the drunken bible crusade.

YESTERDAY
you'd think that a parent run holiday party would be dull, uneventful. certainly not the source of mischif. and most definately not the source of mischif. and most definately not a reason to cry yourself to sleep. hell, wouldnt it seem like all of tha could potentiall come from leaving two troubled and confused home alone for like five hours [like steven and myself] would be the more likely cause? i think its ridiculously ironic that though we had many chances, absolutely nothing happened. We had a grand time, actuall. We cleaned up the kitchen, played mario kart for wii, and watched Batman [it was really creepy]. in fact, everything was completely fine until my parents got home. mother made a beeline for the bedroom, claiming headache [lightweight?!] but dad wasnt so lucky, since he still had to take steven home. i could smell the alcohol on him, but my first clue that he was utterly inebriated was that he said fuck. ive only heard him swear like once in my life...i just figured he didnt. or didnt around me and jackie, at least. he dropped steven off, and then asked me if anything bad happened. and since i didnt do anything wrong, i was feeling pretty confident about saying that everything was splendid. It was empowering, actually. But ironically, (again?!) It lasted about 30 seconds . He started to lecture ma about something that happened on Friday. We were playing Mario Kart and i got zapped or something and went from first to like last place only feet before the finish line. And being the sailor that i am, i said something resembling the GD word..."gahdahngit" or similar. I know i didnt straight up say it, because i barely cught myself. Of course, Jackie made a big deal about it. My mom just gave me a look and said, "watch your mouth." I figured it was done, buried. Apparently not. Dad's "talk" lasted for twenty minutes.

From his lecture, I have learned three valuable life lessons. More than that, probably. When its all said and done. First though, let me tells you what i know about alcohol. There are people that should drink, because they're charming and silly when they do so. And then theres the kind of the drunks that should be banned from drinking because they become faggy assholes when they're intoxicated. my dad is undoubtedly in the second catagory. my theory: the first group of people started drinking started drinking before they were twenty one, and therefore associate it with excitement. The second group denied themselves, and there you have it, bitter fools. Anyway, i really think that if i am a mean drunk, i wouldn't do it. My dad is, mil's dad is...jeez. i mean, he actually made me cry! With his nonsensical bullshit! Life lesson one: the sweet drink of the Gods makes people speak in tounges, and what is said under its influence, must be disregarded to a point. I picked up on that one when daddy started to contradict himself and babble about things that made no sense. Second: things that are brought before you in absurd ways, communicate the message the strongest. i think i learned something about myself during the talk...when i have to unscramble the words...what he is saying basically reads clearer, because he is saying exactly what his cloudy brain is saying. It wasn't pleasent, i dont plan on talking to him tomorrow, not after some of the things he said. I'm not as strong as id like to pretend, and he hit below the belt Plus, i respect(ed) him, so i'm inclined to take what he says to heart. And third: drinking is not as cool as i thought. Plain as that. DW is right, it's kinda dumb. If i render myself to such a state that i make myself into an unintelligible blubbery mess, whats the fun? It definitely knocked my trust for daddy down a notch, which makes me tear up as i am writing this. I thought he was solid, but i guess not. since he decided to go on a drunken bible crusade.

so im pretty upset, i want to call mil or somebody, but my phone is downstairs and so is my father.
love, kaatie
[partially scrolled by guest dj karrigan]