10-4-2002 | 1:23 a.m.

Update on the missing brother fiasco:

My Mom and Step-Dad did find George and his girlfriend holed up in his apartment and traded cars. When my Mom called and described the appearance of said apartment I cringed. Refrigerator unplugged. Dirty dishes, empty beer bottles everywhere. Nasty overfilled ashtrays. Food on the floor. Dirty clothes everywhere.

Reminded me of my Dad's place after my Mom split from him. You know, when he was offering me Peach Schnapps and obviously on drugs. Cockroaches scurrying around the apartment. On the weekends my brother and I were 'assigned' to stay there, we slept in beds covered with dirty sheets. Potato chips crushing under our feet. No clean towels. Oh how I dreaded those weekends.

I don't care how much my dad denies it - my brother (and most likely his girlfriend) is screwing with drugs. His phone is still disconnected, and I have no number to reach him at work. We just found out today that he hasn't paid his rent for the past two months. What kind of fucked up existence will my nephew be bought in to?

On the other hand, I look like an angel in comparison.