And as if that isn't enough to make me wanna crawl under a rock, I spoke to my brother Richard for the first time in 15 years today. Endless kudos to Stacy for that. It was his birthday, and it seems that with all the nights I've laid awake wondering about him, he doesn't even know I exist. That's really comforting. The strange thing is I remeber what it was like when I returned from Portland and was faced with family that were for most account strangers. I remember how frightening that was. And yet throught everything, all the bullshit, all the pain, all the times people said things in anger; hearing the sound in Richard's voice makes me so grateful that I know my father and my brothers and Stacy and I call them family. It's a strage and painful thing when you realize how import parsonal trial and misery can really be. For even in the worst of times, I wouldn't trade anything about my past with them. I love who I am and I owe them a lot of that. At this time the unthinkable is Richard. How must it be to hear this now? How does it feel to know you've been oblivious to so much concerning yourself? Other than that, I'm just hoping Michelle bursts into flames.
So my head hurts, I'm tired, and I gotta go to court in four hours for Celeste. I'm praying about this one, and that should say something. The only light note in all of this is seeing my friends. For one, thanks Andrew, I really appreciate it. Also, with all the supperficial, shiny, complex ways I try to turn a phrase, I am at a loss for words at how to thank Ryan and Aimee for being such incredible people. Now if they'd only learn to go to sleep in their own fucking bed, maybe I'd have a place to get some sleep.