Let's talk about Spaceships...

I was sitting in my interview for the Stock Exchange, and realized I had been nodding and smiling and not paying attention to a damn word she was saying. She was telling me about the benefits, I think.

Oh my god, I'm still drunk .

Perhaps it's not good to go out drinking when you think your dad is going to die. But it was our fond farewell to Haley, though she was mostly hanging out with her work peeps. But sometimes the multiple reasons why I hate myself are hard to juggle, and last night I displayed as many as I apparently could. And I did it all with a smile on my face and a whiskey in my hand. God, I'm horrendous.

Dad's not going to die though. At least not today.

Still don't know how I feel about that.

It's just so weird how Freda and Dad kept mentioning how his almost-death might get in the way of their planned trip to Paris. You think? People think that it's just them being facetious. It's not. That's how they are. Sometimes I think they're pod people. Like when Abby shared with Freda all the Gruesome History of Old Dad, to which she replied, "So what? My first husband used to hit me, too."

Pod People. I swear.

And yet Amy is going to see him at the hospital today. Amy who swore she'd never speak to any of the parents again. Amy who says that Dad molested her (don't know how I feel about that one, either). Amy who still hasn't spoken to Mom, and I think it's killing her (Mom).

Our family is trench warfare in WWI.

I'm doing pretty well for still feeling kind of drunk at noon. Maybe something else is wrong. I feel all woozy. The interview went well, at least I'm good at faking attention (thank you theatre). I get paid today. That's good. I'm down to my high school weight. That's fun, too.

I am returning to Death Cab for Cutie now and then I am going to rehearsal and then I am going home and I am never leaving the house again. I'm going to be like the mom in What's Eating Gilbert Grape?--hopefully we won't need the crane.