A Week in the Life of Gustavo

"Seems to think that if he fails to write, la migra will find him."--OC Weekly More merriment available at ronmaydon@yahoo.com

ter├ža-feira, dezembro 11, 2001

I'm at UCLA right now, praying that my finals came out OK. I'm supposed to meet one of my professors so that he can write me a letter of recommendation for a fellowship I am applying for.

This year has just been insane and it's getting even crazier as the days pass. Mind you, I use "insane" in the most literal meaning, as in I can't believe the things that have happened. About a year ago today, I was at Chapman courting a Mexican national who didn't like me because I talked about politics and myself too much. I was planning on applying to schools all over the US in an effort to get out of the hellhole that is OC. I was finishing up a story for the Weekly (which would be my first cover story) but constantly getting rejected for not writing good enough.

Fast-foward to now. I'm a grad student at UCLA who likes the atmosphere but absolutely loves the journalism life. I'm somewhat known in the community, both in good and bad terms, and am despised by the extremes of the left and right. I'm committed to staying in OC, but am also planning to leave for at least a year to try out my journalism chops. I'm courting a woman who's absolutely crazy for me but thinks I'm crazy and is crazy herself (sorry! :-). The world is insane.

But you know what? I like the world to be insane. I like being told that my stories suck by FAN then being called the only Latino alternative voice in Southern California by the last Latino alternative voice, Ruben Martinez. I like the fact that I communicate with my friends all over the country, and I have a bunch of them! In destroying my computer, I noticed that I have about 75 people in my address book, people that I communicate with in one way or another at least once a week. That is a lot of people.

I don't know what the future brings, where it will take me, or who I will be talking to, hating, loving, exposing, or trying to remember to forget. All I know is that I will be writing and I will be loving my life--whether I admit it or not.