long read
8:35 p.m. - 2004-02-23
My observation of the day: Remember when the men in the white coats used to come and take people away? You'd never hear from them again. They would make baskets someplace. Okay, what happened to that? Was that such a bad idea?
I went to the doctor today. I have sinus infection, an ear infection and walking pneumonia. He wouldn't give me a shot because he said I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight (I told him that tomorrow was really important at school.).
I wrote this Friday night: Tonight, I was burning some CDs because there is a cool teacher in my Spanish class who loaned me his to copy. I was sitting at my laptop which is setup at the bar right now. I had the patio door open.I decided to look up some words to a song that I was listening to while doing the CD project. I looked up from my dictionary to see this guy looking up at me from the parking lot. It�s the good guy. The one who is taken. I didn�t look away as soon as I usually do. I just looked at him, and he was looking up at me. He was getting in the car to go somewhere with his girlfriend. As I was looking at him, I felt this overwhelming sadness. It was knowing that if he ever left her, he wouldn�t be the guy I thought he was. He has to stay with her and stop looking up at me, because why is he looking up at me? Well, he could be incredibly nosy like I am. I just want to know what he thinks. I mean, I want to know and I don�t want to know. I like it the way it is. Part of me wants to tell him that I�m here all alone every Thursday night. The other part of me doesn�t ever want to even see him up close. He might not be as cute. Basically, anything that gets close to me gets ruined. Either that, or I just attract losers.
Now for my life story continued (because Erika cares): Okay, so my parents started having trouble when I was about 5 years old. At least, that�s when I started noticing the trouble. I do remember little things from when I was 4 like my dad falling down drunk and almost hitting his head on this chair. There were a lot of times when I think my dad was supposed to be at home when he was not. He would come home late and drunk and I think that he may have ruined a lot of plans. I think my mom started just making plans without him, though, because I hardly noticed it much. Then when we moved here, he wasn�t going to come. He was having a hard time being without us, though. He finally retired and moved to be with us. The problem was that he was retired from his job, and my mom was still doing hers (homemaker). I guess she didn�t like having to do everything including the yard while my dad slept in and did nothing. My brother had just graduated from high school as well. He was just hanging around the house and doing nothing. It was summer, I guess. He was also partying a lot...sometimes with my cousins who lived a street over. They were three brothers. I loved all three, and was crushed when they chose other women to marry. Two of them are now dead. Anyway, my mom told my dad that he either had to start helping around the house or get a job. He got a job. For a while, he was the school crossing guard. He worked the other side of the intersection so that I wouldn�t be embarrassed about it. I don�t think I would have been. Back then, I think crossing guards made about $2.75 an hour. Later he got a job at the naval base. My dad had a serious drinking problem. I didn�t know that back then. Now, I think about all the times that he was driving intoxicated and had the whole family in the car and I wonder how my mother tolerated that. One night a complete stranger brought him home because he was laying in the road singing. The next day, we had to go find his car. He worked at the navy base for many years before retiring from there as well. Most of the time, my dad just drank beer. Occasionally he would drink whiskey, I believe that was when he had the most trouble. I don�t know. He wasn�t nice when he was drunk. Sometimes he would be a sad drunk and ask why no one loved him. I remember being repulsed when he was drunk. I also remember him promising me over and over again that once he finished that 12 pack or that bottle of whiskey, he would quit for good. That is a sucky thing to promise your kid. I believed him every time, and was incredulous when he broke his promise...every time. When my brother started college, I was starting kindergarten. (Remember, I was the surprise baby.) He soon moved out and came by often to drop off his laundry. I was riding my Big Wheel down the street one day, and I passed this girl who was also riding her Big Wheel. We didn�t speak. You know how it is. We passed each other again. That�s when we realized we were in each other�s kindergarten class. There is nothing like having your best friend live right next door to you. We kicked ass in the three-legged race every field day until sixth grade. She turned into the neighborhood slut...eventually taking it county-wide. We went our separate ways. I hadn�t become a slut...yet. I grew up when it was safe to walk to the store to get bread and milk for your family. We stayed out very late. We began to play spin -the-bottle. Suddenly, I had to go in very early. I could only stay out if my parents could see me. So we stayed on my corner. It was sort of the middle for everyone else anyway. My first kiss was during spin-the-bottle. That guy went on to be my first everything. I had the same boyfriend from 7th grade until I was a senior in high school. (to be continued�)