So here I am. I have no life. I'm sitting on my bed, in my pajamas, with my mom's laptop, with my first finished banket (It's not so much a blanket as a really wonkily proportioned scarf), and I'm really ticked off because the stupid DVD player on the computer won't work, and dad's hogging the tv. I mean, seriously, I could have been mostly done with the movie by now, but noooooo dad just HAS to watch the freaking NBA All Star Game, and so instead of being mostly through a 90 minute movie by now, I am sitting here blogging because the DVD keeps skipping on here. I mean, yeah, my dad's going to give up the TV in five minutes. But still. In five minutes it will be five till 11, and in five minutes, instead of being at around 60 minutes into a movie, I'd have to start all over again where I left off, which is no fun at all. I mean, even though I'v practically memorized the movie, he completely ruined my impulse to watch it.
We had some friends from church over tonight, and so after watching Mamma Mia and all of the DVD extras, we started watching Ella Enchanted. Then they all had to leave, and I was about to finish watching Ella Enchanted, because even though we had only gotten aout half an hour in and I have it practically memorized I really wanted to finish it because I haven't seen it in years, but then dad just HAD to watch the game. Why are sports so important to men? I mean, yes, they are fun to watch on 8occasion, but why are men so addicted to watching it? I mean, at least girls tend to have some variation in what they watch.
Now dad has really gotten me into an anti-movie-watching mood. It's all his fault, too. Because HE was the one who wanted to watch the playoffs or allstar game or whatever the heck it is. I would have said a worse word, too, if I didn't know that my mom would one day read this. Man, why am I so restricted all the time? It's not fun. I hate it. I mean, generally, when you're really pissed, you want to yell and scream and cuss your rotten butt off, but noooooo your mom or whoever monitors you just has to monitor everything else too.
Why do they do that, anyway? I mean, what's the big deal about cussing? Seriously, it's not like someone is going to die because I yelled out a swear word. Nobody's going to get injured if someone is really freaked out and is cussing their head off. I mean, the only way someone is actually going to get hurt while cussing is if they're cussing their head off and using all their breath to cuss instead of using their breath to run away from their crazy stalker murderer person who has cornered them in a dark alley and has a gun pointed at their back and is about to pull the trigger on them.
And now I am REALLY in an anti-movie mood. I mean, I was perfectly happy to watch a movie half an hour ago. Half an hour ago I would have finished at a time that would have been okay. Alright, 11:30 isn't the greatest, but tomorrow's a holiday. But still. Why do adults have to come along at the very moment you actually start having the slightest bit of fun?
I mean, the plot was just getting going where I was in the movie.I know I'm being stupid and conceited and whatnot.
I know that dad really wanted to watch the all star game.
I know I can't have everything.
I know that life isn't fair.
But still, isn't it easier for life to try being nice?
I hate being the age I am.
Because your parents have only just started getting on your back about stuff.
And soon enough they're going to be getting even more on my back, whether I have a boyfriend or not.
My dad hates me. It's official.
Okay, he doesn't hate me.
But it ruddy well feels like it.
GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!
Why can't I have my annoyed teenager rants without feeling bad about it two seconds later? Why did God give me such an annoyingly attentive conscience? And why did God give me parents that restrict me so freaking much??????????
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
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