REVISION #4: BOYS CAN'T KICK VERY HIGH

I found some online stutter-support community and had a sad laugh at all the typos. "i dtutter horribly but thats how i make friends." You try not laughing at that, GUILT-TRIPPER.

...

Telephone ring. 817 area code. I think it's Shad.

"Hello."
"Hellooooo...LINDSEY."
"This is Tracy."
"Tracy?"
"Who is this?"
"Patrick."
"Who is Patrick?"
"Who is Tracy?"

I cackle for a while.

"I take it you're trying to reach Lindsey, then."
"Well yeah. Where is she?"
"She's out with Shad."
"Oh. And you're home alone?"
"Yeah."
"Are you having fun?"
"I guess."

More awkward conversation/I'm wondering if this is some fruitbag who is going to show up at my door.

"Do you want me to tell her you called?"
"No, I'll get a hold of her by other means."
I BET YOU WILL, PATRICK.

Really though, who are these people?

...

I think this headache I acquired this afternoon might keep me from attending Dad's Kaboomtown festivities over in Addison. It's both a shame and a niceness that he's the only reason I'd go anyway--his guitar licks deserve my love and support, my smiling face in the audience of half-drunk parents having a good time by ignoring their children (most of whom can be found either playing in the inflatable castle or trying to deflate it). There just isn't much reason to go, really. It takes half an hour to get there and triple that to get home because the traffic is a brutal nightmare of an experience. Then top that off with the not-knowing-anyone-there and you're set for one heck of a wasted evening (even the fireworks aren't worth it). So I guess in all honesty I'm a bit thankful that I have a headache right now because I know for sure I'd have one later if I did decide to go to the silly thing. I love you, Dad. Love love love. Maybe you can play a song for me when you get home. I always did like your version of Long As I Can See the Light.

I asked Mom today how she feels about helping me overhaul my bathroom (think new sink/faucet, removing wallpaper, painting, new floor, etc.) for my birthday at the end of this month. She said it was a possibility and that basically got my hopes up. I can't even fathom doing any kind of work right now (headache) but I'm sure I'll have a blast with it later. Right now I just need to eat some chicken.

DEAD OR ALIVE.

...

I'm deeply saddened that this LiveJournal is no longer regularly updated. Nobody else discovers catnip quite like Sebastian.