Privacy, Please?

I have no idea (once again) what the heck the title should be. Well, at the moment, I'm watching music vids on Yahoo. Hmmm... I feel... right now... as if I have no privacy anymore. Or at least a false definition of privacy.

A couple days ago, my mom finally got tired of my room, being messy and whatnot, so she cleaned it, despite my insistent disapproval. So, she went ahead and cleaned EVERYTHING. By the time she was out of my room, she was in a bad mood. Seriously bad mood. When I went to see her, I was in trouble for staying up 'till 3 in the morning, reading.

Me, of course, I was shocked. Because I was so sure, so sure, that no one saw the lamplight, no one suspected that I was still awake in my own little room. Well, that was that, and the next night, when I was about to go to sleep, my mom told me I had a 20 dollar bill in my little blue book on the little shelf above your desk. And then she left. I was...not shocked, a bit surprised that she would find my twenty which I had hidden in my journal for future stuff. But at that point, I was suddenly dragged back to reality. She looked in my journal. I mean, I wasn't sure she actually read it, since my twenty was hidden between the book cover and the first page, not somewhere inside it. But...sure enough...

I flashed on my lamp, took out my twenty and started reading through my "journal". I call it that because I'm not an insistent journal person. In fact, that book only had one small entry, dated around...2-3 months ago. When I read through the journal...I was suddenly drenched in a wave of ... Is horror the right word?? It seems too much of a word to use for this...small trifle. Back to the story. In the last couple sentences of that small entry was...

"...I stayed up to 3 reading East. So I'm deadbeat today, Excuse my handwriting and spelling. :)"

...Coincidence?? I think not. She practically quoted my book. Now you see, that the reasons I never have a true-to-life journal written in paper, because I know that it will be read. That, THAT stupid journal was the only time I had written something like that on paper. That and letters I write to my friends, but since they're long gone, I don't think that really counts. But that...just...disturbs me...by a lot... the fact that she's looking through my journals and everything... I think that I'll just write everything on here from now on. Just to be safe.

::Quote:: Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is courage to continue that counts. WINSTON CHURCHILL
::Song:: Face Down -- The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
::Mood:: Annoyed.