I swear, my mom is illogical. She must be. Nothing she says or does makes sense.

Last night we went out to Olive Garden as a family. This is a rare event for two reasons.
1) HA, a family?
2) It's not the Outback Steakhouse. So it's not frequently eaten at.

Anyway, we met some family friends who had just finished their meal, and they ate with us. It was cool because these aren't stuffy adults. They're great, and I enjoy hanging out with them almost as much as their son. Maybe even a little more, actually. John's a little annoying sometimes.

Our waitress was my favorite kind; she was talkative, friendly, maybe a little mischievous. She was really easy to talk to, and somehow my mom got her on the subject of working at the restaurant.

Mom told the waitress that I would never start off washing dishes, that I'd rather work with a computer. That I was "looking for the inventor of work." I am so sick of her stupid expressions. The waitress was like, "...what?"

"It doesn't make sense, don't bother trying to understand it."

Mom will get an idea in her head, and she will not let go or SHUT UP about it. Working in front of a computer? Ew. I'd get so bored. She is OBSESSED with the idea that all I EVER do is watch videos on Youtube. She seems to think that I'm ignorant about the state of my home life, as if I don't notice that things aren't great.

She takes jabs at me because I have awful memory. Every time I don't do something, she says, "That's your selective short term memory, Stevie," even if I've just finished explaining to her why I didn't do something. She can't talk, because she forgets more than I do. She gets angry if we remind her to do something in case she's forgotten, which does happen all the time.

She always tells me to do something at the worst possible time. I don't see how she could be doing it on purpose, but it's kind of hard to do by accident, too. Either RIGHT when I sit/lay down, RIGHT after I leave the room where I need to be doing, or after I'm all the way upstairs. For example, I was upstairs, in bed, reading, and she called me down to do some dishes. When I finish, I walk out of the kitchen, and halfway to the steps she asks me to go get her keys from the kitchen door. Meanwhile, she's laying on the couch in the adjacent room.

To top it off, she loves to bring up an argument that's already been solved or has ground into silence, and if (after I've told her I don't want to hear it anymore) I walk away she will ground me. She complains that everyone bends backwards for me to get my way, but when I try to make a sacrifice she doesn't let me.

I don't think she should be able to call me a rotten obnoxious little kid until she actually knows me. And she definitely doesn't know me at all.

Oh, and Sarah, you suck for venting. It's not funny. I hope you realize that.

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Mum let me borrow some of Dad's stuff, and I've got one of his journals. This one tells his impressions (political, social, religious) of his trips to Egypt and Istanbul.

He writes in all caps, but in a good way. I think I already knew that, actually.

Hmm. I usually keep this junk to myself. Guess the keyboard was just handy.

As far as missing him goes, this journal is way better than the camera gear. I need more. I want to know how he thought. Maybe see where I'm headed in life.

Everyone says I act like him. I certainly look like him.

I'll go find more stuff.

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There's an eclipse tonight. The next one will be 20 days before my birthday during my first year after graduating high school.

Good night.

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I don't know what to do with this thing. Nutang seems to be growing into old age, and it's a bit sad...I pretty much only post now to keep a a semi-interesting journal for me to read later, but is that all there is to blogging?

My temper has cooled a bit, I supposed. I don't feel the need to explain and justify every little opinion I have anymore...was that all just a teenager thing? Either I don't care anymore or I think that nobody cares to read it...either way, I haven't had a nice rant in a while. I still have discussions with my friends sometimes, but even those aren't really intellectually stimulating. Not that my friends are dull or anything, I just don't find much interest in it.

Also, I can't help but feel that I've already said everything that needs to be said. It's as if nothing new will ever happen to me again, and the interesting aspects of my life are too tedious to type out for later, especially if I have lots of pictures. Am I so uninspired? Everything seems so tired.

The only thing that really keeps me going right now is MIT and the joy I have in my friends. Music is nice when I can get it, but it's not really something that can satisfy a person for long.



I really want to get into parkour. It's not just something fun to do or a way to keep fit for a while. It's a philosophy, a way of life. Becoming self-resourceful, maximizing potential, treating and using my body the way it was meant to be so that I can move anywhere through any terrain at any time, and by extension becoming better at life. Setting goals. Working. Improving. It's what we're made to do and I've gotten so caught up with today's day and age that I don't really know those skills. I think that happens to a lot of people, but whatever. I want to be better.

This is NOT a New Year's resolution. This is more of an 18th Birthday resolution.

Hey, now, that wasn't so bad after all.

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