw Fran since what I so affectionatley call 'the kiss' in my heart. I started shaking and I had to be careful how often I looked into his eyes. What if I got lost?

When we're together, I forget to breathe. My brain shuts down and I don't think like I should. No words transfer except "Wow". I have no idea why he affects me so much.

When I leave him to go to class, I'm shaking and easy to make smile, but I feel empty at thesame time and I can feel my heart breaking. Sometimes I feel physically sick. Sometimes I really want to cry. Right now I'm super happy because I saw him, but at the sametime I can't help but wonder if I would feel like this if I hadn't.

I feel betrayed in this insanely ridiculous way becuase Fran and I can be open with our feelings for each other, but for some reason it's so incredible hush hush with the others. I want to tell the world that I love him.

I love him....

I started and finished 'A Walk To Remember' last night. I cried and it was an oddly miserable content feeling.

I cried while holding Alex's raggity sweatshirt that he sent me (and it still has his smell) and I knew that I missed them so much. Everyone.

Then I thought I only have 3 and a half months left anyway which isn't such a substantial amount of time. I rolled over and thought some more. Fran. I would be leaving Fran. I couldn't do it. Hold it in I mean. I burst open and sobbed.

It's been a while. Oops.

I changed host families yesterday and it was by far one of the most weirdest feelings I've ever had. I was glad to get out of that hell hole that I'd lived in for so long (Only two and a half months, but it felt like the whole year) and be in more of a family setting, but as the same time it sucked so much when Lily said that she was sorry she wasn't a better Mom for me.

"It's okay Lily, you did a lot for me. Look at me now. I'm in school and healthy"

She was skeptical. I don't think that she thought I was serious about it, but I really meant it.

School was an absolute dream after being couped up in the house for two weeks straight. Seeing all my friends....I had to hold back tears. I know now much much I'll miss them. Sure I want to go home because I want to see everybody and speak a language that I'm 100 percent confident in, but regardless of the mistakes that I make here, my friends here still love me and I love them.

Today is Good Friday and myself going to a Catholic School have been told not to bother coming. Sweetness. I can deal (I just wish I could go to Buenos Aires!!! >_<*). So today's plan is to meet Felipe (the Brazilian exchange student I was raving about a few entries ago). Don't ask me what we're doing. He just called this morning while I was asleep and said 'Let's go do something'. Whatever. I like getting out now. I don't feel guilty doing it.

This family is great. I have two sisters who live with me, a Mom, a Dad, a brother who is married and has a son (who is my host nephew), and the other brother JUST moved out recently. He's my hero. He went to Indiana on exchange. Actually, EVERYONE in the family has gone on exchange. Except Magda, my host Mom. I have another sister too, but she's currently on exchange in Austria. She was a bitch when I met her though. No loss.

I still miss my first familiy like crazy-ness, and I feel angry becuase Liz and Saskia get to be there when they hated the idea of going there in the first place. Liz is in love with my biggest brother Ariel, Saskia could probably second that. It's frustrating that they're stealing my family.

On a lighter note which doesn't include and intended pun, I tried on my pants that my Mom brought for me from the states. They didn't fit when she came, if fact I almost told her to bring it all back with her. I'm glad I kept them because I can proudly say that my size 8 pants fit now. Except in the butt. I've lost weight in my butt. I can wear my punk-esque clothes now. I feel weird in them though since I haven't worn form fitting clothes in months.

So things that have happened..... hm. I went to a family dinner last night and ate fondue for the first time. It's good. I was also told that the girls aren't going to Buenos Aires so that means I'm not either. I found the bus stop in the neighborhood and can walk from the house to the bus stop, ride the bus, get off the bus and walk to school in a rather minimal amount of time. Or Fran's house!

Bah, Fran. I'm sooooo completely wrapped up in his spell. I feel like there's something wrong with the relationship, like a taboo and that's kinda hot. He's a year and a half younger than me, meaning he's 15. He's got me around his pinky finger and I'm just waiting for his call, pining. This isn't healthy. If I get anymore love sick, I'm going to randomly burst into song like in some type of musical and the people on the street will start doing back flips and sing back up.

The thing that confuses me though, is that Felipe called ME instead of a school friend or Gilm, the other Brazilian. Cray-zay.

Allow me to finish this entry now. I only have 15 minutes left until I meet Felipe at the fountain in front of Patio Olmos shopping.

Rini, I hope this entry was long enough to satisfy you crazy cultural needs; and to get some drama. Mmm, drama. ^_^*

Paz, CONEJO!

It's funny, it hasn't even been a week since I was bitching to Fantin in school how long it's been since I have kissed someone.

Fran an I have gotten super closer over the past few days because of school and seeing each other. Today I went to school to pick him up so he'd have someone to travel back to my neighborhood with (he lives in my neighborhood on the weekends). We had a good time.

We went to his house and he ate his lunch, then later we went to my house and chilled. It started raining and we went on the covered patio and talked about the rain and music and school and anything else that came to mind. It was nice. We bonded.

He had to go at around 8, so I walked him to the corner of Parque De Las Naciones and Adolfo....something.

"Wait," I said before he left the curb. "Can I...?"

I stalled for what felt like a minute.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yeah."

And we kissed. I had my first kiss in Argentina.

My whipped iced dairy drink brings the attentions of many males to my place of residence and/or employment, and they declare that its quality far surpasses that of yours. Absolutely, it far surpasses yours. I could convey to you the proverbial recipe, but I would have to demand compensation.

Wow. Pop music is intelectual.

I realize that I'm one of the most selfish and jealous people in the whole world. For example, when I want something and I work at it, I don't want to share it. This is especially true with boys. Lending money I have no problem with and nor do I have a problem treating a friend to lunch. I drive myself crazy with technicalities.

Then there are some things that make me think. I just step back from the situation and think 'Holy shit'. Today I felt an example of this.

I was riding on the bus at a guy was holding onto the pole to keep steady and he had scars all up and down the inside of his arms. I stared and stared with little though actually being processed until I realized how hard I was clapping my hand over my own scars. I looked down to my arm and saw the pale angelic like scars.

I wanted to show him mine. Tell him my story. I realized I didn't really have one. Not a reason to start cutting, but I did it anyway and I loved it. I miss it sometimes. The pain from piercings goes away after a week and I'm worse than I was before. I had my taste of pain and I liked it and I wanted more.

Average people think I'm sick. I can't tell anyone this. It's harder than hell to try to explain because when you think you've finally gotten your point across, they ask you if you've been to a shrink lately.

It's not so much as trying to have someone understand, it's more of the satisfaction of not having to carry this burden and it's satisfactory. To me, telling someone is just as satisfactory as inflicting pain onto myself. My problem is that I have to be very careful in choosing who to tell. I can tell Ariana or Alex or someone like that, but I have to tell a new person everytime that I ha(d/ve) this problem. I have to be DAMNED careful so that I won't be turned in to the nuthouse.

Therefore, if I can't tell anyone, I cut.

I can't believe that any of it makes sense. It's okay if it doesn't but I just satisfacted myself just then beyond what I could have ever done by cutting.

Today was actually an awesome day despite getting up at 9 in the morning to go to the Plaza De San Martin. I got there early for a Rotary function and the new exchange students were there. It made me feel so entirely old, looking at all this fresh, new blood (even though the majority are older than me). The two Brasilians are probably my two favorite exchange students (now replacing Karen and Nicole who seemed to be doing thier damnest to ignore me today.

One is named... oh shit. Gilmar! He's from the same province as Andre was from. He's a real nice guy. He's a little taller than me with brown eyes and very pretty dirty blonde hair. He's 16, a young 'un. ^_^*

And then there's Felipe. Okay, so his full name is Luiz Felipe de Paulo Lofti, but that's hard for me to get my pierced tounge around, ya know? So we just call him Felipe. He's tall with this beautiful long, dark hair. His skin is darker than your average persons (certainly more so than mine), and he has the most beautiful eyes. He's 17, like me, but 6 months older.

Neither of them speak english. ^_^* That makes me happy.

I couldn't stop staring at Felipe. My heart just pounded and I felt so much happier than before.

So getting back to my original story, I was early, but so were the boys and Fran, the girl from New Zealand. I got up to having a really super good conversation with them. If they like Argentina, how long they've been here, all that exchange shit.

We stood up and watched the unveiling of the new, sexier statue of San Martin, and we were all in our blazers. It was hotter than fuck, and most of us were wearing pants. Gilmar and Felipe were wearing their school uniform; pants and a long sleeve dress shirt with a tie. When you put on the blazer over than. I could imagine how completely MISERABLE they were.

I stole a glance at Felipe when we were standing their trying to promote peace by holding our damned flags. Well, I tried at least. He was already looking at me so I got busted. He fanned himself with a fan. "Que calor!" He mouthed to me. I smiled and giggled.

After that, we went out to lunch with a group of exchange students and I got yelled at by Jackie for drinking beer with my tounge newly pierced (Fuck off, I'm drinking with the boys, not you!).

They questioned me what she had said. I told them I couldn't smoke or drink for the next week (even though I don't smoke). "Ahh," Felipe said in spanish. "That means you can't kiss either." I shrugged.

So Felipe has a camera phone and he showed me pictures of all his friends and family back home in Brasil. He had some, shall I say.... incriminating pictures of a drunken night at home with his host brother and his friends here. I smiled at all of them and I actually thought they were genuinely funny (Come on! You can get a penis joke out of me ANY day!).

So we drank and he smoked (fine, I stole two puffs off of his damn cigarette, okay?!) and we had a great time. We promised each other we'd go out to a night club together. I said for him to call me sometime, and he said 'call me too'. Okay, if I must. ^_^*

When he left I felt all tingly inside and I can't help but think something so incredibly wierd....

I just met the love of my life.

Well, here it is. I FINALLY did it.