Oh, God, why don't you just kill me now? And we can end with this nonsense D:
Today I went with my group of scripwriting into London to talk about our respective treatments but... seriously, my summary of the new story is quite bad writen (and of course, they told me politely)
You know how embarrassing is to be bad in something that you must be proud of in your own language? It's very hard for me. The worst part of all, without a doubt... well, maybe the incommunication doesn't help either...
But anyway... it could be worse. Really. And finally, a shy guy that spoke less than me (and I'm no so talkative in spanish, imagine how can I be in english...) offered to help me with my treatment. The others are not really interested in my problems and stuff, but that one, after see my drawings, began to show interest.
I have his e-mail >:D
Now I can start to harass him to death!! (or until he runs away from me... comprensible... even in spanish...)
Seriously, is hard to find someone who simply wants to talk with you... at least, for me. I'm weird, I know, I'll never really find so many people whith my own interest... but at least, I need someone from Britain to practise u__u
whatever... Did you know that I'm developing some kind of "narrator"? Yes, like in that book of Christopher Moore, The stupidest angel, in which the town's mad woman, Molly Michon, has a voice in her head who suggests her to do stupid/dangerous things while she is interacting with people. I'm... so lonely.
That's why, while all the people was leaving, walking to their houses, my narrator started to speak, nervous: "Oh well... they're walking away... and they're not going to speak with you anymore. Again, no friends to talk with... Quick, offer them sex in return of friendship!!"
"Oh, non-psychotic voice inside my head, please, shut up ¬¬"
And yeeeeees... that's my life :D
Sad, isn't it?
PD: I have to put it a name... I take suggestions...
PD2: Maybe I have to say that it's only a joke :S ... I'm not sure about how the humour of the people works...