unpleasantness
I had a Dream Log: August 18, 2000:rather unpleasant dream this night, and waking up wasn't any better. Apparently, I had slept through the alarm clock, and I got woken up by an angry dad who wanted to know if I had watered the plants yet. Obviously not. He bitched a bit while I got up, and then we started to water the plants around the house. Very not fun - he kept on asking me if I was done yet, but I wasn't, and it was just not nice. I then had to run around the house getting ready - picking up socks, my watch, my black bag of toiletries, all while having someone fume in silence at me. Sigh, he's got reason to be angry at me in other ways but the fact that he takes it out on me for this is upsetting - one doesn't like seeing their parents be immature. We finally got in the car and took off for Balboa Island.
vacation dai-yo, wai wai
Took off on the highway down to Orange County, home of half the white blond Republicans in California judging on the people I see. Due to our slight delay traffic made its unpleasant appearance and we had to take a slight detour. Having a grumpy driver hardly leads to pleasant conversation, so I read Schrodinger's Cat for most of the way. The radio was tuned to some idiot - or so I felt until he came out with some interesting news about Walmart and the dangerous if not murderous nature of their shelving. I prefer capitalism to much else offered so far but sometimes... Definitely something to research. We rolled into the vacation nook. My mom looked somewhat stressed from dealing with five active teenage boys and happy to see us. The boys were obnoxious as ever, although David seemed somewhat calm for a kid who had been going through puberty-fueled irritability recently. Guess that's over with. I ended up crashing on the bed for a while and having a short dream in the sun about being confronted by parental units. Unfun. My dad headed out with the kids to take them to Hooters at their request, and I went out for dinner with my mom.
sun lowering into the sea
We walked over to the commercial strip of the island. She had scrip for a restaurant with decent food so we ate there. Emilio's had decent pasta and apparently wonderful seafood, although the prices were somewhat high. We walked home and had the kids burst in with tales from Hooters. Apparently Dennis Rodmann had shown up there, and it was his boat that was cruising Balboa Bay with Sexual Chocolate written so prominently on the bow. Why he'd be down in Orance County I don't know, but whatever. The kids got kicked out of the house for excessive flatulence and I helped my dad understand how to show his photos on the web for my brother's team. Explaining what a website is gets really annoying, even though I know he's got loads of knowledge I don't and probably never will. He finally saw the light. My attempts at making an effective webpage with thumbnails without the right tools and items really drove home how much longer work takes when you don't know the best way. I could do it in seconds back at home, but it'd take me an hour to do it by hand. I gave Tom a call around that time, and we shot the shit for a bit until he had to go off to pick stuff up from the pharmacy. He had some pretty unpleasant news about the DNC, noded in Los Angeles Democratic Convention 2000. He was pretty excited about it and the Cool it garnered, but upset at the downvote it recieved, so he wanted my opinion on it. I almost killed James for turning off DJ Shadow's preemptive strike, and I will kill his idiot friend Matt if he doesn't stop "being a DJ" by sliding the volume control or the mobile speakers around. We played charades after that, and I enjoy knowing my team won. After that, I sat down to read the news and for a loong stretch of quality E2 noding. That complete, it's time for bed.