In Pursuit of Less Drama In My Life

You know what I don’t like…drama. I know everyone says that, but I think some people secretly crave it. I hate it. I’ve had enough of chasing multiple gal friends down when they take off running and crying because of something someone said upsetting them. That sucks because I wasn’t always in that great of a shape and my legs are short dammit! Then there’s the fact that Seattle weather isn’t always so friendly to people running around without their jacket…but when girlfriends are upset, it’s a bit hard to say, “Can you hold the waterworks and drama for one sec while I put on a nice warm layer, my dear?” The fact that running around in the cold is a major buzz killer doesn’t help either.
So for the most part, I try to stay out of drama's path. I climb mountains…I don’t even get signals up there, so drama can’t reach me. Then I get all hungry and stuff and have to climb back down. *sigh*
I had a great time staying home, still giggling from recent adventure while rubbing lotion on blistering sunburns. On a side note, fuck you, ear lobes! Where the hell did you guys come from? I didn’t even know you guys were around. Don’t go around announcing your existence to me by means of painful blisters. I shun you both. I’m still not going to put sunblock on you two…have you seen movies where the guys put sunscreen on the ladies, it’s not on their fucking ear lobes!
So back to, fuck you drama! I seem to get the crappy kind of drama that only really bad soap opera writers make up, because it’s just so far out there. I made the mistake of leaving the house. I left to grab some dinner and movie with my sister.
My sister has been going on this vegetarian kick for a couple weeks because life hasn’t been going so smoothly for her, and us being Buddhist and all, she gave up meat…because that means sparing a life…blah blah…religious crap about good karma. Problem is…the girl is anemic even when she was eating meat. She started complaining about how she hasn’t been feeling so great. I told her maybe instead of giving up meat, she should give up drinking. Halfway through the meal she turns green and said she felt faint, so I went to fetch her car from the valet. She goes to sit on a couch while I did this, I turn back to check on her, and she was gone…I went to bathroom to check on her. Someone appeared to have vomited along the way...not sure whom...but it looks like we might not be going back there anytime soon. I drove her car back to her place with her lying down in the backseat. She told me she was already starting to feel better and to let her rest there, so I told her I’ll catch a movie nearby and if she feels worse at any moment to just call me.
I got back to my car and called up Sung who was so gracious enough to keep me from being a lonely loser at the theater. “Cars” was pretty damned good. Pixar rules! They seem to have isolated the element of “cute” and are able to apply it to everything…hell they made CARS cute. My favorite example of this is, look at “Bug’s Life” and “Antz”. The first is cute, adorable and funny, the other latter is creepy and fugly.
I dropped Sung off after the movie and saw that my dad had called. He left me a message saying it was regarding “urgent matter”. I called him back and he asked me to write him a letter…similar to what I had done for him in the past. I asked him to clarify that statement. He said he needed a letter of character witness for the court. I asked him why he would need that when that case was near history.
A brief history here, my dad has a history of anger problem…extreme anger problem. I can see in his eyes that he is sometimes not there when angry. He is a wife beater. It’s why my mother eventually divorced him after many years of abuse. About five years ago, my company sent me to U.K. to work on our first Harry Potter game…during which time things got really bad. I came home to find that my dad was jailed and that my mom and siblings all have restraining orders on him. In the end, I had to stand in court on his behalf as a character witness. Yes, I know what he did was wrong, but you know what, I simply told the court the truth from my side, he was always a good father to me. It was hard, because I feel like I was betraying my mother, but she was not the one being incarcerated.
Now, five years later…I’m asking him why he needs a letter. He has moved on in his life, he has a wife, and three kids (two were twins) with her. He said she’s divorcing him and taking him to court. Without his elaborating, I know he did hit her. I told him I’ll think about it.
I’ve been thinking about it since. A part of me does not want to do this, because it was hard enough the first time, the second time would simply make me an enabler. Still, I define my life by choices that best allows me to sleep at night…I can not go to bed with a clear conscience if I did nothing to help my father when he asks. Far as how I justify to myself the fact that I’m helping someone that repeats his mistake and causes other people pain? I tell myself this, I fear the person that has all his loved ones turn their backs on him more than the person that has not been justifiably condemned by all. Whether this is wrong or right to another person, I really don't give a damn. In the end, he'll probably serve time again, it only reduces the sentence a bit so that he doesn't come out an embittered old man.
Keep in mind, this is all for a very selfish reason…because last time I checked, the man owes me a halibut fishing trip. So until I catch a fish that weighs more than me, I would like it if he spends a little less time in jail.
I did call my sister back and she said she was feeling better…I told her to eat some damned meat already or at the very least go get some damned vitamin and iron supplements…damned sister and her attempts at getting scurvy.