Go to hell, you and the horse you rode in on.
Phew....life is insane. I now realize that people just like to make it difficult for me. If it is not people here, then it is my parents, or somebody else. Yeah yeah yeah, life is so tough for the little rich girl....not so much. I hate people who stereotype, although I am a very judgmental person and in my saying that I hate stereotypers i'm being a hypocrite. I don't like it though when people say that the only people that go here are rich spoiled kids who have nothing else better to do with their lives than to make others miserable. A lot of the people here are like that, but not all of them, so there shouldn't be a generalization. Anyhoo, this weekend was crazy, I got yelled at by my parents for going to see my best friend (who had a seizure the day before) because I didn't have permission to do that. The whole time they are yelling at me they are not being rational and then they get mad at me because i'm not, but how the hell i'm I supposed to know any differently? My mothers argument for the whole thing was that it was a holiday weekend and there was a lot of drinking going on....um hello it's freaking easter weekend if anything people are going to be better. And the other thing was I had to drive to Scottsdale to pick up my sister and they were okay with that (you know the possibility of me getting into an accident) because I had PERMISSION, so I asked them if they would have been made at me if I had died when I went to see Morgan because I didn't have permission but it was okay to die when I went to get Margaret because it saved them an extra trip and I have PERMISSION. What amazes me is that 9 time out of 10 when I come home on the weekends I go to see Morgan but they don't give me shit then. Then the other day I let Morgan borrow my car and they are pissed off about that because "what if she wrecked and then we will get sued." To bad the car is in my name and my trust fund pays for the insurance which is $500.00 a month. Wow I complain alot. Oh well i'm just pissed. Not to mention Anthony cracked two of his ribs. Another thing for me to worry about. Great. Don't get me started on the whole my parents and anthony thing, lets just put it this way, my dad calls him mud. Ha. Okay I have to go and do something I have a headache.
Molly
Molly