We've taken over the TV room in light of the semi-work we have to do the rest of the year. Cait, Leigh, Ilk, Carol and I mostly with Paul coming in from time to time when he eats and Matt from time to time to make random comments from the doorway.
We started The Wrestler again and The Reader & Marisa Tomei is hot, especially for a 40 year old. The annoying thing is, we've watched parts of these movies and they're so effing good, but they're on a usb and connected to our dvd player and part way through they started skipping and crap, so we gave up. Now I have to figure out how to finish all these movies I've half started.
Marvin (the penis) is growing.
What has my life come to these days?
I was on skype with my mom today, and she was telling me about my parents' trip to Vietnam and how proud my dad was of me. He talks a lot, I think he's a good bullshitter, and he's a proud man. He was telling the family about me, about how smart I was, about everything I was doing, and he exaggerated a lot. But mostly, it made me want to cry. Because this man that I've known and loved for most of my life, my dad, often makes me wish I never had the memories of another father. Makes me wish it was all a dream I somehow confused with truth. He's the complete opposite of my mother. She's always been the calculative one, paranoid, controlling, slightly uptight. My father though is often unselfishly kind to others, generous especially with money, and a hardworker. He'd always say, when he got older, all he needed was some friends, some beer, a pool table and his guitar.
I always hoped some of these things had rubbed off on me.
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