Wine and food

For a number of years, the California Grape and Gourmet has been a family event. Well, at least my father has seen it as being a family event. I have not always been able to go due to work conflicts. But this year? Since I'm not working, I decided it was finally time for me to get my butt from in front of the TV. (After Monday, I did leave home briefly on Wednesday to get cigarettes.) And I also have all those new cute clothes. Seems a shame to have them sitting in the closet, taunting me. And the best part of it all? I would't have to do the drive to Sack of Tomatoes. Instead I was going to catch a ride with Mom and Dad. (In case you're a newer reader, Mom and Dad are not the people who gave birth to me. I like to think of them as my real parents.) But then I got a call from Mom on Thursday morning. Apparently Dad did not want to go after all. Not that I was surprised. Dad rarely likes to wander too far from his jazz collection and Stoli. Oh yeah, and the pipe collection.

It was just as well. I was not really feeling like going at that point anyway. My father invited me after the fact -- per usual. He was concerned that I was not getting out of the house enough. I asked him if he had selected a date that he would be in the Bay for our combo Father's Day/my birthday dinner. Now let's get real. The only reason why this dinner is on the list is because of the first item -- Father's Day. This year I was returning from Kate's wedding on Father's Day. Normally I would have been in Sacramento. My birthday? I have come to expect a check from my father for my birthday. For too many years to count, he has always been out of town for my birthday. He always says that he owes me dinner. Of course, if I want to claim this dinner, then I more than likely have to drive to Sacramento. I now let that comment go in one ear and out the other. Well, I did in the past. This year I have lots of free time on my hands so that I can stew in it all and get angry. My father says that he loves me as I am but then he pulls crap like this and I can't help but think that he is still trying to turn me into the kind of person he thinks I should be. See? Just as well I didn't attend the event. Because I've been in a crappy mood all of this week.

Once more I had visions of cutting my father out of my life. Our relationship has been precarious since my parents' divorce. I realized that part of the reason why I was hoping to hear from my old job soon was because then I'd probably never have to ask my father for money again. Because that has been the basis of our relationship. My occasional need for additional funds. I don't know if he realizes this. Probably not. Often I do as he has requested because I am afraid that the money will stop if I don't. Without this fear, then I wouldn't have to play nice when I'm not necessarily in the mood to do so.

Last week was a feeling of being stir crazy. This week has been plain, unadulterated depression and self-pity. I did see last night as a possible end to this feeling. I mean I was able to sit down with my Vanity Fair Africa issue and to read a couple more articles. Maybe it wasn't the best reading choice because afterward I was incensed at world affairs. So much so that I temporarily forgot my self-pity. So maybe it was a good thing after all.

When I feel like this, I have to exhibit extreme self-control. Because at times like this, I feel the urge to call folks I know that I really shouldn't call. My first was to call the last Boy. Did he even have a name? I don't think so. Probably for the best in the long run. This week was so bad that I even thought of calling Musician Boy. Because I want to experience that scary personality once more. In a pinch I can always send text messages to Retail Boy. Because he is still completely infatuated with me. And no longer lives within walking distance. I never lost my mind enough to even think of calling Sports Guy though. After running into him a couple of months ago, I know that this would be a completely bad idea. Because a couple of months ago, he seems to have forgotten how I threatened to take out a restraining order against his ass. Luckily I have been able to fight these urges. Sorry to the rest of you whom I might have bugged with my incessant phone calls. I just needed to hear a voice other than the TV.

And yeah, I'm sure it's been depression. Because even the thought of crawling up from in front of the TV to go a few blocks for cigarettes seemed overwhelming. I'd think about it and then roll back over for a nap. Then I'd finally make it out, like yesterday, and would proceed to suck down half a pack in something like two hours. By midnight that first pack of smokes I had bought was practically gone. I only smoke like that when I'm depressed, stressed out, or partying my butt off. (Remember how I said that smoking is an emotional need for me? It's part of my way of self-medicating. It's also part of my proof that I have an addictive personality. For this reason, I am thankful that I just said "no" throughout the 80s. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here today. I just worry about the potentially hurtful things that I could say when I'm in this kind of mood. Because I know how to go for the jugular. And after a couple of drinks, I can get painfully honest.) There was also that telltale sign of unexpected crying fits throughout the day yesterday. The tears proved to me that I really should not be out in the general public. If I'm feeling bad enough to cry, then I am likely to say or do things to make others feel just as bad as I do. So contrary to who I am as a person. So once again, my apologies to all whom I may have blown off. It was in your best interest that I did this. I have come to the conclusion that I just don't know how to deal with not working for extended periods of time. Work is my world.

When I did head out yesterday, I immediately ran into a former coworker who was shopping for a new bicycle. Later in the evening I received a call from another former coworker. Turns out that around the same time that I had been out, she had been drinking with classmates. But she didn't have my phone number with her. We almost crossed paths in that time.

Today I have to take Boris back to the vet's since they didn't finish all of his shots when they had him there all day last week. Please give me the strength to not bitch slap the receptionist. Because that's the kind of mood I'm in these days.

Cat update:

Last night I mostly listened to dance music. But I did slip back into the 70s. This time it was the late 70s -- as in Elvis Costello and the Attractions, the Cars, At one point late in the evening, I decided that I needed more juice. Boris, idiot that he is, thought that I was going to feed him more food. As I said previously, I have this way of making up songs to fit the mood.

Shots, dun-duh-duh-duh
Shots, dun-duh-duh-duh
Shots
We're gonna get our shots on.

Well that's as close as I can remember it. Boris took this as a sign that there would not be anymore food than what was already out there.


Like this fat ass needs anymore food. He's not even two. And he doesn't seem to understand that he is a perfect pear.