February 6, 2005

  • It was my uncle's birthday yesterday.  He's sixty-two now.  We had a party for him and he had his co-worker friends over.  One is still here.  He and my uncle are drunk and I'm really uncomfortable, not so much because my uncle is drunk, but because his co-worker is here.  Right now, he's talking.  I'm not sure if he's talking to himself or to someone on a phone, but I can hear him from the other room.  I'm sort of on vigil right now, because I don't know this guy.  He hasn't earned enough trust from me to be in my home overnight, while my family and I are asleep. 


    Even deeper than that, I don't trust my uncle's judgment in people's character.  He still associates with his baby's momma, who beyond that I believe is a vicious, life-sucking, energy-draining witch that uses and abuses him.  Yet as much as I offer advice, he brushes me off, saying, "You're too young to understand."  My uncle cosigned for a vehicle for one individual who, by the way, had their car repossessed once already, and the same thing happened to this second vehicle.  Maybe you can be too nice.  What I believe to be a  more accurate description is that you can be so worried about what other people, particularly your friends, think of you that you put yourself in compromising positions where more important opinions of you, in this case, your family and credit agencies, are damaged.


    But I could be wrong, and my whole philosophy on life is totally jacked up.