in this posting: my dad is a god, i'm a thief
in analysis this morning my doctor actually made a comparison between my father and zeus. it was difficult to keep a straight face. the larger point she was making made sense, so i guess i'll give her a pass. i like to think of my father as kronos (the one who ate his kids). that's an analogy i can get behind. because he IS that big of an asshole -- and also then I'D be zeus and castrate and overthrow him.
i worked twelve hours yesterday, went home* at 9:00 and watched the olympics (from the neck down, michael phelps is perfection) and then went out to my ex-boyfriends club.
bad.
idea.
why would i go out to a club after a twelve-hour workday when i KNOW i have to get up at 6:30 for analysis? the only rational answer is "to get laid." but i wasn't even interested in getting laid last night. i'm missing someone. i don't think casual sex is a good idea. anyway... i chatted with the ex for a few minutes, had a gin & tonic and two beers and watched some very drunk trannies dance and sing. and met a sweet opera singer from north carolina who just moved here six weeks ago. poor guy -- that's quite an adjustment.
lots of coffee + 4-1/2 hours of sleep + getting up at 6:30 to talk about how crazy my dad is + emotional exhaustion + screenings of two "troubled" episodes of the show i'm working on is gonna = one longass friday.
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* i'm not staying at home right now. i'm house-sitting for my old boss. and i'm wearing a t-shirt today that i took out of the son's bedroom. i'll wash it and put it back eventually. is that wrong? it's not as wrong as the time i took a white prada shirt that belonged to the daughter's boyfriend and wore it to a gay bar. THAT was wrong. and quite dangerous.
i worked twelve hours yesterday, went home* at 9:00 and watched the olympics (from the neck down, michael phelps is perfection) and then went out to my ex-boyfriends club.
bad.
idea.
why would i go out to a club after a twelve-hour workday when i KNOW i have to get up at 6:30 for analysis? the only rational answer is "to get laid." but i wasn't even interested in getting laid last night. i'm missing someone. i don't think casual sex is a good idea. anyway... i chatted with the ex for a few minutes, had a gin & tonic and two beers and watched some very drunk trannies dance and sing. and met a sweet opera singer from north carolina who just moved here six weeks ago. poor guy -- that's quite an adjustment.
lots of coffee + 4-1/2 hours of sleep + getting up at 6:30 to talk about how crazy my dad is + emotional exhaustion + screenings of two "troubled" episodes of the show i'm working on is gonna = one longass friday.
------
* i'm not staying at home right now. i'm house-sitting for my old boss. and i'm wearing a t-shirt today that i took out of the son's bedroom. i'll wash it and put it back eventually. is that wrong? it's not as wrong as the time i took a white prada shirt that belonged to the daughter's boyfriend and wore it to a gay bar. THAT was wrong. and quite dangerous.
Labels: Dad, Drew, Hollywood, Psychoanalysis, The Canadian
2 Comments:
Again with the clothing theft... one day you're gonna get caught and he's just gonna rip that shirt off you right there. But maybe that's the point?
Did you return the Prada shirt?
i did. i returned the prada shirt unharmed. whatever... they're rich. and this t-shirt is a thrift-store find... so it's not like other people haven't sweated in it already anyway.
and the justifications keep coming... hehe.
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