I hung out Sunday night with my other cousin (I have so freakin' many). I hadn't seen him in a while, just spoken on the phone or AIM. We had a good time, I made him buy me a few drinks. He was happy to, he owed me for dinner from ages ago. We caught up on old times and he told me about his travels in Italy, France and Germany while he was in the Air Force, about his failed engagement and the sort of new woman in his life. I told him what was going on in my life, and then we just started chatting about the world and what not. It was a good night. Something I hadn't done in a long time. Just sit and talk about things. Just things. Nothing life changing or political or silly or serious.
I miss that about living in Tallahassee with Bobbie, we would do that sometimes. Just talk about things. Usually over a game or four of pool. There was no pool played this day, but that's okay, I would have lost. :)
I'm rambling. And that's okay. Because it's my damn journal. So, yeah, and I got kind of pissy on Sunday night. H was telling me that J and H had invited her to go with them on Xmas eve to H's club. Oh, I said. H: I'm sure they wouldn't mind if you came along. Me: Oh, I'm sure, however, I wasn't invited. I don't go where I'm not invited. But it's good to know that my family would prefer to spend their time with you. Have a good time, I'll go hand out with A, she'll appreciate the company.
Left it at that. I was upset. Do you blame me? My own family didn't invite me out with them, just H. Nice. Fuckers.