11/28/2005 - 4:23 a.m. | breaking the bank and just breaking even

Subject: This past Wednesday, 11/23

Big plans for this week � I was going to get all caught up on entries, and here it is Thursday, and the only thing I�ve succeeded in doing is getting trashed pretty much every night. And considering that we are going to see my mom�s side of the family in less than an hour, chances are I�ll be drunk tonight, too! Damn you, alcohol. Why do you make everything so much more tolerable and entertaining?

Anyway, I�m home now, finally. Dragged things out as long as possible. Woke up late, recapped the previous evening for Kyle as well as possible, got some meds, got some gas, got stuck in retard traffic, and here we are. I don�t know what�s up with my mom; she seems in a worse mood than all of us. For instance, my dad had some sort of accident at work � there was a thing in his truck rolling around he did not know about; when he stopped, said rolling thing crashed out the back and would not gladly get back in, so he was stuck at work for much, much longer than expected. Now, you�d expect him to be pissed, but he came home in fairly good spirits. It was actually Mom who was all annoyed and short-tempered. True (as Shelly constantly CONSTANTLY says*), none of us are really excited by the prospect of our plans for the day, but Dad and I at least have our masochistic good cheer. Mom�s just pissy pissy, and that doesn�t really help anyone. Hopefully I did inherit some of my dad�s dauntlessness in the face of horrible, horrible luck (also genetic, I believe).

*I�m always afraid to point out stuff like this because I am afraid that, once my annoyance is discovered, efforts will be doubled to keep the trend alive. Which is why, for instance, I�ve never talked about the word �beeyotch� and its excessive overuse like 9 months ago.

So, we watched Rosemary�s Baby, which was weird 60�s hell. All these cheery suburbanites, �Hail Satan!� and lots of veiled sexism. Classic. And they didn�t even show the damn demon baby at the end. I would have loved to see the shitty troll puppet they might have tried to pass off. Justin is in town, so he and I were communicating back and forth about doing something. Unfortunately, movies were limited to 50 Cent�s acting debut and the Cheaper by the Dozen ripoff starring one of the Quaids. No thank you. Instead, we followed my mom�s constant prodding and went to a bar in Seneca to see Steve Sharp, on the condition that I would have infinity drinks. I did well to stick to my part of the bargain, although I kept thinking I was going to get brained for not ordering a bottle of light beer every time. �Redbull and vodka?� �FRUIT JUICE?!?!!� BAM. I was well tipsy by the end of the night, but not even close enough to be able to talk to Tanna, who was also there. She gained weight, which is gratifying for me, but it gave me no more courage than usual. Not to worry, though, �cause there were more than a few hot bitties around. Not that I�d ever speak to them anyway, but I was still sort of amused. They were all dressed up like the girls on campus, shiny sequins and stretchy fabrics and scant flashes of parts, but they happened to be sharing their partying space with a bunch of horrible old rednecks. Is this really their scene? That�s so strange.

�Sure is busy here,� Justin said. �What else is there to do besides drinking to forget the hell you�re in?� I said. Justin was not following this sage advice, and he was not having a pleasant time. We played some Vegas-style bowling (whatever that means) and we all tried our hand at big buck huntin�, but Justin is clearly not comfortable in any place concurrently occupied by his parents. It was sort of cute to watch Cecil try and connect in his own awkward masculine way, but Justin was not having much of it. I�ve well gotten over those sort of issues and probably bonded with Cecil more than he did, screaming, �HANK� for him as some sort of request� despite actually not knowing who Hank was.

I went up to the bar to buy drinks for a few people. �Can I have the other two IDs?� �Dude, listen. These are for my parents.� �Your parents?� �Yeah. Who would lie about being out with their parents?�

If I�ve learned one thing from Kyle over these years, it�s that letting a little flaw slip through can be quite charming in moderation. For instance, he is quite arrogant, but it only comes out as silly when he is drunk and is for some reason bragging about how good he is at online space hockey. Myself, I lack arrogance, but I have flaws enough, as you are no doubt aware, so I took to using them to my advantage. For instance, a little light thievery tends to win people over. Any time someone passed Justin something � a drink or some M&M�s � I would grab it first and down it. I don�t know why, but it works somehow, and somehow I remain lovable! Thanks, Kyle!

Of course, I wanted to take it a few steps further. To get to the toilets, you actually have to cross through the owner�s office, which is just filled with things that seemed like good scores while waiting for Fatty to take his awful dump. Rubber band ball (as I bounced it I tried to chat up some vaguely pretty girl of indiscriminate age) and a custom pool cue in its own sheath. I would like to have walked back wearing that damn thing, but of course my party limits my chaotic behavior.

My mom, a little sauced herself now, thank goodness, starts talking about how handsome I am, then trying to get Debbie to agree with her how handsome. Lord, I do not this sort of sympathy vote. I was staring at myself in the mirror today (Also, I think I might be getting gray hair, which is totally awesome� like Steve Martin! Without being totally unfunny!), and maybe I am sort of okay-looking. But if so, it is entirely in the nondescript, wouldn�t notice me unless I was talking to you (which I would never do) sort of way. Talking about it totally ruins the effect. I don�t have anything that makes me stand out handsome � no big muscles, no great features, no sort of image (pretty boy, punk, whatever) � but at least if we spoke, you probably wouldn�t be thinking up little descriptions you�d tell your friends later on. Or put into your diary.

And this one guy, he looked just like Mr. Clean if he was into S&M. And worse teeth.

See, stuff like that.

Anyway, I don�t know if it came from this talk or not (more likely, it came from the cheapo rum we were downing), but Mom and I started posing, turning our heads dramatically, sticking out asses, and always, always pursing the lips. That and swinging from random objects is why it is good to be drunk. I told Steve to learn some Kelly Clarkson. I alone thought this was very funny. On the way home I talked about my nasty masochistic cravings for fried fish. The same reason I occasionally masturbate to Paris Hilton, I guess. Who doesn�t want a little pain? It was a good episode of �Quantum Leap� but aren�t they all? HELP ME OUT HERE AL I slept on the couch under like six tiny blankets. On average my house here is about 7 degrees colder than the one down at school. Trust me, those seven are very noticeable.