Unlike my last posts, this one is going to be moderately light hearted. You can only fix yourself so much in one week. I'm going to give you a story about independence (I'll discuss it more in another blog). Anyways, as every teenager that has ever lived knows, your parents are both the bane of your existence and the light of you life. You simultaneously seek approval, yet desire the thought and experience of rebellion and pushing the limits. I have an incredibly "similar" relationship with my parents, in which we all three desire to be the alpha in the family, wanting to control every situation and follow our own rules. This is amazingly strenuous and makes even simple tasks like ordering food at a restaurant become beyond complicated. But back to the story. I was in America a few months ago with my parents, staying there over New Year's. Of course, the usual occurs as some irrelevant and tiny argument with my mother becomes a great big catastrophe in which both of us are defending our sides until the bitter end. It started with me being an annoying and arrogant teenager, as I am the majority of the time, and refusing to do something as simplistic as fold my laundry. Which further escalates into me screaming at her that "I don't have enough freedom and independence in this household", at which she swiftly replies "Then move out, no one is stopping you." This completely takes me by surprise but sounds great in the mood I am in, and I spend multiple minutes after storming out of her room figuring out the logistics of my potential new lodgings. I start by putting into Zoopla my desired locations of South Kensington or Mayfair. I however swiftly realise that with the £22.48 in my bank account I could just about afford 2 or 3 hours in a bike space in Croydon. With this in mind I search for a job. I thought maybe I could now make a life for myself like Leonardo Di Caprio in 'Catch Me if You Can', and Con my way through the world. What I discovered was that in reality my habits are too expensive and, with my current qualifications, making it as a cleaner at a low class fast food chain restaurant wouldn't suffice for my addiction to clothes and good food. With this realisation I scuttled back to my mother incredibly apologetic and as anyone's mother does, she forgave me. I don't quite know what the moral of this story is but I believe that it does just show that everyone makes mistakes and the parent-child relationship is incredibly hard, but stick in there. Yours Lovingly, Jamie