I hate my life. So my friends came over today to have fun, and so we could work on that flash game that we've never worked on ever but always promised we would make. Predictably, they forgot something, and had to drive back home and here again (took an hour). After that, I load up Flash, show my friend some videos of interesting stuff we could do, try to discuss concepts like an art assets list, and my friend is like "well, go do it." Then my friends commence goofing off. Then my friends start talking about staying the night... and I realize I don't have permission from my parents for them to stay the night. I ask my parents, they say no. I tell my friends, and my friends immediately start packing up and grumble about the entire trip being a waste of time. Apparently, by "coming over" they mean "stay the night too!" So my friends sit around and be silly for a few hours, then leave.
And no, I can't just go with my friends because my mom won't let me. Specifically because I already made a deal with her concerning our family vacation, which I hate going to. I'm leaving the vacation two days early (she originally wanted me to stay four straight days, and miss a freaken' day of college) to do three days of homework in one day, yay. That's all she would give me. So we're going to drive for hours to the Pacific beach and stay at a house there. Which is a joke. Why? WE ARE GOING TO THE BEACH, IN WASHINGTON, IN FEBRUARY. Even worse, we always go with elderly family friends who my mom always complains about (but invites anyway) because they're going freaken' senile! And now, my brother and his wife (I don't like his wife) and my uncle and his autistic teenage son are going too. That cousin of mine is like a foot taller than me at age 14 (I'm 24) and his only mode of communication is clapping his hands and making odd noises. I don't mind him, but would rather not spend the weekend with him. And my older brother's schizophrenia has been flaring up real bad, so he's gonna be a problem no matter where we go. And you know what? I'd rather stay at home and do homework. The better I do on my homework, the more progressively skilled I"ll be at moving the (*&^& out.
I thought I had a normal family. Well mostly normal, maybe a little prudish. Now I'm wondering how we managed to turn into the Beverly Hillbillies ._.