soso is ok sometimes

I talked to my dad on the phone today. Mom too. :)

And I started my budget, which needs finishing asap, and my homework, which isn't due for another two days, at least, one day now.

I'm thinking to write the story of this dragon I was writing about for a choose your own adventure forum game that the players lost interest in. The adventure was ish, but I like the idea I had for the story so I think I'll try to write it. And now, back to trash tv (but online :D ) and intermittent bursts of homework.

And I already prayed and I think I'll brush my teeth now and then when I get tired, I can just pass out. I took the day off already, but now I'm debating actually going to Fem 2.0 tomorrow to ask people what feminism is, or not. We'll see. All I ask of myself is not to let fear and inertia rule the day. If I go, go to be there. If I don't, don't for a good reason. That's all I ask of myself.

I could always go in the morning and then not miss my classes, too. I like that idea.

You know what? I need to go, for my mom. Because it isn't clear, because women like us, she and I, don't know what the word means, and because there's this negative connotation to it that I don't think it deserves.

I should go to that conference. I should do the first year of Obama project too. That's where, starting exactly one month after the inauguration of Barack Obama, I ask one person a day (or, more accurately, I get one usable audio quote per day) about what they think of Obama. And at the end of the year, I have a record and an audio piece and maybe, a pretty cool collection of vox populi. (I think that is the correct term.)

PS: I am in love with Halushki's writing style:

A nuclear family outing, motoring through suburbia at $2.89 per gallon on our way to the local indoor shopping establishment, trying to enjoy our drive even though we can actually hear the thin white needle of the fuel gauge slashing through our bank account like the sleek, sharp scimitars of so many miniature Saudi princes…

http://www.halushki.com/2006_04_01_archive.html

That is poetry.

PPS: I don't get to be miserable anymore, because it looks like my family isn't going to block my plans for the summer. (Don't get all liberationist on me, It's an old-fashioned approach. :) Anyway, being able to make plans is a beautiful thing, even if I won't quite believe them until the airplane wheels touch down this summer and my brother goes back home.

PPPS, because I just can't seem to finish this: Be very fucking careful what you wish for. Remember this little gem of poor amateur verse? Yeah. That's all I'ma say. Just, yeah.