I got over Poop and Pukefest 2007 well enough to join my family at the beach. Who knows what Mr. Junky is up to. I called him, and he swore he'd call me back, and he hasn't called me back. I should have hired a babysitter. He probably would have slept with the babysitter, or gotten the babysitter high.
As I was leaving this morning, we spent about thirty minutes wrestling and making out and joking about how he needed to call his heroin dealer and get a whole big load of heroin since I was leaving town. It was SO FUNNY. HA HA HA.
And then he joked about how he might do so much heroin that he'd be dead before I got back.
So I'm here, with my mom and dad and sister and niece. My niece is the most beautiful creature I've ever seen. She really might be the most beautiful child ever. She won't stop asking me where my ex husband is. She doesn't understand about divorce. I told her I got rid of him because he ran around with hoochies and drank himself into a stupor all the time. I told her I kicked him to the curb. She asked what a curb is. She asked who is taking care of my puppy.
Grrrr. Time to call Mr. Junky obsessively. Good night.