Knock me out of the water.
Monday. 2.11.08 7:54 pm
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.
Rock off, you hypocrite
Sunday. 2.10.08 2:01 pm
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.
Thursday. 2.7.08 11:36 pm
Of course, the one time that I bet (not with money, only with pride) on the outcome, it changes. And, of course, afterwards it changes back.
Ah, well. I had a pleasant 15 minute conversation, and by my sweaty socks, I will be happy with it.
Don't ask why I cared about the conversation that much, because I don't think there's a particularly good reason. I'm just compulsive.
To make my point, the pizza cutter that I filched from the kitchen downstairs is sitting on the computer desk in front of me. I was going to use it in a picture, but now I've forgotten. Maybe I'll remember in the middle of the night. That'd be cool.
There has been a Spanish quiz every day this week, and another tomorrow. Maybe I'll be better prepared than I was this morning. :O
I love the guys at Black20.com. They're my heroes. And YES, I did swear by my sweaty socks earlier. Compulsive, yet again.
As of right now, Garth Nix is my favorite writer. Not only does he have a cool name, but he's pretty adept at making up fantasy style worlds that actually make sense. He's a magic/fiction thing writer. Wrote Shade's Children and the Sabriel series. All very good.
My eyes hurt. I'm going to finish this song, take them out, hit the sack, and then go to bed.
Nostalgia at 16 years.
Monday. 2.4.08 11:05 pm
I just watched a few odd episodes of season one of Digimon. And now I miss it terribly. I would pay a lot of money for the first two seasons on DVD, possibly the third also.
That was my favorite show, hands down. But we've never been a big TV family, so I kind of lost touch with it.
I mean, Invader Zim is awesome, but it doesn't have the personal aspect that Digimon has. Oh, man.
I haven't wanted anything material for a long time. And now I want something rather badly. Crap.
Digimon absolutely beats the crap out of Pokemon, too. Pokemon is just a kid trying to...train is pokemon or something. Digimon is a story of:
1) Saving the world
2) Lots of friendship and love themes. Healthy stuff.
3) Innocent little hug buddies transforming into monstrous, but friendly, death machines just seals the deal. Seriously.
4) Like Pokemon before season n, there are lots of monster forms and such, but still at a manageable level. Knowing each one is half the fun.
Deep down, I think we all want our own digimon.
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