Or so my eldest daughter, Beth, said, in a text message sent to me early yesterday morning. I was at the Shamrock, drinking with Eric. We had just gotten back from seeing Brokeback Mountain. It was a tale of misery, for sure. I just wanted to slap everyone involved, and yell at them, "get on with it or get over it." Of course, being gay in the late 60's and early 70's in Montana and Texas was different (though not much depending upon distance from an urban setting), but gawd! There sure is enough misery to go around in the world.
Logan had phoned just before Beth, on her way to drunk (her words), sent me the lovely greeting. I thought it was so sweet for him to call me at midnight to wish me Happy New Year. He was at home, minding die Kinder. He let them stay up til midnight, then sent them off to bed. When I got home from the bar, he was still awake. Eric spent the night (in my bed) since his mom didn't want him driving with all the drunks and cops out. So Logan (playing Age of Empires 3), Eric, and I drank some more. Eric opened a couple of bottles of a heavy red wine which I had trouble drinking. The acidity was pretty high, and I had already had three rum & Cokes (doubles at that!), so I wasn't really in a mood to drink anyway.
I needed something to help me relax, though, since I've been worried about my test results -- or lack thereof. I had a mammogram done on the 27th, and got a letter back the next day from the radiologist saying I needed further tests. My doctor is on vacation until the 11th, but I went ahead and scheduled another mammogram for the 9th. What a wonderful way to start the new year.
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