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Thursday, November 28, 2002

Never thought I'd use the phrase Kafkaesque to describe a wednesday night with my familia.

MOOD: happy yet frightened

BACKGROUND: Rolling Stones "Her Satanic Majesty's Request"

It's almost midnight and I'm here drinking up a wonderful storm with my mom and dad. I decided it was best not to go to the bar tonight, considering my sickness. I also decided that if I was going to stay at home tonight, I was going to wage full frontal chemical warfare in my body against this sickness. So I went to the store, bought me the pills and the drinks and the vapo-rubs and the cough pills and the ointments and the teas and the medication and all that crap.

It's like f**king 'NAM up in this body, b*tch!

So I've got a stomache full of extra strength Robitussin pills, a cap and a half of NyQuill, some antibiotics, way too much vitamic C, and now I'm capping that off with a few beers with my crazy parents. My dad, my estranged father, is back for a few days.

Thank god for f-en turkey day, right?

My mom is near tears, which is pretty much usual for a night drinking with my family. Everyone who knows me personally knows that once my mother starts crying, it's time to leave. And it might me time for me to leave. And my dad's starting to get angry and beligerent, which is nothing new. When he drinks, he shuts himself off. Nothing new. Nothing special.

I've spent my entire life with these people to the point where I can recognize their patterns and live comfortably with them. I know my dad, in a few short minutes, will storm to bed. My mom will cry. They will storm off to bed, leaving me here by myself. Then, when they're in bed, they will speak nothing of the night's evens, wake up tomorrow morning, and pretend like none of this ever happened.

It sucks having to tuck in your parents. You know that?

But tright now, we're riding the shark, you know, on the cusp of the wave, and right now we're still all drinking happilly, hanging out, eating our steaks, listening to music, hanging out. My mom is occasionally getting teary-eyed (she can cry about anything when she's been drinking) and my dad is only occasionally being angry dad. But we're a family right in the here and now, drinking, laughing, having a blast.

We are all just superfriends, like Robin, Flash, and Aquaman.

Wild night. My dad drinking and angry. My mom drinking and crying. And me with a head full of NyQuill and alcahol, fading in and out, trying not to pass out.

But hey! At least my throat feels fine.

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