August 24th, 2001

running, bomb tech

not entirely sober

because i'm really afraid about my dad

[this is a panicked drunken entry; genunie concern but a little premature to panic.]

a little bit of congestive heart failture. my mom's email hit me in the middle of the visual basic class, and it didn't catch up with me that tha't s what she was saying until this evening when i was helping Neighbor clean out his aparmtment that the roommates from fuckwit trashed for him.

so i panicked basically.

and i think i'm going to take a short trip back to alaska and say hello and tell him that he can't die until he sees his youngest grandkid's tenth birthday.

and i'm not havking kids for a t least a nother five years.

and so sis and neighbor and alan decided that what i needed was chocolate milk with irish cream in it.

so that's what they gav e me.

and now i'm not snentirely sober.

and I really ought to do beable to do more than just smile in darksides's general direction. but i'm mnso not sober, they tell me, though i feel just a teeny bit disconeected, but honestly i feel as if i could focus and do that focus thing and be all ok.

they were laughing at the drunk thing. wtf's with that ?

but yeah, I guess i would be funny.

they should have breathalyzers online. not like I was oiulg dg o around and piss pepole of ffo for fun onlkine when drunk, but still. like this is my ebest wet writings. yeah. anyway, that wet should not be in there, but it's all I can do to touch tyhpe; the deliet key is beyon d me at the moment. see all the stxtra spaces and shit in there?

but anyway.

i miss ou, dave. gods.

anyway. (dreamsofsettlingdowngettingmarriedandgrandkidsformydadlikehealwayswanted)

slappsed myself about shawn not quite sure why oh yes.
the depression. the goddamn despression, it was the mention of pulp fiction that did it, i was drunk and pissed off and not drunk then but is hould bhave been and i wasnted to die, i wanted to die, and the only way to not die is to slap myself .

so i did.

they wante dto know what was wrong. i had to spell it out for them. the y don'd tre ad finger sign so i had to draw it in the air using the Force to help me. Sis read it of course after the first two leteters. shawn. yhes, it was shawn. fuckwit.

my father may be dying .

i want my family to meet my parents.

i want [sis] to meet m yf ather before it's too late.

it's like i've found a family with them. like it's going to be lifetime, like we're going to deal with elementary school and middle school and high school and college with nephew together as a family.

and i want them to meet my father.
running, bomb tech

Don't Panic

Basically, after I got a chance to vent, and after I was able to show Sis the phrase in the email that triggered my concern, I got a chance to explain to her what the original intent of me calling her off quietly and telling her that we'd better make our trip to Alaska for her to meet my dad fairly soon was all about.

Hearing from my mom that my dad has mild congestive heart failure, and that she's concerned for him, made me realize that perhaps he's going to die sooner than I think, and that I'd better get Sis to meet him while he's still in pretty good shape. She wants to meet him.

Hearing me say that we'd better take our trip to Alaska pretty soon so she could be sure and see my dad before he died, and seeing me all serious like I was, and worried, triggered her off, and she started making arrangements for me to hustle my ass to Alaska on basically the next flight out, not really giving me a chance to explain that my definition of "soon" was along the lines of "in about a year maybe rather than in about five years".

Hearing her panic, and hearing her tell me that if things with my dad were going like that, then I'd better get there NOW, no buts about it, especially when she started making plans for me to leave near-immediately....

Well, that triggered me off, and I got concerned, and had to go stand out on the porch and breathe until I was fit for human company again.

They proceeded to pour chocolate milk and Irish Cream into me... Alan did the mixing...

Sis came home, saw the pertinent line in the e-mail that I showed her, and proceeded to do a bit of research, and then grouched at me a bit for panicking. Damn near threw the empty plastic bowl that had held my jello at her. Dammit, if I'm trying to say something, let me have my say, even if it takes a while for me to phrase it, because if it's an issue that I feel strongly about, especially if it upsets me, I don't have my usual quick and easy words, and since she's used to me having quick and easy words, she tries to put words in my mouth, and since I can't get the words out in time, and since my Will is not as strong as hers...

...basically, any time she feels like it, she can squish me, and I'm still rather too influenceable by her.

I'm tired. Dead out of it. Somewhat tipsy. I think goodnight.
running, bomb tech

Quote of the Morning:

Random Former Wiccan Chick in Computer Lab: "So are you two together, or do you just like beating up on him?"
Darkside: "She just likes beating up on me."
Me: "He likes beating up on me too!"
Random Chick: "OK, good, that makes it more fair."
running, bomb tech


I made dinner last night... I went to class... when I returned, I had to head to Neighbor's house to clean up and clean out.

It was about midnight by the time I returned from that gathering of strange people. When we returned, I noticed that dinner, which had been ready and waiting since half past five, was still sitting on the stovetop and adjacent counter.

"Dude, weren't you going to put that away?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "I guess."

"Do you know how long that's been sitting out?!" Sis demanded in a tone of absolute horror. "Throw it out!"

"I was going to eat it!" Dude protested it.

"The rice should be OK," I said.

"It's your food poisoning," Sis said, "'cause I'm not touching it."

"You are such a bachelor," I said to Dude. "Go. Now. Find Tupperware. Put this away."

"I was getting around to it!"


Yeah, he's a bachelor, all right.