In The Doghouse


My Soap-Operatic Life


"From the moment I could talk, I was ordered to listen." Erica Jong
Well, it was an interesting night. At 11:30 I get a phone call from my mom . . . anyway, due to my egrigious sins in dating and using the Internet and talking to weirdoes (Dad's words, not mine), I am being forced to leave this weekend instead of doing the get-together. I am pissed about this, namely because I am really tired of how they act about certain things. When I'm around them I'm never sure of my age. Mental age, I mean- I get a lot of "You're 20 years old, you should be doing ____ by now!". On the one hand, they wish that I was working, driving, and not living at home. I think. On the other hand, they wish I'd never grown older and left. I don't know how I'm supposed to act. And I was also kinda annoyed that I had to send out e-mails saying "my mommy won't let me go out". For god sakes, when can I stop asking permission to do everything? If I leave the house for an hour to go to Anna's, I have to ask permission, get the third degree, and then call Mom when I arrive and/or leave. Okay, so I can't handle stuff like driving . . . or dating . . . but geez, I feel like such a baby when I have to say, "Let me go ask my mommy for permission."

And did I mention that she called back around midnight (I think) asking me to start packing to move out? I was up until 2 am doing that.

This is one of those times where I'm hoping my parents won't want to see this page, because if they ever do I will be in sooooo much trouble.

Anyway, on to the rest of the day. In my psych experiment, I found out (when dropping off samples) that apparently I don't do it right, and they REALLY didn't like my dropping off five at a time. Well, for crying out loud, my schedule doesn't work that way! It was extremely inconvenient and/or impossible for me to drop them off earlier. My God.

My French teacher brought in her husband today, which was entertaining because she was trying to have us guess who it was, but one chick and I already knew (we'd been in her office and seen the pictures), and I told another guy before class started. It was very funny.

And as for my English group meeting . . . well, hardly anyone showed up. Me, Briana (the one who organized it), her roommate Dale (not English), and their friend Daisy (who was there to meet a guy who didn't show up). So it was entertaining but short. Another one next week.

Also today, I was looking at some stuff in Open Pages. I've got the link below (starred entry) to what page the stuff was based on, but not the actual links (I completely forgot to write those down- but right now I'm feeling lazy and I've got to finish this quick). Anyway, they were on what things are good and bad in journals. Well, I've determined that mine SUCKS. To list the few I remember clearly, it has GIF's (which aren't well-liked by one chick- well, I don't have a scanner, and I hate waiting for regular pictures to load- so bite me), college freshman diaries are "boring- been there, done that" according to the older readers (1. Being a freshman isn't my fault, and 2. So don't read it. I'm not holding a gun to your head!), doesn't have a link to the next entry on each page, or a nice design. Well, as for design- I learned what HTML I know from a tutorial on the Web. It wasn't too great on design, and I wasn't too good with frames and tables and stuff anyway. And even if I knew how to do that stuff, frankly, I don't have the time. It takes me 1 1/2 hours (usually) to do a page when I use the Basic HTML editor, time I'd rather use to type than to mess with commands and funky design. I'm better at designing stuff that I can touch (i.e. clothes) than graphics and layout.

Well, I have got to go finish packing up my junk.

Links to other sites on the Web

*Look at bottom of page for the exact links*
Icon Bazaar (e-mail)
Animation Station (dog)


Page last updated: May 22, 1998.
Complaints can be sent to the address below, but don't expect replies until Tuesday. I'm going home, whoopee.
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© 1997 jdrutherford@ucdavis.edu


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