Daddy Issues.

I know it's been forever and I Do feel bad that it takes me soooo long to update and my last update wasn't exactly long. I also know I said I'd try and make my blog all about film, and this post isn't related to film, but I feel like it needs to be said.

Anyone who knows me knows I have Daddy issues, it's not that hard to realize, and yeah, I know it's so cliche to blog about it, but hell if a blog isn't for me posting what's on my mind, what's it for? Me pretending to be so superior to people I don't know and talking shit about celebrities? No, that's falling under the cliche category for me. Okay, anyways, Daddy issues. So, the last time I talked to my dad was before father's day... Know what I'm going to have to go back a leeeeetle further then that. A few years ago my dad moved back to Ventura with his girlfriend and her two kids, he then asked if he could see me, if I would start spending weekends out there with them, and my mom agreed that I could spend my court ordered weekends there. Every other weekend and Wednesdays. That Wednesday thing happened like... Twice. After awhile things started to feel normal, I started to feel like I had a dad again, sure I was reserved, I didn't want to get hurt, but, this was my dad, and he seemed like he was making an effort, right? Well, after awhile they found a bigger place in Ventura, over on the East side of Ventura, so we moved into that place, I was still a couch dweller but that was no big deal, I could handle sleeping on the couch. I spent Easter morning there and was given an easter basket, an awesome Beatles picture and a cute stuffed monkey that I promptly named 'Easter Monkee'. Things seemed great, Dad or his girlfriend would help me get hours with my driving since I had just gotten my permit, I was seeing my brother more... Then It happened. I got there one Friday ready for a nice weekend, when the first thing I noticed was a huge pile of boxes in the kitchen. A huge pile of boxes that went unmentioned for hours while my dad got ready for work. Finally I couldn't help but address the elephant in the room. They were moving back to Vegas. Not only were they moving back to Vegas but he couldn't understand why I was so upset about that. Things were finally starting to look up, we were getting along and I was dropping that wall I had built for that very reason. Life wasn't fair! Ever since then it was limited contact with him. When I finally got a car he agreed to pay my insurance and then, like child support, when he decided he didn't have the money, he stopped paying without me knowing my mom started to pick up the insurance tab. I don't think she was surprised. Conversations between us (my father and myself) were rarer and rarer and not only that, they were... Forced. I felt like I had to force myself to say something, we had so little to say to each other. Sunday my dad is getting married, and what are my plans for the big day? I'm planning on sleeping. Saturday night at the New Beverly is the 12 hour horror marathon and I'm not missing that for the world. I tried calling him for father's day only to get his voicemail, I left him a message that would never be returned. To be honest, I don't know if he's still getting married on 10/10/10 like they planned, and to be even more honest, these days I don't care. If he doesn't have the time to stop and take five minutes to call me, why should I drive myself crazy about whatever it is he's doing with his life? his dad was an alcoholic and wasn't really there for him. One would hope that he would have learned from that and tried to be the dad his wasn't, but that would be too romantic, this is the real world after all, and the real world is full of depression and disappointment, two things emotions I'm sorry to say I've felt waaaay too much when it comes to my dad. Therefor from this moment on, if he's not ready to make an effort, then I'm not either. He can have his perfect little replacement life in Vegas with his new house, new family and new life and I'm going to go on pretending he doesn't exist. And that's just one story.

I know it's obvious I still think about my dad as much as I try not to. Sometimes I wish I could tell him everything I've neglected to tell him, and sometimes I think it's better this way. I don't think either of those answers will ever be the right, somethings should be said and other should not but until the effort is put forth by him, I'm not saying anything. I'm tired of trying to make everything work and I'm tired of always being disappointed by him. So until then, I'm not going to post about my dad anymore. Unless it's something among the lines of "He showed me this movie once".