So as you may of been able to tell the recent standard of writing has deteriorated every so slightly. I should probably apologise for this but i can't help but feel its only myself i have let down or maybe even myself who has noticed. Recently i have received compliments about my blog which created pressure to write brilliant fantastic posts that just get better and better. I think i created this pressure for myself wanting to keep the blog as well liked and popular as i could. Obviously this backfire and ended in me wanting to write something and having nothing to put so instead vomiting out nonsenses crap. I think.
The title is a quote from my hilarious Auntie Paula, I can guarantee that every time she comes round to visit (and on the rare occasion when i am actually aloud to sit and join her and mothers conversation, from which i am often shooed from in case i repeat what they say, ¬¬). You will always end up in tears of laughter or i will anyway, just the way she tells story's and their facial expression are bloody hilarious! The stories as well. Today i was with mum, waiting for the train which was delayed. We were going through stories while sitting like peace protesters on the floor (which the train instructor so kindly complimented on.) and listening to the most retarded sounding cockerel i have ever heard in the background, squawking away like it was giving birth or something horrid like that. Anyway, the stories were just so funny, my lungs are only just recovering i was crying of laughter so much i could barely stand.
It was a good weekend seeing the parents. Both out their nutter. It was a very usual sensation, lying in bed listening to mum and dad talk down stairs watching TV and moving around the house as they used to do, together. I hate the idea of them getting back together, but it wasn't like that, we weren't all playing happy families "oh things just the way they used to be". Pugh! I feel sick again. No it was different it felt.... secure, safe and right! What a strange combination, Katrina was finaly put in her place and a weight off our shoulders with Dad around to deal with her pathetic antics. Mum was mum again calm, laid back, floating along through her thoughts happy with being able to share the burden and Dad well, he was just enthused to be among it all, humans. wow! Out for a while escaping from his secluded little flat, of which i love the view. I do miss him and loath the idea of him being alone. I have the image of him sitting reading in a arm chair placed in the middle of the room, under a faint and pathetic light trying to read and work out the next mystery novel, probably knowing the end before hes turned the first page. He was my Dad again for the first time in years. I watched him talk and introduce us slowly to his new life he had built up and was still putting the pieces of together, and i was trying to work out what had changed. It wasn't because he wasn't around certain people or in certain situations, no, well maybe him being on his own helped, just to see the true him and not him acting or hiding behind the personality he had built up with them. But it actually took me a while to realize what it was that changed. It shocked me how long it took for it to click in my head and see the difference and why it felt familiar and so warm. He hadn't been drinking any alcohol in ages! He was sober normal Douglas. How bazaar, but wonderful! If destroying all the alcohol in the world meant having my Dad like that all the time, i wouldn't spot until every drop was destroyed and forgotten about. In felt connected to him again, i felt like his daughter for once, i loved it, was like a drug i just wanted more and more of this feeling.
