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2000-03-26 | 13:18:22

Threw a baby shower for Mike and Scott yesterday. Spent a fortune on food and decorations to impress their other friends, whom I will never see again. One-third yuppie friends from work, one-third self-important (read: holier-than-thou) Barrington alumni, one-third whatever else. Had a cow when learned at least two were vegans. Vegans! Fuck! I had two vegetarian dishes in anticipation of unannounced vegetarians, but neglected to ask if any vegans would be attending. So one salad had a cream-based viniagrette dressing and the other had feta cheese. I told Scott he should have told me in advance; would have been easy to serve the feta on the side and/or offer another dish. But nobody told me and the poor vegans were left with pistachio nuts and ... well, pistachio nuts is basically it. Mike seemed slightly to relish the idea that they went unfed. She kept saying, "they're vegans, they're used to it" but that didn't make me feel less of a jerk. I no longer pick up on subtleties like that. Frankly, I've fed vegetarians many times but never had a vegan over, so I just spaced it.

Party started at 2; Mike and Scott arrived around 2:20 (endured hellish half-hour with their overly prompt friends) and left around 9. Last out were Frank and Fiona at 10. Around midnight, the phone rings. I'm dead asleep but hear Duff saying, "Oh no." And on and on as I wonder which relative of mine is in trouble. He talks a long time, I fall back to sleep. Then he shows up with the phone. Turns out it's Fiona; Frank is in jail on a DWI. Got stopped in Pinole doing 80 MPH. He failed the Breathalyzer. They were going to cite and release him but decided to keep him overnight because he was being "uncooperative." Now it's Sunday afternoon and he's still in there. Fiona called a lawyer, friend of a friend, who's working to get him out. Horrible, horrible news. I told Fiona it could have been worse, at least he didn't hurt himself or anybody else, which seemed to give her some small comfort. It is pretty bad all by itself. She feels guilty because, feeling tired, she asked him to drive. She still feels safer with him driving drunk than herself tired and I know exactly what she means. I told her she may have asked him to drive (which will of course have to end), but she didn't ask him to drive 80 MPH. Then we talked about how hard it is for her to deal with him when he refuses to behave conventionally or care about convention, to such an extent that it is ruining his health. Horrible, horrible. Will have to try to help them somehow.

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