2001-06-20 10:42 a.m. So last night pretty much sucked. StepDad is at the beach installing a commercial-grade icemaker in the basement. Hee. No more running to the Shore Stop for CharmCity's family. Nosireebob. We've got all the ice one could ever need. We could ice down enough beer to quench an army. (And if I'm in a war, I want to fight that army!) Aaaaaanyway.... since he was out of town, I skipped work early and Mom and I went to dinner. I had to drop some stuff off at my storage place and Mom and I decided to reward our 10 minutes of physical labor with dinner at a great little bistro-type place in dowtown Fred-neck. So Mom starts asking me about work and if I'm really happy there and if I see a future with my company. All questions she knows the answer to. (Rrrr. No and No.) I tell her these things and proceed to vent my frustrations on the execs with their big bonuses and expense accounts and phatty cars while the rest of us are faced with layoffs and diminished bonuses and the like. I tell her that I'm not really worried about getting layed off. I admit that it could happen, but that my company would be foolish to do it as I am the only one who a.) does my job or b.) knows how to do my job. So Mom tells me that the execs are held to a different standard and I should learn to deal with it. Furthermore, I'm pretty damn cocky to view myself as indispensible. Rrrrr... Annoying, but whatever. Then she starts with her Oprah recaps for the week. Oprah, apparently, asks her viewers what their passion is. Mom asked me what my passion was. (does the Spice Channel count?) I really have no idea what my passion is. I mean, I know of things that I like, things that I enjoy doing, but I don't know if I have a *passion*. This seemed to annoy Mom. Her message was that I should find out what I really love to do and do that and not worry about making a million dollars - that happiness was more important. My message was that I have certain financial committments on a monthly basis (by the names of Mastercard, Visa, Honda, Sprint PCS and the U.S. Dept. of Education) and that dream jobs are great, but they need to be able to allow me to live. The conversation eventually degraded into Mom's idealism vs. my pragmatism. I don't think either of us did a good job at appreciating the other's views. What was perfectly clear was that I am now officially Mom's newest project. I don't want to be a project. I don't want her to see me as something that is broken and in need of fixing. So my job sucks. So I don't have a girlfriend. I'm NOT broken! She's thinking alot about my career and talking with friends of hers to get me fixed up with eligable young ladies they know. I love my mother to death, but i really didn't like the theme of last night. So we left the restaurant and headed ovr to the Sports Authority so I could buy some new Tevas. I *live* in my Tevas in the summmertime. I'd wear 'em to work if I could get away with it. My current pair has lasted me six years, but the velcro is just about shot. Buuut... not only did SA not have more than 3 different kinds of Tevas on the shelf, the sizes were either too big or too small for my li'l feets. (size: 9.5) The stupid zit-faced SA employees all had their heads up their asses and didn't know if they had any in the back or if they were expeting more later in the week. FU SA. So annoyed at Mom and annoyed at the SA, we drove back home. The only upshot of the night was that I finally did a little rewiring on the new surround sound that stepDad installed. The sound would fade out at random times and sounded way too tinny, so I worked some magic and managed to fix the problem. Unrelated thought: I really need a hobby. Any thoughts on what to do with my spare time? I found my "Teach Yourself 3d Studio Max in 24 Hours" book again. I may try to learn 3d art.... We'll See. downtown----uptown leave me a note, fool!

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