I've spent the past few days on vacation with my parents. Every year, we go to this artsy little beach town half an hour away from where we live. We play cards and eat a lot, and my dad sits on the balcolny of our little motel and stares at the ocean and smokes. This is the extent to which we ever go on vacation. However, the wierd thing is, this year I enjoyed it. I mean obviously it wasn't exciting, but it was generally pleasant, and I talked to my parents a lot and felt closer to them than usual. Especially my dad. It almost seemed like we were leaving the teenager/parent relationship and going more into the adult/parent relationship. I used to think that the adult/parent relationship happens because you move out and don't have to see them all the time anymore, but maybe it just happens when you stop being whiney. Anyway, the past few days have gone pretty well in that respect. Ooh, we also played twenty questions a lot, and it turns out that I am the twenty questions MASTER. I got Dracula in thirteen, Dave's mom in twelve, the tooth fairy in eight, and myself in FIVE. Boo ya.
Things got more interesting and a bit more unpleasant when I got home. So first I got Molly's email, and more or less freaked out. I never really got mad at her, but I did get quite embarassed and even a little paranoid that she wouldn't like me as much anymore after finding out about certain things. Namely: 1. The dream 2. The smoking 3. The fact that her religious beliefs bother me more than I let on 4. The crush on Nerdy McAwkward, and 5. How pathetic I was after getting dumped and for the entire month of March.
I'm glad I kept sexual refferences to a minimum, at least. (...Or at least on a moderate level.) I am especially glad that I never mentioned something else which I've been wanting to talk about for a while... Um, I think that's another entry. Like, probably a favorites entry.
Anyway, after reading through some of my older entries pretending to be her, I called her. She sounded extremely uncomfortable. We didn't talk about what was actually written at all. I kind of wanted to, but somehow I didn't seem to be able to. I pretty much just said, "So... You know everything about me now." "Yeah. It's wierd." We talked about random stuff for not too long and then I had to take another call. I'm afraid it's still going to be awkward.
Then Hattie called and invited me over. It kind of took me by surprise, but I said I'd come. I honestly didn't think she liked me, and I definately don't feel like I know her well enough for her to invite me to small get-togethers. The only other people there were Greg and Ani, Dave, Katie, and Toby. We watched a stupid movie and sat around and talked, and I felt pretty entertaining. It went pretty well, and nothing remotely exciting happened. There was even NO PDA. gasp.
However, while I was there, my parents were freaking out. I thought that Hattie's parents were going to be home, and they weren't. When we got there and my mom found out, she hesitated a little before letting me stay. Then I guess when she told my dad, he absolutely freaked out and was on the verge of driving to the Taylors' himself and picking me up. When my mom picked me up at the end, she made it very clear that both of them were upset and that the only reason they didn't come into the house and pick me up in the middle of the party was so as not to humiliate me. So then we had to have a "discussion" about it. It went better than most "discussions," but we still did end up arguing about NOTHING. (As in, I agreed with my mother, and she misinterpreted it and started threatening to wield power just for the sake of it if I argued any more, which I HATE. I mean, as long as I'm not being nasty about it, I should be allowed to SAY that I disagree with something, which I wan't even DOING.) So... I guess that adult/parent relationship thing is out the window. Over a rule that I only accidentally disobeyed and which is kind of irrational anyway. (I just assumed that the Taylors would be home when Hattie invited me. They're pretty strict, and besides that have no lives.)
See, now I'm being whiney. I can't figure out whose fault the parent/teenager relationship is. Is it you acting like a teenager, or is it the parent treating you like a teenager? I suppose either one could be a reaction to the other.
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