Ahh, to go back home for break. Is there anything that could be better? Oh, yeah.

Yeah, its nice to see everyone from school you haven't seen for a real long time. It feels nice to see my brothers again, but then they start beating each other up and the feeling fades. It was nice to see my parents again, but right after they say "hey son, nice to see you again," they tell me how I must wake up at a "reasonable" hour and then take my mom to work so that I have a vehicle to take my brother to his driving lessons that start at 9 a.m. Then my dad starts the truck for the drive home. And of course before that, my dad gripes about my interior decorating. He's not fond of my using old math and engineering assignments as carpeting I guess. Nor was he fond of the fact it looks like I haven't used my desk as a desk in two or three months because, well, I haven't. Dust bunnies, they breed like the real thing, I swear...

Then I get home and learn I have to go shopping the day after I get back. Two hours away in Merriville/Hobart. Yeah! I got 'em back though, green/blue/yellow striped shirt, camo pants, oh yeah, you better believe they don't go together. I'll send pictures home of me everyday I wear it. Mom complains about her lack of my pictures anyway. She'll get a thrill when she sees what she got in the e-mail.

Then I'm invited to a party/get-together thingy near Chicago, and my mom gets all flustered when she hears that its at a girl's house, and there will be other humans on the female side of the race there. Dear Lord! Of course, she completely forgets I'm less than eight feet from a girls floor the way the sledgehammer flies. I dunno why she didn't just take my housing application after I signed it and put Cary Quad, the all guy's dorm, as my first choice. Well, considering my mom reads this, I probably ought to personally mail my housing application this year. And seal it with super glue.

I tell my mom, hey, I'm dropping down to 15 meals a week (from 20) and she get really upset. Of course she is concerned I won't eat enough (seriously!), and that I'll fill up with Subway, Buffalo Wild Wings, and junk food. Well, that's what she says anyway. See, she worked for years at Purdue's dining halls, even after she graduated, and I'm sure the real reason is that she is afraid that all the workers will lose their jobs because I'm eating less. I'll eat Subway, Buffalo Wild Wings, and junk food either way, 20 meals or 15. The dang dining halls close at 8:30, so what's a hungry stud to do at 3 am? The only thing that will change will be the pace at which I corner the everlasting brownie market.

Later, I get a letter from Purdue saying that I qualified for the co-op program. A good thing indeed, its my back-up plan in case I have a lot of fun this semester too and lose my scholarships. However, kind mother points out that I have to nail down and make a commitment to what field of engineering I will be going into. She didn't laugh when I said "liberal arts." Guess I told her that one already. She simply can't be happy with the fact I narrowed down my major from Everythingunderthesun to Engineering. That there ranks high among my life accomplishments, actually deciding on a major. I'll probably roll some dice like I did when going from Everythingunderthesun to Engineering and hope I have better luck this time. She doesn't seem to understand that the reason I don't tell her what I intend to major in is because I don't know what I want to major in. In this instance, I'm not purposely keeping her in the dark.

My parents wonder why I can't wait to move back into Earhart.