Raise Your Glass If You Are Wrong In All The Right Ways (do annual fights with the rents' count?)

        In movies, after the glorious apex and climax, an inspirational song resounds as all the ruffled edges are solved and parallel plots are oriented with each other. But, in life, nothing ever ends so smooth-edged-ly and picturesquely. No, life is not ideal, and that is where My Story begins.
        I am a mere teenage girl with such fantasies as the next, only hoping to be relieved of these horribly tensioned and agonizing juvenile years as soon as possible. Today, my parents and I shared another brutal vilification. After the short-winded but slicing remarks, and my-parents-would-not-even-compromise culmination, I expectantly waited to hear the dandy, life-is-wonderful song in the background. Yet, no music, except the fridge door slamming in melody with the microwave's resonance. Departing to my room with fleeting contentedness of balmy pumpkin bread in my stomach, I was in search of the song to conclude the ardor of this afternoon.
        Tuning my radio from the reckless rock through oldies and country ballads, I landed pathetically on the closest song, I Gotta Feeling by the Black Eyed Peas [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0MrqkiHWCnM]. The song, though acutely distant from a compelling carol, gifted me with the disposition to create this blog. Haste-fully completing the prerequisite steps to write in the blog, I am lead to this point in time. All the thoughts in my mind are paved in response to the one shadowing, bully-on-the-playground, recondite consideration: If Life Were similar to a Movie, what, aside from my parents' and my previous debacle, would be disparate?