There is nothing like being the pillar of goodness, the voice of authority, the mandate of morals. Actually, there is: cookies. But aside from cliche universal loves, people enjoy being in charge... unless you don't know what you're doing. Then you want to listen. When we aren't authority and we think we should be, we are loud in our protests and strong in our resistance. If you somehow can't get your mind around that, think about you (teenager?) versus your parents. It's not just a happy little debate, is it? Or really, aren't most of us humans revolting against our greatest mother? We don't even care if she's sending us warnings in hurricanes and earthquakes and disasters and death, we look the other way and get mad as a hatter. Anyway, the whole point of this authority thing is because I am volunteering at this place for autistic kids-- it's a Saturday, two hour thing. Most of them are pretty docile and willing, but some are like rabbits on crack (forgive me, I can find nothing else to compare it to). When you're handling them, you have to be friendly but firm. There can be no hesitation or leniency in your voice or face when you tell them to sit, stand, stop grabbing your arm, etc. They know if you're not sure, and they will take advantage of that. You gotta look them in square with the eye, all business and the like, and talk slow and steady. You must employ the same tactics when directing your own little bugger--- err, children.

Aughhhh... my father is getting a bit on my nerves. It's all because of grandpa (dad's side) and his stage III liver cancer. The whole family (my dad is one of 9 children) is in a frenzy, complete with random, all-day calls (which I suspect they all love). I mean, everyone loves family drama, and we haven't had one since my uncle cheate... umm... never mind. Also, my grandparents are very old (93 and 88), and of course, they're very frugal since they had to raise 9 effin' children through the Cultural Revolution, no doubt. So this funky combination has kind of make both of them a little... gaga, per se. Nutty as squirrel poo. I've always wanted to use that phrase. Not that I'm making fun of them. I expect that when I'm as old as them I'll be exactly the same. But this is making my dad very worried about what will happen when he get's older, so he keeps asking me where he will go, and stuff like that. And that makes ME think about what I'm gonna do when I get really old and I don't want to get old because hello, I like my brains. Maybe I should just die at an appropriately non-gaga age. My dad has also explained that nursing homes are like living in a rendezvous of death, cause all your neighbors drop dead one by one. Which leads me to believe that eventually they're either going to be living with my family or with hired help. I mean, of course I'd take them in, but I'd like to think that when I'm old, I'd still be feisty and independent and wouldn't want to rely on my own kids, but I'm only a teen. I have too much pride to let myself depend on them. Not so sure about my parents. My mom has made it pretty clear that I'm to stay near her for the rest of my life.

What I'm reading: Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver
What I'm doing: planning stuff for robotics flag