4-14-2003 | 6:58 p.m.

Neal McDonough, you made me cry last night. Thanks a lot buddy. I don’t understand, after not even remembering the last time I cried, I’m bawling like a baby over everything. Like a chain reaction after watching "The Pianist." That Boomtown show really gets to me.

I haven’t had an update on Chris yet, which I guess is good news. I’m sure he’s nicely sedated. He’s where he needs to be right now. I have to believe that.

So, Saturday night I was all mopey, sitting on the couch watching TV, curled up in a blanket. The phone rings. It’s drunken neighbor Jeff. He’s calling from the driveway. "Can I hang out for a while?" I opened the window and yelled, "No." Dramatic pause. "Just playing. Cmon in."

Jeff is already pretty drunk, but I mix up another jack and coke anyway. Still, I did not drink. We sat there, watching this show on Food Network, about cereals from the 70’s or something a long that premise. It’s pretty quiet.

Jeff yells at the TV, "Cereal can kiss me ass!" I don’t respond. He gets louder. "Cereal is like $6.00 a box. Rip off! CEREAL! No way, I won’t pay that much for stupid cereal. Cereal can just KISS MY ASS!" Jeff sighs.

Is this where I should ask about his cereal trauma? I asked if his wife and son eat cereal. "Yeah, but I won’t touch that shit. They can buy it. Fuckin cereal!" Many stories followed, including the tale of the shrinking underwear. Crazy. Still, I did laugh. He’s not so bad, that drunk Jeff.

I saw his wife the next day and asked if Jeff had issues with cereal. She rolled her eyes. "Don’t even get me started! He has issues with everything, you should know that."

I’m taking lessons so I can get my drivers license back. Really trying this time. The instructor thinks I’m doing well, but it’ll be a few months before I’m ready for the road test. Imagine the freedom I’ll have. I can keep it together. Hope so.