it seems as though the worst has finally come true. in the wake of terrorist attacks against our great nation and other incidental air disasters, the light that shone to guide a confused nation through dark hours has been extinguished. thats right...at some point last night the grim reaper decided that the Old Navy Lady was no longer for this world. the Old Navy Lady is dead!
on a lighter note, i've learned that my father's fiancee left him, and he was just fired from his job as a baggage handler at orlando international airport. dad then moved in with my 18-year old brother, a naval dishonorable dischargee. not being possessed of four of the six hundred dollars necessary to pay the rent for this apartment, the two have been evicted. my father will soon be moving in with his parents at the tender age of fifty-two. i suppose i should lend him the money to save his apartment, but seeing as how i'm a full-time student with a full-time (shit) job i cant really bring myself to mail a money order to a man who still owes over thirteen years worth of back child support. amybe that's not very nice of me.
my perspective?
when by virtue of circumstance you rarely associate with your family (disagreement, disapproval, distance) its nice to think that they're at least holding down the stability factor that families are known for, and which enables you to justify your own instability by supplying you with the establishment against which to rebel. when your family's life begins to mirror your own adolescent chaos, the sense of theoretical balance disappears. it's a reminder of that whole being on your own, forever thing. at a time when Old Navy Lady's departure from the land of the living is acting as a memento mori, reminders of other depressing shit are politely asked to remain backstage until their cue is called, thank you very fucking much. break for lunch.