nothing to write home about.

i visited my mom on saturday. there wasn't much to talk about. i didn't plan on staying long. it might sound very bastardly of me, but i intended to make small talk, collect my money and leave. i feel that i did the right thing, though most of my friends would chide me on my lack of apathy.

most visits to my mother usually end in a grand argument that nobody ends up winning. i guess that i've got this incredibly mean streak, or my mother just agitates me. or maybe i just like arguing for the sake of arguing. she always claims to detect such hostility in me, but i suppose it's the way she puts it that makes me even more agitated.

it is my fault for being such a bad son. prior to my chinese new year visit, it'd been about a month since i'd seen her.

my father says she's a lonely woman. maybe she could get a cat.

the family history is too convoluted to talk about my mother's role in things. i've been witness to instances where she has acted like a nut. they were funny at the time, but in retrospect, i should've gathered that something was amiss.

everyone's so uptight.

i really should see my mother more, and it's really my fault for not doing so.

maybe if she got a cat.