This weekend was both some of the happiest moments I’ve had in a long time, and also some of the saddest. My Aunt and Uncle came into NYC from Colorado (that me and all my cousins all helped make happen). To see my Father and Aunts’ faces when my Aunt and Uncle walked into my house (they thought they were all there for something serious) was absolutely priceless. This was the first time in almost 15 years that they got to see each other face-to-face. Thursday night was spent talking well into the night. Friday, my parents took my Aunt and Uncle around Lower Manhattan for the day, and later they came over and had dinner with us. Just talking to them made me feel so happy. This was the first time I actually could talk to them, and it was an amazing time.
Sat was the pinnacle of the entire thing, where all my cousins (well, osme couldn't make it due to other commitments, and then some just have no class/balls to face the family anymore) got together and had a dinner for my father and his sisters at the hotel. For the most part it was a great time (besides my one cousin not controlling her kids right and forcing others to baby-sit them for her while she shoved food into her fat face, and her husband sat there like the brain-dead jerkoff that he is…but that’s another rant for another time). Just the energy in the room was fantastic, and my Aunt and Uncle surprised my dad and his sisters with gifts for them, scrapbooks of pictures of the family. Aunt and cousin did one hell of a job on it.
After all this happiness, of course God can’t have me smile that much, so at about 6 this morning, my dog, Stache, died. This shouldn’t be a shock to me, since he was in poor health recently, but it was just a crushing thing to happen. We were supposed to take him to the Doctor this morning, but we were supposed to take him there alive, not to dispose of his remains. All day I’ve felt my stomach get torn up over the guilt and regrets I had about him. I wish I was in his life more, and that I was able to care for him more and better than I did when he was alive.
See, I was only in his life day-to-day for about half his life. I was in college and living in Pa for the first half of his life. I wish I was there more, since he damn near died three or four times, and I was stuck in cow country or dealing with some slut bitch of a General Manager at that two-bit TV station. When I did spend time with him, he didn’t seem too interested in me, unless I had food of course. The order of love in his eyes was 1. Mom, 2. My sister, 3. My dad, then me. I did a lot of things for him, but I always thought it wasn’t enough in the end. All I hope for is that he’s up there drinking out of God’s toilet.
Well the entire day I was in bad shape, until 3 simple letters came on my screen: E C W. The WWE’s ECW Pay per View came on, and it was about an 8 out of a 10. For the first time in a long time, I felt goose bumps watching something I haven’t’ seen in 5 years, and the same feelings came back. You see, ECW and it wrestlers made the fans (both live at the show or on TV/tape) a part of the show. Tonight, I felt even more emotion form the show, since it could be the last time an ECW show will be made. Every match was some of the best wrestling (not that faggity sports-entertainment bullshit WWE talks about) I’ve seen in a long time. It was Ok that all their wrestlers came out to their “WWE” music, not the music they came out to in the old ECW, just bugged me they beeped out the swearing…this was supposed to be uncensored, but oh well. Only bad parts was the “Crusaders” (guys in WWE that were there to end ECW because they shouldn’t be brought back for the “garbage” wrestling ECW was known for) got way too much facetime, and it drug down the pace of the show. The ending was done correctly I think, and there was a nice surprise at the end. Now I’m here writing this and now I’m going to sleep.