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Mother's Day

Let me just begin by saying I know my family is getting more fucked up and
weird as time goes by. When I woke up on Mother's Day I hade no clue where
the day was going to take me, I probably would have stayed in bed longer. My
Mom really isn't doing too well. She seems like a frail old woman in her
eighties instead of the spry 50's woman I know. Her personality has also
been changed by the steroids she is taking. My normal high stung
non-assertive mother has been replace by a demanding, commanding, Assertive
woman who has the attention span of a gnat and you would swear was on speed.
It's very unsettling. I don't know how my father is able to handle the
dramatic changes in her. She also hallucinates. She hears organ music
whenever it's too quiet. She was going to scream a the neighbor girl for
blasting organ music all night long every night but, my father kept saying
he never heard it. So she put in ear plugs and wouldn't you know it... It
was louder. She has since learned how to make the organ music play song she
wants to hear. I don't know about you but I think of organs to be the
creepiest instrument with an awful lot of overzealous god association. I
suggested that she listens to her beloved Enya when she is trying to go to
sleep.

My brother, oh my brother, dear brother, what a pain in the ass my drunken
brother is. I cannot tell you the last time I saw my brother sober. I can't
tell you because I can't remember that many years back. It amazes me how he
can still be alive after the amount of drinking he does, not to mention what
he drinks. He started off yesterday with Seven & Seven. By the time I
started drinking, I think because I deep down knew I was going to need one,
I had ordered a Seven and Seven but only got a seven. He apparently poured
me the Seagram's then himself picked up some 7-Up and then put it back down
after saying something and then added some Seagram's to the Seagram's. While
I just about spit it out, he didn't seem to notice. After he finished off
all the Seven he finished off my Smirnoff Vodka, moved on to my Coconut
Bacardi and then on to something else my friend Wendi described as "Windex."
If any of you ever wanted to know what cooking Sherry tastes like, it has
apparently been described as Windex. My brother drank half a bottle.

As you can guess my brother was in rare form, well actually he wasn't that
is what drives me mad the most. My brother used to be really funny, he would
be drunk as say stupid things at it was entertaining, you could tease him
about it the next day when he sobered up an everything was good. No though
he is just a pain in the ass who constantly is saying very in appropriate
things. He needs to be the center of attention. It does not matter if it is
positive or negative. Before I go into what happened at dinner and after
here is the newest "Mike story"

Mike was out drinking with his friends and got more drunk than usual, when
he came home (read: probably drove home) he forgot to close the front door
and passed out before he made it to his bed. His roommate Markey yelled at
him the next morning because my brother needs to keep the temperature in the
60's and they live in Phoenix and as you can guess the AC was running all
night long trying to cool down the desert. Markey has a black cat named Boo.
Normally Boo knows to stay out of my brothers room, he is allergic to cats
as screams an yells at the cat anytime she comes in his room. But for Five
days the cat was coming in his room and laying on his bed. For five days he
was yelling at his roommate. For Five days Markey was claiming that he had
locked his cat in his room all day. On that fifth day. My brother came home
from the bar and went into his room. There on his bed was the cat. He
started to scream. He says he started to spray the cat with Windex. I choose
not to believe this, it's too awful. Markey was sitting in his room playing
PlayStation when he heard my brother kicking up his fuss. He was sitting
next to his cat. The look on his face must have been priceless. He thought
my brother was "detoxing," too which my brother happily replies, "how could
I be detoxing, I just came home from the bar!" So my brother walks into
Markey's room to yell at him about his cat and stops in his tracks seeing
the cat sitting next to Markey. He apologizes and walks back to his room.
The cat is on his bed. He turns, He say, "Markey, is your cat still in your
room? Cause he's in my room too." Markey walks into my brother's room, see
the black cat and say, "Who's cat is that?" The cat had been trapped in
their house for FIVE days! Five days without food, without a water dish,
without a litter box and was probably sprayed with Windex. They let the cat
out and found out the poor owner of the cat was frantic about her cat going
missing for almost a week. She was sure he had been eaten by coyotes. I just
hope she didn't notice her cat smelled like Windex.

I heard this story at least four times on Mothers day. Sometimes with the
Windex bit left out, I give me hope that he can't tell my grandmother that
he sprayed a cat with Windex. The sheer amount of other inappropriate things
he said throughout the day amazed me. At one point during our Mother's Day
Dinner my brother said the following."


What are talking about, I don't need to wear a condom unless I having sex
with a gay person, They are the ones with AIDS. (I know he was just saying
this to get my Aunt Lex's Goat- Which he did. He got her so good it ended
coming back at me. She went on a rampage. She was trying to praise me, I
think. What she really accomplished was giving my dad a heart-attack,
shocking my mother and causing me to turn the brightest red skin can turn.

"I can't trust you Michael," she said, "I can trust Eric. He came home from
my house to get condoms so he could have sex with Deric." My father who was in the kitchen clutched his chest then ran to close the front door. I have no idea what my moms reaction was but I know I stopped breathing for at least a minute. Deric was not a shinning example of good Judgment. I had always hoped my parents never knew what all went on with Deric. Maybe I will tell you latter why, just know I was MORTIFIED. And the evening got worse from there. I learned things about People/ Friends/ Family that was really hard to hear. I supported the people who needed support, listened to those that needed to talk, and held back with the people who needed to be slapped. Let me tell you my had would be a bloody pulp if I hadn't.

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Comments

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
knowyermonkey
May. 13th, 2003 08:28 am (UTC)
stories such as this help me to remember why i keep a safe distance from my relatives
you have my sympathy...it sounds emotionally draining

*the cat story gave me a laugh though
( 1 comment — Leave a comment )