more macca (and dealing with my father)
11.27.02 @ 10:59 p.m.
Kind of fun, seeing the Macca again even if it's just on TV. Yaaah. Too much Heather for my taste, but I can live with it.
That's not what I want to talk about, but I had to type something while my parents were lingering around the computer. My dad is fucking drunk, and I hate it. The first sign that he was getting unpleasantly tipsy was his persistance in talking about existential religious matters. Fuck, like I want to talk about that. I really really don't. I tried, many times, to put him off politely. No good. Probably earlier when he was deliberately provoking me into arguments, I should have realized something. But I didn't, I fell for the provocation because I'm really fucking stressed out with NaNoWriMo (I've only written a few hundred words of Nano and it's only three days until I have to be done. I'm nearly 10,000 words behind!) and school (can anyone say twelve page paper due in a week?). Now he's just blatantly drunk.
He tells me that I can't have the Macca tape. I say "Fine, I'll copy it later." In a voice so slurred it's almost a cliche, he says "You can't do that." Like it's actually impossible for me to do so. I can, too. I've done it a bunch of times with things off TV etc. I plan to do it with the Monkees Daydream Believers pop-up video version when I send my extra Monkees tapes to Rachel. (I might give her the original. Mom becomes concerned that I'll become like Greg, her teaching partner who owns every version of Lord of the Rings on DVD.)
My head hurts. I blame Dad. And watching the Macca concert at high volume, though that was mostly Dad's doing, too. Bastard. I'm so frustrated with him. Well, not really, just disgusted. Mom thinks he's stressed about cooking Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow for a whole crew of people. Not like it isn't something he hasn't done ever year for... as long as I can remember, really.
Shit. I just typed a bunch of stuff and then accidentally lost it. I hate that. Mostly I was feeling sorry for myself because my brother never tells me anything. It hurts that I'm never let into Dorian's life anymore, but by now I should be numb to it. It shouldn't hurt because there was never a time where I really let into his life at all. What a brother. I never know what the hell is going on with him. See, the thing is that I find out (secondhand, as always) that Julia is pregnant. This is very early notice. She's supposedly due in August. It seems that it wasn't... planned. But Julia wants kids, or *sigh* so I hear. I thought Dorian really didn't. I don't know. I don't know anything anymore.
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
