Funerals Suck and Justin Rocks!

So today is a new day, but you know that already.

Today is Amanda's father's funeral. It makes me miss my dad. I still plan on going to lay on top of his grave and just crying for about an hour. You'd have no idea how much you'll miss some one until they are no longer around to hold you when you just need to be held. I could talk hours about my own dad; I have a lot to say about him. He was a good person, some of the time, and a bad person a lot of the time. It's what one might expect with an abusive alcoholic father. I wrongfully wished him gone for a long time. I had always assumed that his drinking and desire to be "outta his mind" were due to the fact he was unhappy with his life, unhappy with his family. He degraded me often, so I had also therefore assumed, he didn't want me around. I knew his alcoholism was a disease, something he couldn't quit. It took me a really long time to know there was a difference though. The sober guy that was my daddy was the coolest man on the face of the planet. He was funny, smart, and loved music. We would rock out all the time together. We listened to everything! When I was small and we would be travelling by car, he carried me up the apartment stairs when I fell asleep from the ride. When I was upset, he'd let me curl up in a ball in his lap and he would just hold me. Those are the things I really miss. But what I guess I'm really getting around to talking about is the funeral, not really my dad.

So this funeral, will be a Catholic service at some little church in the middle of Nowhere, Illinois. Last night was the visitation. I really loathe that part. People go and look at a dead body to see what the person, if they were still alive, might look like. I have an aversion to dead bodies for one. Secondly, I don't want to remember or see what some one would have looked like alive if they weren't dead. I want to remember the good things. When I think of dad, I think of the dead version of him, in the casket so that when you looked just right, he was smiling! So when I go to these things, I try only to glance when I have to, and spend more time ignoring than anything else.

But I've gone on long enough about some of my idiosyncrasies; it's time to move on to some one else's! That someone would be Justin, my favorite blogger [said with a dreamy smile and twinkle in my eye]! He didn't mention me this time, but a coworker that I don't know. In this story, Justin goes by a supposed character name of Mitch, of which I highly approve! His blogs are always thoroughly entertaining with little hints of sarcasm and misanthropy. I feel that while I don't know him at all, and have a slight aversion to his desire to be an architect, I feel he is a kindred spirit! He is after all my blog crush! I treat him as though he were Douglas Adams, an untouchable writer! But instead he is Justin Mitch Z! Ahhhhhh!

So I want to thank Holly for taking the time to blog, you go! No one has to write excellent to blog, you just need to do it! And if you are lucky, you might get one very interesting freak named Steph to fall in love with you!

I want to thank Eva for taking time yesterday to sit down to dinner with me and let me vent and whine pretty much the whole time. I don't share a rank, which is good to know!

Thanks people for reading, you don't have to; so I hope this is at least entertaining with a mix of odd humor, distaste for mankind, and a draw of strong depressive mood swings!

Onward with the word of the day:

ACB: Short for "air-conditioner booty". A woman whose buttocks, when viewed from the side, resemble a wall-unit air conditioner protruding from a house.

In use: Jodie's ACB was knocking people's drinks off the table last night!

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