Getting wings ... or not

wow. screw parental authority.
do you know where ALL my friends are right now? at a concert. having fun. partying. whatever you want to call it. and where am i? sitting at home blogging about how much it sucks that i can't go out, all because my mommy says that i have to stay home.

why do i have to stay home, you ask? in her words,
"i don't like the area where the concert is being held"
"you're too young to be doing that kind of thing"
"i don't feel comfortable with you being out so late"
"they're serving alcohol there"
"there are crazy people out there"

FUCK THAT SHIT, OKAY?! do you even know how depressing this is? it's depressing, let me tell you. i could be running around putting my face on right now. but no, i'm moping at home instead, still in my school uniform.

i think that people really underestimate the maturity of people my age. i'm not even a tween anymore, i'm not some pre-pubescent twelve year old, i'm already well into my teen years. so who's to say that i cant go to a stupid concert with a group of friends?
just because i'm going out downtown doesnt mean that i'm going to end up a non-virgin, cut into a thousand little pieces.

i'll bet everyone who read this 10 bucks that all my friends come home safe and sound. ten bucks. anyone up for it?