25 and Grounded.

The last time my dad and I had a ridiculous row like this most recent one, it was the summer of 2005; I had allowed my bathroom to become such a disaster the one could hardly find the sink (as I had been using it as a flower vase for the seeming lack of better options). My punishment? I arrived home one day to find my bathroom door securely fastened by a padlock.

Proof that time cannot heal all wounds.

Fast forward five years and not much has changed. Here is *roughly* how the most recent father-daughter duel went down last week:

"So, Daughter. When are you going to study for your nursing exam??" to which I replied "I'm studying tonight and all day tomorrow before I pick up (cousin) Lauren and drive up to Sacramento to have dinner with Grandma" and was promptly and brutally rebuffed with "You're grounded. Give me your car keys."

Haha, for real. Oh wait, you're serious... FOR REAL??? I am almost 25 years old. AND I was visiting a grandma- On WHAT planet does that happen??

Well, apparently this one because the next day I could be found sweating profusely, walking my happy ass through downtown Orinda to the library. Complete this image with the sneakers, glasses, ponytail, and backpack that I was rocking, replace the iPod in my hand with my old Tamagotchi, and you've gone back 14 years to Molly at her height of cool, circa 1996:

Parents that try to foster a child's individuality end up with school photos like this.

Isn't it just like family to check you right before your brand new strut explodes into a full blown swagger? When you're holding your head high- except when you need to shoot contemptuous looks at your shoulders as you brush that dirt off?

Fresh from Australia, I'd been feeling pretty proud of myself: I had survived, mistakes and all. On top of that, my life there was a simple one, far removed from the pressures and heartaches of home; it was easy to forget where and who I was. That was the most incredible, weightless feeling. And while my heart and thoughts become heavier each day as I slowly come back down to earth, that carefree invincibility has helped me to float through the summer months with relative ease...

translation: I have NOT been studying for the NCLEX; it has been 3 months and I have resisted getting a phone; I don't want to talk/see anyone– Life needed to pipe down because I was not ready for it to move on.

Aaand cue Papa Yee, always there to deliver that swift kick of reality- and by swift kick I mean Chuck Norris shows up and roundhouse kicks you back a decade and a half.

To sum up: I just got schooled by my dad and was grounded until I took my exam. The ban has since lifted but I think it shall unofficially remain in place because, simply put, he's right. However, the real take home message of this post is to my friends and family: I'm sorry I've been MIA and I love you all for sticking around.

I'm booting the test back one more month and the plan is to take it right before my birthday. So pass or fail, I'll speak to you all in... 34 days, 8 hours, 21 minutes, and 34 seconds. And pass or fail, I will be in dire need of a some booze n' tunes to go alone with my new groove. So whether you were born to boogie (like Jen) or you got your first dance lesson from Carlton Banks (like me), put your fun pants and your dancing shoes on come September because you all are invited to my birthday party :)

Much love,

Molly

And I wasn't kidding about my first dance lesson. Everything I need to know about social situations I learned from the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air... I just learned from the wrong character :)