Being in Florida is difficult for me. It's hard to watch my brother and deal with his crap. I have to see how he treats his family and I have to see the kids idolize (and idealize) him. I've been thinking more about my brother's where-abouts the night before the 5k. When he showed up Saturday AM he didn't smell like booze and he wasn't fuzzy. I suspect he has a girlfriend. That would also explain why he didn't want any of the kids to go back with him and why he took a detour on the way home. Of course this is just speculation on my part and I can't back this up with anything so I'm just talking out my ass here.

It's also hard because my only living grandparent isn't doing too well. She's my paternal grandmother and is in Missouri. She fell and broke her neck (literally) a few months ago and, as one can imagine, things have been downhill from there. My dad has gone to St. L several times since then and my mom has joined him on a few of those. The trips will just be more numerous in the near future, I'm afraid. I'll probably be making a trip to St. L sometime in the near future as well - perhaps before the end of the year.

So I see my parents are under a lot of stress. And I fear that it is killing them. My mother is harder to read than my father so I don't know if that is better or worse. I mean, is she handling it all a lot better? Or is she just internalizing it more? Dad gets so angry that his face turns nearly purple. I know that he is getting very stressed out and that this stress could be the death of him. Literally. So my job is to try to keep my father alive. Gee - no pressure there. My dad's only brother (also older) is too self-centered to help out with their mother. My father and I could make a club of those who have useless older brothers. I'm sure there is a clever acronym in there somewhere but I can't come up with it right now.

And I watch my parents dealing with my brother and with my dad's mother so I just try to not cause them any grief. I often play the role of therapist with my father and let him vent about all the crap he's dealing with. He told me that the "Others" are getting him down. He explained the "Others" are his mOther, his brOther and my brOther. Yes, the Others. Sometimes it's really hard for me to play this role because I'd like to run to them for comfort but I really don't want to add to their worries. The last thing I want is them to feel that they also have to worry about me.

But I do admit that sometimes I get really envious. I mean my parents constantly underwrite my brother, his lifestyle (yes, they enable him) and his family. Phil can't get a mortgage cuz he has bad credit. So my parents paid for their house. They just bought it outright and Phil is supposed to be making mortgage payments to my folks. Well, guess which bill doesn't get paid when Phil goes AWOL... And this upsets me. Mostly it bugs me for my parents' sake. But part of me is envious of the extra cash Phil gets. I would love to live for free but I don't have that opportunity. Would I do it if I could? I sincerely doubt it. I don't think I could do it. At least I hope I couldn't. I remember way back when Jimmy & I moved into our rental house in Urbana. We were grad students and we used our money (my money, truth be told) to buy a new bed, a dining room set, washer & dryer. That same summer Phil & Erin moved into a new house (bought by my folks) in St. Louis and my parents bought them a washer & dryer. I'm ashamed to admit how envious I was. But at the same time it's pretty obvious -- I don't need to admit it. I mean, that was 10 years ago and I still remember it so there you have all the evidence you need. I assume they do it because they don't want the grandkids to live in a cardboard box. Still, I am childishly envious. And I'm ashamed of this.

I think I might have discovered a significant pattern in my behavior. I'm not sure what to make of it yet, but I think that it is worth recording and later analyzing. I was at a bday party today and talking with someone about books and reading habits. I said that I have a really hard time abandoning a book even if it's not very good. Very rarely will I ditch a book before I have finished it. Even if I don't like it, I keep reading it. I somehow feel obligated to see it through to its end. Often I think that it has to get better so I keep giving it a chance to prove itself. Then the book ends and I think, "Well, that was a waste of 400 pages" or something similar. I typically do the same thing with movies. It is hard for me to just turn off a film and not finish it. I remember once Jimmy and I watched THE DEVIL'S ADVOCATE -- a terrible movie in which Al Pacino plays Lucifer and Keanu Reeves' father. I'll never forget the laughably awful exchange that went something like this:
Keanu: "So, you're Satan!"
Pacino: "You can call me 'Dad'."

The movie was just painfully bad. Yet I couldn't just stop watching it. Jimmy and I even talked about turning it off and I said, "It has to get better" and "There's no way this movie is really going to remain THIS bad." Well, it did. There have been a few times when I have set down a book or turned off a movie but those times are so few that I actually remember them. And I think I might even remember them with guilt. Like I didn't try hard enough to like the movie or book or I failed in my commitment to see it through.

Do I need to point out the parallels to how I respond to relationships?

I wonder how much of this has to do with having an addict for a brother. A friend in PA once heard me talking about how I perceive things and actually asked, "So, who in your family is an addict?" then he suggested I go to Al-Anon meetings. I went to a few but I didn't like that in Al-Anon they wanted us to recite something that stated that we admitted that we were powerless to alcohol. The theory was that since someone in our lives was an alcoholic, we also had to not drink. Huh? That wasn't for me. But with my brother I often feel like I should do more. And when he craps on me I don't cut him off. I don't ditch the book. I think it has to get better.

And I think this next story ties into all of this: a while ago I was at a bar with some friends and someone I know from campus with whom I'm friendly was there. This guy is an alcoholic but thinks he can control it. Well, when I saw him there with a beer in his unsteady hand I knew it wasn't a good thing. I care about him and I don't want to see him totally f*ck up and hit rock bottom. So I talked with him and he invited me to sit down next to him. This is a bar that has couches and comfie chairs and a pretty groovy feel. So I'm there talking with him and he was drunkenly friendly and gave me a kiss on the cheek. That was okay. I'm used to besitos so I really didn't think anything of it. We continued to chat about nothing in particular and then he tried to kiss me for real. I pushed him away and he got all flustered and said, "Oh my God. I'm so sorry. I don't know why I did that. Oh Geez. I'm sorry. That didn't happen." I said, "Don't worry about it - nothing happened." And then I still sat there talking with him. Why? I was trying to be Good Friend. I didn't want him to feel awkward so I didn't walk away. He apologized and my way of accepting his apology was to stay. Trying to protect his feelings but not really allowing myself to explore the fact that I felt awkward. A few minutes later he said, "All I can think about is how you rejected me when I tried to kiss you." Jesus Christ. I thought we had agreed that that hadn't happened! I said, "Oh come on. Did you honestly expect a different outcome?" I think my wording might have been a bit too complex for him. I said, "I'm going to get another beer." I went to the bar. He followed me and tried to snuggle up to me from behind. Ack! I just kept trying to avoid him. Then he asked me to buy him a beer. I told him I didn't have any more $ after the beer I had just purchased for myself. He pouted. Then I went to head back to my friends and he kept trying to playfully block my way. Eventually I got past him. I never said, "F*ck off" or anything mean. I found my friends and gave them a quick recap so one of them kept positioning herself between me & drunk Romeo when he inevitably found me. Somehow he did work himself next to me on these couches we were all sharing. He reclined and wanted to use my lap as a pillow. I figured at least that was better than him trying to kiss me. He complained that my runner's legs were too hard and that I made a bad pillow. I think I said something like, "Then don't use my lap as a pillow" but maybe I just thought it and didn't vocalize it. Then he grabbed a cushion and placed that between his head and my lap. Next he grabbed my hand and wanted to "hold pinkies." I felt like I was trying to placate a 2 year old. Then he kept calling my name to get my attention and then as soon as I said exasperatedly, "What?" he would make these fish faces scrunching his lips together I think in effort to entice me to kiss him. Ew. My friends and I left and then he said, "Please don't go. Stay with me." And I said, "My ride is leaving. Bye!" I double-checked with someone else that he had a ride home and I left. When I got to my friend's car my phone rang and it was drunk Romeo. I didn't answer. He didn't leave a message (thank God). So this whole experience was uncomfortable. He was a drunken jerk. He crossed the line. I should have told him to f*ck off. I should have forcefully pushed him away instead of being so damn nice. His behavior irritated the crap out of me. Why did I tolerate it? Why did I placate the 2 year old? BTW apparently he was so drunk that he doesn't remember his actions. I was slightly concerned that it would be awkward when I ran into him at work. Part of me wanted it to be awkward. Part of me wanted him to say, "Wow. About the other night... I'm really sorry... I think I was out of line." And that same part of me would have wanted me to respond, "Yeah you were. You were out of line and you have a problem." Well, he hasn't said anything. And neither have I. I haven't brought it up because, like I said, I doubt he remembers. What's the point of me calling him on it?

It is obvious that this incident and my relationship with my brother are connected. I have a habit of not calling drunks out on their behavior. I just take their crap and expect no apology (and receive none either). I do suspect that this is also somehow relevant to the virtual inability to abandon a book or movie I am not enjoying. And I think that all of this somehow informs my current (and previous) relationships and how I behave in them. I'm not really in the mood to explore all the connections right now but I did want to make note of them since I had a mini-epiphany tonight.

BTW - It's got to be carcinogenic in some way but I love Febreeze. House doesn't smell all doggy anymore!