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05/10/2003 Entry: "still in computerless exile out here on the plains"
And now Mom has started in with the "Wal-Mart is hiring" bullshit.
I'm like, "Um, Mom...I'm still writing the magazine. I just have to go to the library now to get orders and do my word processing."
Oh. She replies. Oh.
She's convinced that this computer explosion is just a divine sign from GOD that I'm supposed to quit this silly notion of actually liking what I do (she's seen the checks, she knows it pays, so it's no longer a money argument, it's a respectability to her friends one, I think.), and get a REAL job that has a timeclock and middle management.
As far as I'm concerned, if I'm paying my half of everything, it doesn't matter if I'm selling crack to five year olds. None. Of. Her. Business to tell me what I can do with my life. I am -not- her.
And I promised myself a few months ago that I was done apologizing for the way I live my life. I may not have some fancy car or my very own trailer (like my sainted brother, who can do no wrong in her eyes), but I'm happy, and D and I are waiting until after the wedding to move in together. Respectability issues. (And the fact that there are still places out here, even in the year 2003, that will not rent to an unmarried couple. No, I'm not kidding. Any time now, Kevin Bacon will show up and release us from our inhibitions by dancing his way into our hearts or something.)
My internet timer's up, so I need to go. Downloaded all the orders for today and plan on using this time offline to do a lot of hand-work. It's an exciting direction for the zines, actually. Necessity being the mother of invention and all that. Can't wait to see where it goes.
------e
thinking that corn
is now a four-letter-word.
