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Thursday, August 12, 2004

Last night, Joe and I made ourselves sick with depression, but it felt real. Sometimes, wrapping up yourself in sadness makes you feel as if you are not living in corners dodging signs of your previous life. Denial then acceptance, right?

We found houses for sale in Bayamon. The website included a map. We hit the zoom buttons in and out and then the compass directions until we found where our home used to be then we zig-zagged through until we got to school.

AOL has a keyword for our mall, Plaza las Americas, so we took a trip there. We looked at mall's layout and plotted our steps with the mouse's cursor. We peeked in at the shoes we should be buying, the shirts we should be admiring, and the ensembles we should be craving.

We detoured through web-based radio searching for our stations. We unsuccessfully tried to shop at a website for Boricuas grounded stateside.

We read news articles concerning our neighbors, and even checked the movie listings. Laughing at the times we saw movies and spent more time reading than watching the movie.

After all that traveling, we were exhausted. We vainly checked plane ticket prices and sighed over the hefty price tag we have too often paid.

Tears rested in our eyes as we pushed the X in the corner to end our travels . . . at least for last night.

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