short sheeted
September 22, 2003 � 6:49 p.m.

First Entry Today

Mood-Achy and sleepy

The Noose-Perfect Circle

"Mother is like the word "God" on the lips of children."-The Crow

Recurring thought-How the fuck did I get sick?

A classic "What the Fuck?!?!" moment-Getting all dressed up and going all the way to Philly to meet up with Jenny's friends that told us the wrong price to get into the club, Jenny had to pay 14$ for parking, I had to walk around in uncomfortable heels, and then the bitches decide not to even show up, or even bother to call us that they weren't coming.

I hate stupid people.

I really

REALLY

R-E-A-L-L-Y

DO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WEEKLY HOROSCOPE

Flying Air Aquarius

Yes, love is surely in the air now, with lots of Libra energies that match your own air sign, THEA. Current relationships have nuances and un-predictabilities, two things that are nothing new to adventurous Aquarians who become fascinated by unusual people. Here, however, it is wise to cautiously separate the hot air from more solid, not to mention humble, communications. You should enjoy attracting friends and lovers, while a Libra New Moon stimulates your air sign charms. Loyalty represents the showing of constant support, not just when the mood strikes. It's what your bosses and professional management are looking for now. It is also something you feel like expressing. Don't falter, because you are playing a competitive game with coworkers. The stadium contains watchful eyes on the best and brightest. That should be you. Financially, this isn't the time for big speculative investments, no matter how good they sound.

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The Sperm Donor has caused more havoc in our lives than we first realized or admitted.

Let me back up a bit.

Yesterday, Darryl and I traveled down the road to visit the parental units in Delaware. Funny thing about these treks is somehow, somewhere along the road brother dear and I hit some kind of time warp and we are haunted by our childhoods again. This usually consists of giggles and awe filled stories of the stupid shit we used to do chased by bitter memories of Momma and the fucked up shit she used to do but has conveniently "changed" in the record book of her mind or just straight up deleted. Somehow this time, however, we wound up talking about our real father, whom we disdainfully call the Sperm Donor.

My brother never really knew him. A little while after he was born, sperm donor joined the army and was A.W.O.L. for most of our childhood. Last night Darryl confessed that he used to look up to sperm donor and truly admired him, even though he never knew why he felt that way about a man he didn't know all that well.

Well I knew the asshole, and his desertion from our little regiment nearly destroyed me.

See, I was daddy's girl. He loved me more than he loved Darryl and he had no qualms with letting that be known. My mom had Darryl and I had daddy and everything was right in the world. I remember sitting next to him on the couch every Saturday morning. We would eat big bowls of cereal while watching the cartoons and then veg out the rest of the day eating pistachio nuts until our fingers and lips were red while watching Chinese fighting flicks, Godzilla, and then Star Trek re-runs. He would sit there and comment to me and laugh like I was a grown up, occasionally reaching over to tickle me or mock me in some way, and I was in heaven.

He was my daddy then. There wasn't a man stronger or more handsome, no comedian funnier, no warrior fiercer. My dad was the world as I knew it, and the sun only rose because he told it to. My dad was the man. To me, he was God.

Then he left us.

And every night I went down on my knees and prayed to daddy to come back to me and take me away from evil mommy and save me from all the self hating bullshit I would find myself doing.

Daddy, daddy, daddy please...please come back home to us! Please find us and come get me...please! I can't take it here anymore, daddy! I want to die, I want to die, I want to die!! Please daddy please...save me.

Save me...

Every night the same fucking prayer and every day the same disappointment. He never came. My hero, my savior...never came...never wrote...never called.

After years of absence he finally got in touch with us and saw us, and as angry as I was, I still melted and gushed when I saw him. I loved him still. He was still my daddy...I was still his baby girl. I had no choice but to forgive and embrace him again.

Then he left me again.

Since then, he has made sporadic appearances in our lives, giving advice where it's not asked for, injecting his opinion when it's not warranted, having the nerve to be angry when we didn't jump through hoops when we saw him. In and out of my life he came and went, damaging me more each time he left, forever distorting my idea of men, love, and marriage.

Fucking me up so bad that for most of my life I ran from men and commitment...until Cowboy. The main thing that drew me to Cowboy was the voracious way he loved and adored his daughter. When he spoke about her, his whole being would light up and the stories he told were so amazing and he was do detailed in describing her and regaling all of her quirkish mannerisms that even I fell in love with her without knowing or seeing her. I saw how he was a wonderful dad and I, being the smacked ass that I am, parlayed that into him being a wonderful man. I learned the hard way that just because a guy has a vast capacity to love and adore his children, it doesn't mean that he has that same capacity to love anyone else.

Being a great dad doesn't necessarily make you a great man, but abandoning your kids means you're not a man at all.

Darryl will be a great father because of the sperm donor, but his example of relationships caused Darryl to not be such a great man. He's growing though...and he's learning...and one day...Darryl will be a great man.

Something his father never was nor ever will be.

Darryl mentioned that when he went to sperm donor's deaconship, or whatever the hell it is party, that when he listed his life accomplishments and the timeline of his life, he didn't even mention us. He did not mention his kids or his ex wife at all. It is like we don't exist in that way to him. He sat there and totally skipped over us and our lives...and Darryl was sitting right there in the audience.

Darryl, the son that doesn't exist.

When he told me that, I wanted to cry. I thought, "He really doesn't give a shit about us at all." He didn't even MENTION the part of his life that we were included in. He completely erased us like we were nothing important.

Thea and Darryl...mistakes in the Matrix...delete and destroy.

Do you have any idea of what that feels like...how that fucks you up inside to know that the person that you revered in childhood...your father...your creator...doesn't even acknowledge the fact that you exist?

Do parents even know the power they have over their children? Do they see how their words and actions shape and mold their children into the adults that they become? Every fear, every insecurity, every attribute...stems from your parents...the blood that binds you to them and to your ancestors. Why do they not realize and appreciate the fact that their kids will be the only people to ever come into their lives and worship them like the gods of old?

Why doesn't that matter anymore? When did being a dedicated, attentive, and loving parent become pass�'?

It amazes me when I see a happy family anywhere. I sit and stare and I hate them instantly...thinking of how fake and hypocritical they are to be putting on such a show in public...completely unable to comprehend what it must be like to have a "mom", "dad", "brother", "sister", and a "dog". I sit and watch and hate and envy them to the point of tears.

I never had that. I will never know what that is like. I will understand the safety and security of a stable, "normal" family.

I will never be normal.

My dad does not acknowledge my existence.

Even though I honestly shouldn't give a fuck about how some dipshit dead beat feels about me...I do.

Knowing that he feels that way makes me want to disappear forever because knowing that makes it a billion times harder to even THINK about trusting a man or wanting a family.

That stupid mother fucker has fucked up my life in ways his spastic brain will never be able to comprehend, and we never did anything to deserve his disinterest...we never did a thing for him to take away his love.

My dad does not love me.

My life was created on a bed of lies.

I wish I knew how to change the sheets.