Well, she's gone.
We went to the state dance competition and came home. Jeanine and I went to pick Gabby and Cata up from BJs and spent about a half hour trying to find parking downtown the weekend of St Patrick's Day which was, as usual, impossible. I parked somewhere on Stark and we walked to Voodoo Donuts and paid for four donuts with Dad's money. We walked back to the car and the biggest fucktard I have ever seen did something I don't want to think about. While I fumed my sisters continued to laugh and talk about their win at the competition (they placed fourth) and call me ridiculous and tell me it was my fault, why was I so stupid to not see it coming.
We drove down Burnside and I took the Burnside bridge -- which I never do -- and got lost a little bit until I got my bearings. All four of us walked in laughing and talking at about 1:30. We were talking, settling down, recounting the hours, days, and weeks that had led up to the moment we were occupying.
And then the phone rang and we all knew that there was only one person who would call the home phone that far after 9pm. I was in my room when I heard the phone and walked in to the new room to find my sisters on the floor crying while my dad left the room to finish his conversation on the phone. I heard snatches of "what do we need to do?" and "do I need to come down tonight?" I sat trying to summon the appropriate feelings of loss and sorrow but all I could do was think, "Well, Dad will get off the phone in a minute and come in here and see all of my sisters crying their eyes out and I'm here trying so hard not to laugh." When he finally did come my mom came with him and after a second of making eye contact with my mom I snorted and smiled and said, completely deadpan, "There's a Barenaked Ladies song that goes, 'I'm the kind of guy who laughs at a funeral, can't understand what I mean? Well you soon will'" and Gabby joined in with "I have a tendency to wear my mind on my sleeve and I have a history of taking off my shirt."
Now I am putting off studying for a macro test I have to take tomorrow. I'd really rather just get out of my house and watch a movie at someone else's house.
We drove down Burnside and I took the Burnside bridge -- which I never do -- and got lost a little bit until I got my bearings. All four of us walked in laughing and talking at about 1:30. We were talking, settling down, recounting the hours, days, and weeks that had led up to the moment we were occupying.
And then the phone rang and we all knew that there was only one person who would call the home phone that far after 9pm. I was in my room when I heard the phone and walked in to the new room to find my sisters on the floor crying while my dad left the room to finish his conversation on the phone. I heard snatches of "what do we need to do?" and "do I need to come down tonight?" I sat trying to summon the appropriate feelings of loss and sorrow but all I could do was think, "Well, Dad will get off the phone in a minute and come in here and see all of my sisters crying their eyes out and I'm here trying so hard not to laugh." When he finally did come my mom came with him and after a second of making eye contact with my mom I snorted and smiled and said, completely deadpan, "There's a Barenaked Ladies song that goes, 'I'm the kind of guy who laughs at a funeral, can't understand what I mean? Well you soon will'" and Gabby joined in with "I have a tendency to wear my mind on my sleeve and I have a history of taking off my shirt."
Now I am putting off studying for a macro test I have to take tomorrow. I'd really rather just get out of my house and watch a movie at someone else's house.