Journal, January 26, 1977 PM

I have seen so many milk trucks in the last two days that it’s making me homesick for Wisconsin. San Carlos really is dairy farming country. The town we are staying in, Ciudad Quesada, translates to Cheesy City, and it ought to be with all the milk produced nearby.

We got out into some lower land today, and thus pretty well out of dairy cattle country & into a beef cattle region. It was hot, and in La Fortuna, where Enrique had promised us it would be easy to get samples, we had to really scrape to get one. Oranges, however, were abundant, and 3 of us bought 200 at 7 Colones per hundred. It rained on them on our way back here. I hope that doesn’t ruin them.

People are the same everywhere. I always am a prime target for jokes because of my quietness and lack of assertiveness. Today I failed to conform by eating a big lunch. I wasn’t hungry due to the heat and all the jostling around in the jeep this morning, & because I had eaten a big breakfast & fruit all morning. When they started in speculating that I was on a diet or trying to save money for my wedding, I clammed completely up (as usual), so they were left to speculate at leisure.

I wonder if it’s really true that insecure people are more upset by nonconformity? It makes sense to me.

I’ve been very horny all day today, and because I was wearing cloth pants (until I showered just now), I would get out of the back of the jeep and be embarrassed to go meet a farmer (or better a farmer’s wife), because of the projection made by my hardened organ. My tactic was to carry the sample bag strategically located. One of life’s little hassles! At least now I can smile about such a problem instead of getting uptight as I used to.

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