5-10-2002 | 8:54 p.m.

That last entry was one big whine-fest. I don't have anything clever or entertaining to say. I'm sick because I thought I was invincible all those years. Or maybe I just didn't care or couldn't look ahead to the future. You know, see the consequences of my actions.

Maybe I can blame my family again? Well you see, my Great-Grandfather arrived in the US as a drunken Irishman. My Grandfather hid bottles of scotch in the umbrella stand. Man, he told some hilarious stories though. Dad started to drink heavily after my bitchy Mom divorced him. When he lost his job and apartment and called me at 2:00am all wasted, I swore that I'd never drink. Then Mom married someone else and we moved into a little house across from the beach. A boy with a devilish grin asked me, "Will you be my drinking buddy?" I had my first drink...and well you know the rest.