i don't really feel like writing about redding, but i will say that i didn't know the deceased liked country music. and i'm not sure why i thought it would be a grand idea to get drunk before going to the service, but i did. i laughed, i cried, and i got really pissed off. note to world: suzy hated college, suzy hated being unhappy, and suzy didn't want to live because she was terrified of disappointing everyone. it's relatively simple.
i was hungover that evening.
i saw peter, while hungover, and that was bizarre as always. he just got out of rehab. oh. the great thing about peter is, he's always there. he's so fucking nice, which can be be monotonous, but he's the ideal yesman. i've known peter since my freshman year of high school, so that's, what, like 5 years or something? anyway. i wrote about him a lot last year, because i was a bitch and he was easy to pick on. the end.
and i saw katie for the first time in, what, like, years? since right around this time last year, actually, when i went to the bay area to pick up a pound of shrooms. this was a better visit, i think, and not just because she brought me the COOLEST pretty girls make graves poster.
and i saw joel on sunday, and i've seen him for a total of thirty minutes over the past six months. this should be remedied; alas, whenever i'm in redding i only catch him on his breaks from being a corporate whore at old navy (...this from the girl who worked at the gap). joel is, like, the best person ever. not in that he's a good person, because he can keep up with my cattiness, but in that he's hilarious and intelligent and fabulous and i'd be head over heels if he weren't like my little brother.
or something.
so my visit with my mom went well and we talked about things i won't even talk about in here, which is nice. i bought her lingerie for mother's day, which i thought was kind of weird, but oh well. she appreciated it, i think.
i think my dad was hungover when i went over there for brunch, but i have to ignore these sorts of things with him or else i just want to cry for the rest of my pitiful existence.
and one thing my mom and i discussed, which i will discuss in here, is that children of alcoholics fall for alcoholics in hopes that they will change the latter, hoping they'll be loved enough by someone who will stop self-destructive behavior for them.
and that the three main issues with aaron are: alcohol, trust, and ambition. my mom asked me what i was going to do about these. for example, what am i going to do when he starts drinking again?
...um...
what am i going to do when he has a lapse of judgement again?
....well, you see...
and who did all this research to get him into culinary school anyway?
he did! he did!
...but...i helped a little...
i don't ask for much (--as all my friends keel over laughing--)...just let me be young and in love and fuck up and i won't come crying to you when i do, i promise.