I phoned Dad. They're still working on the house. They're not gonna tear out my walls (damn! I wanted to repaint), but they DO have to rip out the entire ceiling of the house, since it can't be cleaned easily.

I told him that I've almost got my GED, and he asked what I'm gonna do afterward. I hadn't the heart to tell him that I'd like to take a very, very long walk down the road with very few material possessions with me. Dad rather disapproves of anything related to free-spiritdom and seems to count on me to be the Golden Child, the great hope for the next generation of WASP Republicanism. My brother was supposed to be that, too, but now he lives in the mountains in a small hippie town, playing music and working at Taco Bell.

And I'd like a life like Josh's. He lives in the middle of an area of splendid natural beauty; he expresses himself whenever he feels like it; he can go wherever he wants, anyway, anyhow, anywhere. It's true.

I want to go home with him when he comes to visit next week. But I can't--because I have to stay and keep an eye on Grandma after she has surgery in early November. Much as I love Grandma, I wish I could just go on on my own. I'm feeling like a bird in a cage, ramming against the bars and hoping for freedom, but to no avail. I want out!

In other news: Pete Townshend seems to like the name "Sally" a lot. It's mentioned in Baba O'Riley ("Sally, take my hand..."), I'm a Boy (one of the little girls is Sally Joy), Sally Simpson, and I think it's mentioned in another song, too. Maybe it's just one of those names that's nice and easy to sing about. Or something.