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So, shortly after I finished typing up my last entry, Lauren and the remaining people from the party came downstairs and helped me clean up the place -- emptying garbages, wiping the counters, folding laundry, putting away dishes, and sweeping. They're decent, I guess.
Cross-generational relations still fucks with my head, though. (I'm faintly annoyed that my birth year is included in "The MTV Generation", yet the whenever Wikipedia mentions a birth range in the article, 1985 seems to get lost -- it's like they're shoving us toward the Millenials. Not to mention that at least two times they say 'those born before 1985...' when defining the generation. I like "The Doom Generation" as a name, though...)
But it's happening again. Lauren has a whole fucking passel of friends over. My brother has one friend and her little dog over. We see which sibling is the fucking problem, eh? I doubt she'll be up at eight thirty to give me a ride to work, without me kicking her in the head (figuratively).
Mmph.
Cross-generational relations still fucks with my head, though. (I'm faintly annoyed that my birth year is included in "The MTV Generation", yet the whenever Wikipedia mentions a birth range in the article, 1985 seems to get lost -- it's like they're shoving us toward the Millenials. Not to mention that at least two times they say 'those born before 1985...' when defining the generation. I like "The Doom Generation" as a name, though...)
But it's happening again. Lauren has a whole fucking passel of friends over. My brother has one friend and her little dog over. We see which sibling is the fucking problem, eh? I doubt she'll be up at eight thirty to give me a ride to work, without me kicking her in the head (figuratively).
Mmph.