oh my.
i tried calling a couple times tonight. but alas, to
my great disappointment, as you very well know, i was
unable to reach you. too bad really, it seemed i was
full of incredibly witty and poignant things to say,
so instead i tried to write songs expressing the pain
and anguish one feels at growing up a white male in
urban western kansas. as of this writing it's not
going so well, but i do believe i've achieved the
guitar tone necessary to convey my thoughts.
that being said, what would be a practical time to reach you? i was beginning to wonder if either of us actually existed, so i thought maybe it would be best to branch out into another medium. and everyone loves the phone.
i remember once, when i was in seventh grade, a friend of mine, mike, a very straight laced kid(he's in law school at ku), called me at nine o'clock with a proposition, he'd been hearing stories at school about crazy all night phone conversations. needless to say he was filled with envy, how dare all his class mates get wild kicks on the phone. so his proposition was that the two of us should talk on the phone all night! oh, the tales we'd tell the next day at school. he could just see it, both of us dead tired, drowsy and whining all day long. "why mike? why brandon? why are you so tired?" "on the phone? all night?" "what did you two talk about?" oh wouldn't they all like to know. as it turned out after about 30 minutes of gossiping about our friends, at 9:30, i hear a click...dead silence. come to find out the next day at school that mike had heard a noise, assumed it to be his father, hung up and immediatey feigned sleep. after that scare he was too frightened to call back. to think back on it now, it's a very special imagined memory, to see mike tucked in bed still reeling from his exploits. i think the whole story is a metaphor or something, but i'll be unavailable for comment on the symbolic aspect of my anecdote. this doesn't even come close to the time mike and i camped out in my parents motor home drinking mountain dew with coffee crystals mixed in.
i think that was probably one long run-on sentence. i apologize if it makes no sense, but i would never push the send button if i were to go back and edit any of my emails. even using the speel check feature can sometimes be too much.
friends are a funny thing. wow, i'm ultra profound! i know how i think you feel though. my friends, i love them to death, but they can take their toll. i may just be paranoid, but sometimes i feel like my friends' greatest pleasure in life comes from watching their close friends fail. i know it's not all true, and maybe it's a male bravado thing, though none of my friends are overtly masculine, but they just seem to pay a lot more attention to the things that are not going well for someone.
cigarettes? nope, i tried a couple of times, but i could never get properly addicted. every once in a great while, in the midst of serious binge drinking i'll beg dan for one, and he'll refuse to give it to me because he knows i'll only take a few drags proceed to not inhale and then put it out. i once bet dan 20 bucks that he couldn't go a year without smoking. to my knowledge he made it the whole year. he wouldn't let me pay him the money, but he did go right ahead and start smoking again. thats dan.
i'm brandon and i'll be in touch. i think maybe i'd even like to see you sometime, my mental picture of you is changing quickly from a girl i met at tanners to a string of randomly informative emails. busy this weekend? oh, bitter sweet tragedy.
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