Friday, August 5
So I was wrong about the being on the rag and not being cranky thing. I guess birth control is making my hormones conform to the stereotypes, and this particular stereotype I don't like. My mom pissed me off so many fucking times today that I lost count, and that I actually did that "ARRRRRRRRRGGGHHH" thing for the first time in years. And I mean fucking years, man.

During dinner and quite a few past dinners, my mom always does that "So what is your career choice?" thing to every person who belongs in the latest generation. Of course the doctor or author or high-profile big money making, typical occupation comes up. I despise living a life doing something you don't want, and I got in trouble for kidding that I wanted to be a trucker - sitting on my ass all day, eating quarter pounders and blasting music. My mom claims that that is not a good job for a woman (so I guess she doesn't know about my penis yet). Which is exactly what I do now, without the 70 MPH. It was a joke, being that I'm undecided and my mom took it too seriously. I guess I can't really blame her, because the trucker occupation suits me quite well. Except that I can never understand the american, or any, road system. Make me drive on one road and truck driving will be my soul-job.

Yesterday while everybody was in the van driving to the Palisades mall, Tina pointed out these girls walking on the sidewalk. The kind of girls who wouldn't like me. You know who they are. So I said out loud about them, "Hookers!" Sorry, that slipped.

Cut to when we're driving home. The word "hooker" is being said quite often around the car by folks other than me, and my mom, the driver, all the way from up front, starts yelling that I look like the hooker and that I shouldn't be talking. That thing in the morning was true though. They were hookers. Middle school ones.

Alas, today during dinner she didn't snap at my snap. She was talking to the cousins and my dad about her wanting a japanese style house in America someday, and that the vietnamese don't have a unique style of their own. She then said, "You know why?" - about to answer it herself, you know, that type of figure of speech. Knowing that she'll take about fifteen minutes to explain, I decide against shoving that next spoonful of food in my mouth and yap, "Because too many people took over the country throughout history so we're unoriginal." Meaning that our country never had the time to develop itself into something unique because of the constant imperialism taking place in it.

She agreed and I didn't get a lashing from her fiery mouth and golfball eyes staring me down like a UFO beam turning Keith Richards into a cactus.


Christina N. @ 2:29 AM