Hung out-

-with my Dad today.

It really was pretty cool, actually.

I mean, so long as I kept the conversation away from "what I've been up to" and focus on "what he's been up to" we're gold.

And it has been pretty fun.

The funny thing is he has been actively avoiding addressing what he percieves as "the problem," which in his mind is me doing heroin, which I've actually never done. Of course, the actual problem is the fact that I'm a werewolf, but I'm actually managing that pretty well I think.

That's the difference between lycanthropy and heroin, I think, is that lycanthropy is, well- managable.

Or, at least, I think I'm managing it pretty well.

And therein lies the problem. You tell one lie and it leads to many lies. I don't know anybody who was in trouble with heroin, stopped, got better and walks around talking about it. So I don't know what to tell him.

I mean, maybe heroin is like lycanthropy in that way- I mean, if I somehow beat this thing, and it turns out that I don't have to change into a monster on every full moon, well shit- am I going to walk around bragging about how I beat it?

Fuck no.

I'm gonna keep it to myself, and hope it never happens again.

Which is what I assume heroin addicts would do.

So here's what I think I'm going to do.

I'm going to tell him that I really don't have a problem with heroin except during the full moon. I mean, it's well documented that the full moon causes intense reactions in people, so I figure I'll just say that during that time I go a little nuts, but have been able to contain myself. Then I'll be able to stick to as much of the truth as possible, and maybe try to salvage some kind of honest relationship with him.

I told him that the pigs belonged to a friend, and I was holding them for a while.

Jesus Christ.

My life is really, really, really not turning out the way either me or my dad had expected.

We may go see The Producers tomorrow.

I need some serious help.