Monday, November 01, 2004


So, the good thing about this "Suburban Life" is that it's been a relatively drama-free zone...until now.

Tonight I had the most bizzare conversation with my mother. Who informed me that the biological father, whom I have never met, may or may not be dead. Yes, you did read that correctly.

My biological father left my mom before I was born. I've never known the man....he was an alcoholic and my mom gave him an ultimatum: her and the baby or the bottle. Since I've never met him, I guess you can figure out which one he choose.

I'm really not sure how I'm supposed to take this. My mom isn't frequently in touch with his family anymore but the last she heard through the grapevine, he died in a drunken stupor. And how does my mom bring this up? Oh, casually in conversation, of course. "I thought you knew!" "Didn't I tell you?" "Oh yeah, I heard that last winter"

Jesus H Christ.

How do I NOT get informed of this?

And, I thought I was doing pretty well to get through that conversation with my mom. So, I call Craig up in Canada thinking that at least my husband would be able to console me. Except when I call his house, his mom answers: he's over at the neighbor's house with his dad. So, I have an hour-plus long conversation with the mother-in-law that I never speak to (because she told Craig the day after our wedding that I had a personality disorder).

And when Craig finally gets home and I'm able to have a private word with him, I found out he's completely wasted...guess he doesn't deal with grieving well either. He tells me straight up that he's in no condition to have any sort of serious conversation with me since he's fighting his own battle with the dreaded bed spins.

So, let's sum up this evening, shall we?

My biological father may or may not be dead.
I had an hour long conversation with my mother.
I had another hour long conversation with my mother-in-law.
My husband is too drunk to talk to me.
So I must resort to sobbing incoherently on the phone with Alfredo...
Thus making Alf my surrogate husband for the evening.

Sorry, Alf, you had an opportunity to burn down the church before it was too late and missed the window of opportunity. Now, you're stuck with BOTH of us.

I'm seriously considering abandoning Craig at O'Hare tomorrow. Which would be much more vindictive if I didn't know that he'd find a way to get someone else to pick him up and take him out drinking some more...


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