I haven’t been through this kind of emotion swing since I was a teenager. I’m a bit ashamed at the extreme nature of the emotional responses that just welled forth, whether they wanted to or not, but damn, I got out what I needed to.

The conversation started out as a discussion between my mother and I about irresponsibility, new Shelby Township laws, and the government treating its constituents like children. This had followed a good discussion between myself and my mother about drugs, and the reality of them.

Well, Dad came in and entered the conversation. No big deal, he had some valuable points to add. He and I ended up getting pretty into the discussion, as we always do. Dad and I disagreed on a minor point, which seemed major, only because it was what we disagreed upon. This was evolving (de-evolving?) into an argument. My taking responsibility for my choice of living on the fringe of culture came up. Idealism vs. realism came up. Then, we started talking about making the hard choices. Doing what was right.

I feel I have an excellent track record in this. Heh. It’s a good thing, even if I’m not always sure of it. I brought up the most recent example to my parents. My Dad implied that he thought I didn’t have a right to claim a perfect record in that area. I disputed, saying that in everything that had mattered, I had made the *RIGHT* choice, weather it was hard or easy. Dad disagreed, and I asked for an example.

Switching majors. He said that he thought I’d taken the easy way out because I’d had a difficult time for the first years in college.

*snap*

I disagreed. Emphatically. Dad said, as he had said about something else earlier in the night, “If you just take some time and think about it again, you’ll see that that’s the case.” I disagreed again. “I seriously doubt that I’d come to that conclusion.”

Failure. Failure. Failure. Failure.

I got up, and let them know I didn’t want to discuss this any longer. I was suddenly fifteen again. I couldn’t go to my room, as it isn’t really mine any more, so I went into the bathroom. Slammed the door. Attempted vainly to hold back the tears. That’s right, ladies and gents, I hid myself away in the bathroom and sobbed, because even though I’m a hair away from being an MSU student again and even though I’ve worked off thousands of dollars of debt and even though I’ve taken gut-punch after gut-punch at work and even though I’ve betrayed my best friend TWICE because it was the right thing to do, I had taken the easy way out.

Which isn’t even the case. It may have been the WRONG decision to change majors to something I was interested in, rather than something that would open doors, but it was the DECISION I MADE. And it was NOT the easy way out. It was NOT.

I composed myself, and came out, took a big swig of water, and sat down, ignoring my father completely. In full Crampton male style, he didn’t let the issue lie. I can’t remember what he said, but I responded with, “You know what? It’s fine. It’s good. Because now I’m no longer laboring under the impression that I have your respect.” He said that I had his respect, and started to talk again, and I exploded at him. I told him that then, some of my college career might have been for him. But from this point forward, I assured him, I was not going back to school for him. I was not working off my debt for him. I was doing it for ME, and he had no DAMN right to judge me or my actions. He said that he hadn’t been trying to judge me, and I exploded again. I told him that I’d been busting my ass at work, busting my ass trying to get back into school… tears had already been flowing again, and I burst out into sobs once more.

Welcome back to being fifteen and having no idea how to control your emotions. Especially when the man you want to most impress can’t seem to stop bringing up your faults.

I got a kleenex, and there was more talking… he apologized a lot.. I think… it’s kind of fuzzy. I know we brought up the fact that I was trying to bring them back into my life with writing them regularly by snail mail… so he showed me his TV in the den, which had every single post card I’d written standing up in front of the buttons.

And then my dad hugged me. I utterly collapsed back into sobbing, barely getting out the words “your respect means so much to me…” which I had to repeat for him to understand. He hugged me.

We talked after that. I brought up all the stress that was going on in my life right now, and we talked college, and he kept telling me that all mom and him wanted was to see me happy doing what I want, and if he didn’t help me toward that, he wouldn’t be doing his job. I told him, maybe he should ask what that was before he started helping.

He and I both apologized a few more times to each other, and then he and I talked about inherited depression and financial plans … good lord, how we take comfort in numbers… and I left. I had a bit of a talk with Mom out in the driveway, and thankfully, Joe was not there for this…

Dad wrote me an email, apologizing for ruining my easter visit. I have no idea how to reply.

I found this and this.

So tonight, I’m heading to a little house party in Lansing. Two floors, with a lot of DJ’s. No cover, but $5 beers. Good thing I don’t drink beer. So I’m going to check it out tonight. If anyone is into electronic music, and wants to join me, let me know.

Tomorrow, during the day, I’m giong to Old Town to retreive that phone number of the rental company that owns a lot of buildings down there, so I can inquire about loft spaces come August. I’m giong to have to be super-careful of my knees when I move. By then, I should be a student again, and able to use the IM centers for free. No worry about a place to keep working out.

“I’m the cock of the walk!”

I dig DJ Shadow. I think I’m going to scour for some mp3’s and see what I can get for free legally. Just to see.

I am not really ready this early in the morning to deal with retarded customers that have done “research” and have “determined” that the reason they can’t move data (even though they’re getting email… they just can’t get web pages) is because we’ve overloaded our phone lines with people. I’m about to ask the woman to cite her sources. Fuck the business world, I want back in Acadamia, where people think for themselves. Or, at least a bigger percentage do.

I worked out yesterday. Didn’t get to ride the bike, but I did all sorts of stuff on the multi-exercise-weight-pully-machine thing. Fuck if I know what it’s called. Then I moved furniture for with and ate pierogis. And I’m not even sore from the exercise! Can’t beat that shit.

“The day is mine, Trebek!”

Thank you, , for spending time with me yesterday, and to you too, Mike.

Looks like I’m going to enjoy my quarterly assignment here at work. I’m in charge of USENET complaints and difficulties. Time to re-subscribe to some old newsgroups and do some testing. Hrm… I know I’ll be subscribing to alt.games.whitewolf… any other suggestions for good groups? I’d like a good Mac one, and a good Linux one for newbies like myself. By the time this quarter is done, I want to know NNTP inside and out.

I’m po’. I can’t afford the “or” at the end. Somehow, I’m going to make it down to the parental units’ house for Easter Sunday, and back again. Luckily, I do have some food at home, and have been successful in coming up with ideas for things to put n a stir fry.

Today after work, I’m working out with and then helping and move couches. I will be wearing my knee braces, no question.

I’d renew my blood pressure medication, but I don’t have the money for the copay. Oh, well, Eric will be at the Fortress on Monday, so I’ll be able to sell some old gaming stuff that I never use. Survival of those who can’t balance a checkbook when shiny iMac’s call out to them. Tee hee.

Gorillaz makes things calm.

I am currently running a background process that is debating how much I can expect others, namely my close friends, to uphold a similar, if not close to the same, morality system that I live by, and by what justification do I hold them to this. Subjective definitions of right and wrong (including the inherent disturbing nature of these being completely subjective) seem to be playing a role in this.

I’m starting to enjoy working out.

I had to leave Spiral last night when the booty dancers came in and started grinding to a live goth band. I… just… don’t… get… it.

How stupid is this: A user, who is -not- our customer, emails us. They are threatening to switch from our competitor, to our other competitor, who is actually owned by the first competitor. Because they can’t navigate off of OUR website. WTF?!

In summation, the Code Red tastes excellent this morning.