Thinking Way Back to the First Drink

Several weeks ago, I didn't know what my earliest memory was. But somewhere around today I realized what it was. I was two years old, sitting on my dad's lap, taking sips of his beer, not surrepetitiously.

Memories like that, and my parents would be surprised to find out that I drink? Or hope I don't yet? They would also let me finish off their wine coolers when I was five or so. And then when I was 16 or so, we went to several wineries in Sonoma Valley and I sampled the wine along with them. Not to mention that I drink wine with them for special occasions, and not once have I been wasted off of one glass. Or even two. A little sleepy maybe. It was kind of strange the other day when my dad was talking about how his drinking habits have changed over the years, such as from hard liquor in his Navy years to mostly beer now, and he was talking like he just occasionally has a beer. Maybe, but I wouldn't define "occasionally" as "every day." Not that he's a big alcoholic or anything, but he still can't appear to anyone to be a teetotaler. He would probably not be thrilled to find out that I haven't waited until my 21st birthday to start drinking, but really, what else would one expect, given the way both my parents have treated alcohol throughout my life? Plus, they have taught me to be responsible about it.

(no subject)

MOTHERFUCKING PIECE OF SHIT!

I am FRESH OUT of PATIENCE. And I feel like biting someone. Hard. Preferably drawing blood.

Somehow, I don't think that trying to read someone's LiveJournal should make my computer fucking freeze. The page loaded fine, but then it did something funky and kept trying to load, or something, and I couldn't do anything else at all. So I restart the computer. THREE TIMES because the first two times the computer froze again mid-startup. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. And since my computer was in startup mode for far too long, I couldn't use my mp3 player, when there was nothing but SHIT on the radio.

The stupid things that invoke anger...

But then, I haven't been good and pissed off in a while. Mostly annoyed. Nothing to the point of wanting to scream, loudly.

(no subject)

Death, death, death, on a stick, stick, stick.

Is it crazy to sleep on one side of the bed and imagine that there's someone else on the other side?

I need to listen to some Fiona Apple. But this is a good song too.



P.S. Why the flying fuck does LJ insist on dating my Tuesday entries as Friday July 13th?

(no subject)

Why is it so fucking cold in my room? The window is even closed.

If I ever turn into a "hardcore" candy raver, shoot me. Please.

I think that I'll just go to bed now. Quit while I'm ahead. And I should get up relatively early so I can do things that must be done, a list of which I have somewhere.

Must write back to Lex later.

And guess what? This screwed up date thing STILL SUCKS.