It was so weird to think about how much time has passed since I've seen most of Dad's side of the family (I am not using our last name due to trying to stay somewhat anonymous... to anyone that reads this other than friends and family). Adam and E used to play all weekend long when we were younger. The only time they ever left the playroom was when they needed something to eat or drink. Wow... that was a long time ago.

I found out how very long ago it was when I was slapped in the face with reality. Adam smokes pot and drinks beer. He sure fits in with the male stereotype of Dad's side of the family. Ouch! Why? Why does have to be now? Why can't I live in innocence anymore? Why do I have to live this life now? Why can't I go back to when I had fun and "enjoyed" life? I guess it's because everyone must age. And with age comes responsibility. And with responsibility comes no fun. No happiness. No life.

Wow...that was grim. Ok... I had to take a break, but I'm back now. I hope I don't downward spiral again this entry. That's not fun to read again because I relive my entries when I reread them.

Okay.

Dennis brought up my first birthday. Actually this was much later in the day. He was pretty drunk by this point. Well, both him and Dad were. I was taking out some garbage from E's room and Dad and Dennis heard the beepy alarm thing (if you open either the house door or the back garage access door, the alarm beeps in both places) and Dennis waved me over.

I decided I wanted another Pepsi so I would have to go to the back garage to get one anyway. I went. That's when I noticed the sheer drunkenness! Blacgh! This is why I'm never going to drink. Period. The two of them were dancing. Both with beer in hand. Pathetic. Then Dennis grabbed my hand and twirled me around. I don't know what song was playing, but it was kinda country. So I pretended to line dance. The two of them were so drunk they were laughing and trying to imitate me. Pathetic.

Dad starts jitter-bug dancing (or that's the best way I can describe his cheesy bouncy tap-dancy step dance) and Dennis screams, "Look at that fucker!" Pathetic. I knew I had to grab my soda and go. Then Dennis grabs my hand again and twirls me again. Ok. This is getting uncomfortable. I wanna go. Then Dennis grabs me around the waist and lifts me up in a hugging-sorta spin. I'm really getting uncomfortable. Then he starts talking about how cute I used to be. I make a stupid mistake and ask why I'm not cute anymore. Then he says I'm still cute. This is what leads to the 1st birthday story.

... The song ends.

Short synapsis: I had a birthday cupcake and was sitting in my highchair. I kept laughing (with frosting all over my face) and then falling asleep. Dennis, Mom and Dad were there. They were laughing at me laughing and falling asleep. So apparently every time I woke up I started laughing and then I would nod off again.

After that story, I wanted to go. You never know what's gonna happen when Dennis is drunk. He gets too touchy-feely.

So I grab my soda and was thinking about heading out. It was cold in the garage and the music was too loud. I look around. On Dad's '58 Chevy, there are beer cans lined up down one of the fins. I started counting them. I would get to a number and then loose my place. That's how many were lined up. I finally got them all counted. Keep in mind it's only about 10pm and they'd probably started drinking in the early afternoon and they each had another beer in hand... but the total came to 23! For two men! Granted, we had dinner at about 3pm and they each only had one with dinner. I'm sure they didn't have more than 2 each before dinner. That's a shit-load of alcohol for each of them! Pathetic.

I guess I'm glad I saw that afterall. It just reaffirms myself that I'm not going to start drinking. Because once the Dad's-side-of-the-family start, they don't know when to stop. I don't wanna be like that. I do have some self-pride.

And we all know that alcohol is a depressant. I have enough on my own, thank you.

Carisa