I'm 31 years old.
In one and a half hours i discussed society and community and rights and legal systems and laws of behavior with Amel. Then i opened at random a poem book by Mario Benedetti, and he says that cumpleaños are not important, but cumpledías we should have and live. Cumplehoras and cumpleinstantes, i think, which is what i lived tonight. Maraca came as i was putting the book down and told me about a friend of hers threatening suicide. Then my mom called, and then a group of 25 latino students sang las mañanitas in front of my window... They threw snowballs at me, and i hugged them all and then they tried to put me in the shower. Then Harold came and tried to call his mom in Colombia, and we've been talking now about maturity and growing up and being yourself.
An now i'm calling my mom back again.
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