Got the birthday call from my family. Managed to bite my tongue when mum informed me she was putting her eldest son on the line. God, he sounded like shit. Asked me what was new four times. (Oh, yes, btw, she informed me in a previous phonecall that she was going to tell him he was forgiven and the past was the past. No! It's not the past because he's the epitome of history repeating!). But I want to not get on her bad side, so I bore out the excruciating conversation where he pushed and pushed about what I'd done for the weekend/my birthday, and since it wasn't anything exciting, he pulled out the typical judgment he's always had. I told him sorry, he couldn't live vicariously through me. He said he didn't need to, as he'd done enough non-vicarious living of his own, and hey, at least he has the excuse of a lame weekend because he didn't have a license.
He used his loss of license (of job, of wife, of the rest of his life) as a I defense.
Buddy, I do not want your idea of a good time. I do not want parties. I do not want drugs, DUIs, or running around Manchvegas waving around a gun and stealing and fencing bike racks to support my H habit. Please, please, stop fucking judging my life. Better yet...