...and now for the 3,000th post about a fight with my mom.

See, the weather lately has been ice cold. And windy as hell.

And for graduation, they're going to make us queue up in one building, and head to the other building. We don't get coats. Only the stupid robes. And only whatever we're wearing under them. Which believe me, I'm going to be layering under there.. But what am I going to do about pants? Because I know it's not going to be a smooth process. I'm going to be standing out there for awhile. And the wind's going to cut through dress pants like butter.

So I figure what do I care? How about jeans. Bad, bad, idea to mention this to my mom. To believe I have any say whatsoever on what I'm going to wear on my graduation day. "You'll look like a grub! I'll be so embarrassed! If you wear jeans, I'm not coming!" is basically a condensed version of the angry diatribe she gave me. I was like, "Hey, you're being a drama queen. Strangers won't even notice and who cares what they think anyway! This day's supposed to be about me, I should be comfortable and not have to freeze my ass off, don't be a jerk about it," but I know I'm going to give in anyway. It sucks. The whole duration of this arguement, I'm wearing four shirts and my winter coat (and this is not atypical behavior for me), so obviously I'm someone who's interested in warmth. But nothing. No sympathy whatsoever.

Happy frickin' graduation to me.