-----------| Lost: One idea| Last seen: In Pat's car Nov 26th| Desc: Failed to write down idea,| left with impression that it was| deep philosophical insight| If found return to Pat Gunn-----------
I saw the house that I liked today. It wasn't quite as nice as it's nextdoor cousin, but I still really like it. I called my Mother about it, and she insisted on focusing on the neighborhood and the condition of it. I know it looks bad from the outside, and she won't like the neighborhood. She's probably going to visit next weekend. Ack! I have work then! I just remembered! Anyhow, she wants to bring my Dad down and have them find me an apartment. She insists that I want a nice-looking, smaller, newish place in a good neighborhood. Darn it, I know what I care about, and I really like the size of that half-duplex. Sure, it's ugly on the outside, and the neighborhood isn't that great, but it's huge. She says I deserve something better. Darn it, I'm 23, I have a college degree and a respectable job, and she still thinks that I can't choose where I want to live effectively. Sure, I can be gullable when it comes to business stuff, largely because I tend to be too meek with people I'm not angry with, so she's certainly a better negotiator than me on business matters, but I at least think I can choose for myself what I want to look for in a residence. Argh. I don't know if I want to let her choose where I live, nor if I want her 'blessing' on other matters of this sort. But.. perhaps I wouldn't mind her at least coming down and looking around at apartment stuff. It's at least concievable she might be made to understand my desire to live in a large, inexpensive dwelling and could find me a better place. It's at least worth a shot, I guess, although I hate to give her license to interfere with my life anymore. Frankly, I think she considers me someone who likes rebellion for the pure thrill of it, and thinks most of my character is built around that kind of thinking.
The Indian Oven opened its new location today. It used to be in a very tiny place that used to be an apartment. Now it's in a huge-ass, very impressive restaurant downtown. The food is still great. I ordered a maximally spicy Chicken Curry, and got a Chicken Vindaloo to go. I can still feel the curry, and the vindaloo is in the fridge. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
Oh, I rediscovered a very spiffy website today. Take a look here. Read the story She hates my futon. Read the diary of the author. I'm addicted.