"A gracious plenty. I like that".

I'm listening to Spring Awakening, and it's not even helping.

If you know me at all, you'll know that's a big deal.

It's kind of like Ghandi, when he fasted. Everything got better for him. Things got resolved.
CAN YOU IMAGINE IF THAT HADN'T WORKED?! HE WOULD'VE DIED OF STARVATION!

Now, nothing as extreme will happen to me.
But I can't handle this kind of shit right now!

In the past few months, I've had the horrible, horrible realization that my mom doesn't know what she's doing.
Like, as a mother.
It's like she's never done this before, this parenting thing.

::points to self:: Hellooooo, I was 16 once.
I mean, I wasn't as FUCKING PREPOSTEROUS AS THIS, but c'mon.
I did a little rebellion... right? Didn't I?
I dated a guy two years older than me...
I uh, uh, uh... procrastinated...
Yeah. I really didn't prepare her at all, did I?
I was never late for curfew, she always knew where I was, etc.

But get this.
This woman had me on a tight leash, for her.
She always had the numbers of where I was going to be, she like... had a drawn out agenda for my entire evening, etc.
It wasn't a "tight leash", by any NORMAL means, of course, but it still was for me.
I'm a spoiled rotten brat. A leash at all was pushing it for me.

Anyway.
She hasn't done any of these things for my brother.
None.
He says he's going somewhere, he goes, and then he comes back and has put 80 miles on the car and reveals he actually went somewhere ELSE,and she just says, "Don't do that".

OH MAN. I WOULD'VE HAD THE CAR TAKEN AWAY IN TWO HEARTBEATS.
And that was when Mom had money to compensate, for pete's sake.
She doesn't now.

What I'm leading up to is what happened last night.
Ricky's curfew is midnight on weekends.
Mom, for some unknown reason, took Nyquil a half hour before Ricky was supposed to be home.
Now... What? Where... Does that make any sense whatsoever?
Anyway.
He wasn't home by curfew.
We all called, we all texted, we called the police, you NAME IT.
Haha, then Mom proceeded to go to bed. So did Dad.
I stayed up until Ricky got home. At 4AM.

His claim? The car was dead. (Fact) He fell asleep. (Lie)
So. My first question? "Why didn't you call anyone when the car initially died? I always do."
His response was something like, "I figured we just 'overused' it, so we were gonna leave it and come back."

WHERE THE FUCK DOES THAT MAKE SENSE AT ALL OH MY GODDDDDDDD.

Ed had literally been into Slim's THAT MORNING.
Nothing was wrong with her. They did something. I swear, they did something.

Anyway.
He got home at 4AM.
No car. No call. Nothing.

And is he punished for it? Come on guys, you already know the answer.
THE ANSWER IS NO. FUCK.

Oh wait. Update. The car is fixed.

Oh, and remember that little post I had awhile ago of Dad freaking out on dudes?
Well, I write to this guy in prison, who is there for a legit reason and such. I've known him for years, I'm not going to stop being friends with him.
Sorry, I mean... really? My mom is a convicted felon, most of my dad's friends have been to prison, my dad has assaulted my mother with intention to kill, COME ON.
I'm really not in the boat to judge.

So yeah.
I get a letter from Andy today, from prison.
And Dad is all, "Who do you know in prison?"
And I said, "Um, a lot of people. Well, one less since October. He hung himself. Poor kid".
My dad's eyes were buggin' out, and he goes, "Why is this Andy in prison?"
So I told him.
And Dad goes, "...Why are you talking to him?"
I snatched the letter and said, "Dad, I'm a big girl, I've always made good decisions. He's harmless".

I have a feeling I'm going to get a lecture later.

MAN I CAN'T BELIEVE RICKY IS GOING UNPUNISHED FOR MISSING CURFEW BY FOUR HOURS AND I'M BEING REPRIMANDED FOR RECEIVING LETTERS.

I AM IN THE WORST MOOD EVER.

Eric Northman isn't even helping.