Catching up

Yes, I know, it's been god awful…I haven't blogged in almost two days now and I'm sure by now all of you (by all I mean the 3 people that might read this) are wondering what you've been missing? Well I will tell you.

Wednesday I worked until close at the Berg and…

This is just going to be boring. I'd rather tell you about the dream I had last night. Before I do that I need to give you a bit of back story.

My father died over three years ago. You may or may not know this, but I had what I felt was a very strong love/hate relationship with him. After he died I realized that really what I hated about him was all the things I hated about myself. We didn't really talk much. As a kid he was my favorite person to hang around with. I went with him every morning to the coffee shop in the summer; he drove me to school every morning (yes I was one of those spoiled kids that didn't have to ride the school bus); when the creeks would flood during summer storms we would drive and park dangerously close to the rising water and sit and watch.

That was when I was young. I had yet to form my own opinions on the world or the man that was my father. When he started drinking again we got into a lot of fights. I felt I had to protect my mom, and though he never did hit her (to my knowledge) I did my best to steer the verbal abuse away from my her and have it redirected towards me.

I remember one time when I got in to it with him over my choice of friend's, he didn't like the long haired rockers I hung around with. So I told him to fuck off, (the first and only time I ever said that to him) he chased me out the door, but once he realized he didn't have any shoes on, he had to run back inside and I managed to get my car started and leave the house before he could catch up.

I received a call from my sister later that night at my girlfriend's house in Columbia and she said that dad had called the cops and was reporting the car stolen. (how does one steal his own fucking car??)

….Oh and I almost forgot, apparently he also felt the need to inform the cops that I was gay. What do you do when your father "outs" you, especially when you're not fucking gay?!?!

Needless to say I had a lot of these types of drunken interactions with my father in my later teens and even early twenty's.

OK, so this is turning into one of Jay's diatribes (sorry jay), I will continue with part two tomorrow.

~Thedante