Curfew... say what???

Alas the curfews' have set in. While riding home with Pat today from seeing Fast Five for the SECOND time (which was just as good as the first), I get a text from my mother asking when I am going to be home and telling me not to say 1 a.m. again because that's too late. Seeing that I am 19, have no current job or other obligations, aced all my classes this past semester, and haven't been using my parents cars I have no idea why my father still insists on me being home ridiculously early. It's not like I have things to wake up for the next morning. If I did I would wake up for them. *Sighs* Somethings never change, and I'm thinking an over protective father is one of them.

I have been cleaning my room for the past few hours. Cleaning my room is a process. A process from which I am now taking a break from. Now as an English major I am well aware that I should not have ended that sentence with a preposition, however, as a college student home from the summer with an awfully large headache I do not wish to re-word.

Now back to that room cleaning... I not only have to pick up what is currently in my room but I also have to put all of my stuff that my mother conveniently moved into the hall back into my room. So you can appreciate the magnanimity of this task pictures are posted below. Sorry for the low quality, the flash on my phone is horrid. I tried to tell my mother that if she hadn't moved everything out of my room in the first place I wouldn't be getting yelled at to put it all back in, but she didn't feel like it was her fault as much as I did. Oh well...
My room:

 The stuff that needs to be put back in it thanks to mum

 My pride and joy: --I'm really impressed with myself and yes that's a window--

A bientot!