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This is gonna sound REALLY childish. In L. A. class, we've been talking about a book and a movie, whose main theme is "stand up for what you believe in." In the report we're supposed to write, we have to say something about how it influenced our thinking, or didn't influence it. Anyways, last night I made a stand.

It was 8 pm, and there was a really cool show coming on the SciFi channel. After that, at 9, King of Queens (one of the best sitcoms in the world) was coming on.

Mom came in the room, and told me to give her the remote. I said I wouldn't, because I was watching a show. So she said I can't monopolize the TV. So I told her that she was watching it all day long. Then she told me not to talk to her like that, and we got into a fight. Then she told me to go to bed, and I wouldn't get to watch TV that night, or get on the computer the next night, or watch TV. Whatever.

So I went into the bathroom. I noticed a laundry basket filled with freshly cleaned and folded clothes. Mom HATED it when I messed up her folded laundry, so I threw it all on the floor, and put the baskey over it, to make it look like the cats did it. Just in case.

I finished up getting ready, and I went upstairs quickly, without taking my birth control pill. That's the price you have to pay when you're making a stand. I sat in bed all night, thinking that she would march up the stairs and tell me that I couldn't have my friend over on Friday, or go to the dance. It wouldn't be a big loss anyways. But she never did.

This morning I got up, trying to avoid her. She never spoke to me, not even to ask if I was having hot lunch or cold lunch (she didn't even bother to MAKE my cold lunch, like she usually does), but I didn't care. I was having hot lunch anyways, and the less I have to talk to her, the better.

So while I was waiting for the bus (she never even said good-bye) I turned on the light in the entry way, and turned on the candle light she put in the window. It's those little things that really get her pissed.

I hope I don't have a deadly tornado waiting for me when I get home today. Hopefully I can still have my friend over and go to the dance. But she hasn't been talking to me, so I wouldn't know. I'll have to talk to her tonight to ask her about that.

There you go. An explination on how much of a two-year-old I really am.