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[DL] long entry, part 2
Jun. 4th, 2003 01:14 pmAnd now to continue...
***
I had only read the beginning of an Encyclopaedia Britannica article, so I had my work cut out for me. However, Friday night was my step-mom's 50th birthday party (her actual birthday is today), so I didn't get to work Friday. On Saturday I was doing research, though not terribly effeciently. I told my mom at the end of Saturday evening that I had written 4 paragraphs, though in reality I hadn't started.
Sunday I started writing, though slowly. About every three hours when my mom asked me how far I was, I told her that I had finished another half page. She started getting P.O.d and told me to just BS it, but how can I BS something I'm not really ready to do? Anyways, my mom was insistent that I finish my paper by 10, at which time I had to go to bed, no exceptions. So... I started this journal entry (part 1, at least). I figured I could type other stuff until I had five pages, and then create the sound of printing out five pages, followed by the sight of me stuffing five pages into my backpack. Maybe that would get her off my case, and I could finish the paper after my parents had gone to bed.
In any case, Mom came downstairs and skimmed throgh the document, and got mad at me for writing about me breaking up with Patrick, having only two paragraphs, and, most of all, lying to her. (I'm tempted to say "What was I supposed to do? Tell you the truth?" The problem is, I don't know the answer...) She then told me I was "the most irresponsible person person [she] had ever, ever, ever met", and made me pack my stuff so Roger could take me to my dad's. So... Even if she later changes her mind, I think I'm disowned.
In some sense, it's a relief. Just as far as the weekend, because she was no longer breathing down my neck, but also in general. Things aren't any better. Even if it is my fault, things aren't any better... Do we (my mom and I) really need to deal with each other?
But it's still scary...
Well, after I got to my dad's I went straight upstairs and called Patrick. He cheered me up by telling me that in India (?), if a man's fiancee dies he has to have sex with her dead body. How in the world that managed to cheer me up, I don't know. I then talked to dad for a bit, and he set me up in his office so I could work on my paper. After he went to bed, I called Patrick for a little longer (he said I could call him on his cell), worked on the paper for maybe 15 minutes, then "took a nap"... ^^;;;
Laura made me turn my paper in. It was two paragraphs. One page. No thesis-supporting content. Works cited, but no footnotes. Whoo hoo! Any bets as to what my grade will be?
***
me <-- is hungry
me <-- has no lunch money
therefore
me <-- goes to off to mooch other peoples' lunches
*waves goodbye*
I'll write again tonight, I hope. Wish me luck!
(I still have lots to say, but the most important stuff is done with.)
I had only read the beginning of an Encyclopaedia Britannica article, so I had my work cut out for me. However, Friday night was my step-mom's 50th birthday party (her actual birthday is today), so I didn't get to work Friday. On Saturday I was doing research, though not terribly effeciently. I told my mom at the end of Saturday evening that I had written 4 paragraphs, though in reality I hadn't started.
Sunday I started writing, though slowly. About every three hours when my mom asked me how far I was, I told her that I had finished another half page. She started getting P.O.d and told me to just BS it, but how can I BS something I'm not really ready to do? Anyways, my mom was insistent that I finish my paper by 10, at which time I had to go to bed, no exceptions. So... I started this journal entry (part 1, at least). I figured I could type other stuff until I had five pages, and then create the sound of printing out five pages, followed by the sight of me stuffing five pages into my backpack. Maybe that would get her off my case, and I could finish the paper after my parents had gone to bed.
In any case, Mom came downstairs and skimmed throgh the document, and got mad at me for writing about me breaking up with Patrick, having only two paragraphs, and, most of all, lying to her. (I'm tempted to say "What was I supposed to do? Tell you the truth?" The problem is, I don't know the answer...) She then told me I was "the most irresponsible person person [she] had ever, ever, ever met", and made me pack my stuff so Roger could take me to my dad's. So... Even if she later changes her mind, I think I'm disowned.
In some sense, it's a relief. Just as far as the weekend, because she was no longer breathing down my neck, but also in general. Things aren't any better. Even if it is my fault, things aren't any better... Do we (my mom and I) really need to deal with each other?
But it's still scary...
Well, after I got to my dad's I went straight upstairs and called Patrick. He cheered me up by telling me that in India (?), if a man's fiancee dies he has to have sex with her dead body. How in the world that managed to cheer me up, I don't know. I then talked to dad for a bit, and he set me up in his office so I could work on my paper. After he went to bed, I called Patrick for a little longer (he said I could call him on his cell), worked on the paper for maybe 15 minutes, then "took a nap"... ^^;;;
Laura made me turn my paper in. It was two paragraphs. One page. No thesis-supporting content. Works cited, but no footnotes. Whoo hoo! Any bets as to what my grade will be?
me <-- is hungry
me <-- has no lunch money
therefore
me <-- goes to off to mooch other peoples' lunches
*waves goodbye*
I'll write again tonight, I hope. Wish me luck!
(I still have lots to say, but the most important stuff is done with.)