What's in a Cry?

"That which we call a rose, by any other name, would smell as sweet."
Juliet, from Romeo & Juliet, by Shakespeare. As if you didn't know.

Sometimes these mini crises occur in my family. Everyone becomes distraught, melodramatic, and overreactic. Today was such an occasion.

My responsibility today was to deliver myself and my sister back home so mother dearest could leave the house (along with the two little ones) in order to attend some book launch. The problem was, my sister did not feel like following the rules in attending her team practice (even though it is only walking team). Instead, she and her friends decided to play hookie and go nowhere else but good ol' McDonald's. First rule from the experienced to younger siblings: if the need to rebel presents itself, make it good. So we're sitting in the booth and the time passes for when we should have left. I'll skip a few words and just say that mother was mad, and dear Andri is now without money with which to attend Model UN. Granted, she has a debit card, but it's her own money.

This whole time, I'm protecting my sister from my mother by not admitting to what we were doing, and I end up crying over dishes like I do every time I get mildly upset with my mother. Often, it lasts much longer than it should (like my laughing at a joke) and provokes even more destressing thoughts of how much I hate my life.

You and I can both tell that this situation is not really a problem. Someone was late, someone will get reimbursed later (I hope), no problemo.

Yes, problemo.

Every time this happens I realize, atleast a part of me realizes, how unsuited I am to live in the adult world. I get upset way too easily, I am quick to enter a fight, and I let people walk all over me sometimes. These may seem oxymoronic, but no. I'm the person who brews and brews until I spew. Thank you.

But then, like all teens, I try to blame my woes on my parents. I start thinking that maybe it's my parents' faults. I've never been like this outside of my household, but I've never really lived anywhere else with anyone else. I spent five weeks at college, but that's really short-term compared to x amount of years with the same (for the most part) people. Maybe I'm just fed up with being the subordinate when I feel like I should be the superior. It's the root of all teen angst, besides lovers' quarrels. When we reach a certain age, we realize that we can live life without our parents, and so we don't want to.

Well, this has been a long post with no point really.

Point.