2003-06-10

April doesn't want to be drunk anymore

Just got back from another meeting with a long lost friend. I keep meeting up with people in bars and restaurants and there's always the "I haven't seen you in a while- let's do shots!" idea floating around. So, I have spent alot of time bumping into or tripping over or nearly impaling myself on things. Plus, I notice that when I'm drunk I start randomly slipping into the King's English or pulling Katherine Hepburns. I'm not British nor did I live in the Elizabethan era. There really is no excuse for this, but it keeps happening. It always something like:

"Having a good time, April?"

"Indeed I am, Sir. Why don't you wait here whilst I signal the barkeep for more libation."

And I keep making grandiose arm gestures. Then I'll annoy my dad and keep telling him, "Oh, Father, I love you. Really, I do" as Katherine Hepburn. I think I understand why people keep telling me to go to sleep when I've had a few. I once saw some tape of myself drunk. It looks like I'm trying to seem coherent and I just overshoot the mark. Well, I'm off beer, shots or mixed drinks at least till Thursday. Going to a wedding rehearsal dinner then- be wrong not to have a few, right? And I haven't seen these people in a while. Fine, I'm rationalizing it again. Whatever.

Only one week left of my Vacation- Courtesy of The Big Lie and I haven't seen Aunt Mimi or Colette or Daniel San and I've hardly had time with Evil Theresa. And everyone has to work so it's only night when I can see people. It just sucks.

I'm getting severely tempted to move back here. Getting to be around all this family is just too fun. I keep remembering how easy it was to find someone to hang and talk with at any time on any given night. In California, I live with Grandpop and there is other family near, but they go to bed early and I can't talk to them the way I want to-openly. So, I get lonely and call people all the time. I think my dad might wish I'd lose his number. See, he's a truckdriver and he'll be up at odd times driving. So I call him and babble on about the behind the scenes info on whatever new DVD I just got. Or I'll whine about my hair or my weight till he asks me if I have anything important to talk about (and I never do) or why I can't talk to a woman about some of this. I just want someone who won't criticize me the way my west coast family does.

Plus, it gets so hard living in The House of Extreme Cleanliness, Catholicism, and Criticism.

Seriously, I'm flawed. I know this. I just hate to have it pointed out so often. My east coast people just figure I am as I am and they gotta take me or leave me. My grandpop and uncle take me to task on my sloppiness (reasonable, yes), how I sit (they make me do it again), my perhaps overuse of "you know" at the end of a sentence, and the excessive amount of black clothing I own. That last one is just my taste. I'm not a witch, nor am I in a cult or really depressed. I just like black. I like the way it slims, I like the way it goes with anything, and I like the way I can dribble most foods and drinks on it and it won't stain. It's convenient and flattering. I think it's more sensible for me to have lots of black clothes then lots of pink, yellow, or electric blue. Don't certain colors go in and out of style anyway? Black is always okay. So, I'm never grossly out of style. There, Grandpop. Stop saying my wardrobe depresses you. You'll know I'm depressed when I start wearing canary.

Where was I? I never stay on track. Anyway, love black- not drinking... much. Made my point.