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one at a time
Dec. 16th, 2006 10:06 amFunny. On the rare instances I thought to the future, imagining what it would be like when any of my close friends decided to get married, I always kind of figured we'd be talking to each other. Fighting, maybe, over someone who refused to line up with all the other Barbie dolls, but still talking somehow.
I haven't heard jack from Arianne since I called about what days I needed to ask off in January. Which would be peachy, except there was the acquisition of the dress and a gift for her, neither of which she's commented on since. You'd think she'd e-mail or call, especially since I've done both, but no. Which is fine. Fine, fine, fine.
Then there's Cass who fell off the planet after the AFI concert. That was the last I heard of her, which doesn't seem like that long ago except Cass is attached to her phone and communication in any way necessary. It's one of those traits that's great and really annoying all rolled into one. Given what I'd last heard *about* her, I took matters into my own hands and set out to stalk her yesterday.
I made it to her house, I'm positive I had the right one, only to find no one home. Which, I suppose is to be expected since it was a weekday [barely] and possibly Matt's payday. But as I went from door to door, peeking at the windows, I realized their house looks completely empty from the outside. The gravel driveway came pretty close to twisting my ankle numerous times. The windows are all blacked out, which is probably a good idea considering the neighborhood, but still plenty creepy despite the sunlight and relative warmth. Perhaps snooping around behind their house was a dumb idea, but it seemed like I should try one last thing to see if they were home. Or rather, if she was, since I knew Matt wasn't since Cleo [her car] wasn't in the driveway. Nothing but more blacked out windows and the sense that no one would ever mistake their place for home anytime soon.
Since my spidey sense [yeah, I know] was already screaming at me, this did nothing to calm me down. She might be irresponsible and my brother in female form at times, but she's not good at going to complete radio silence. It's just... wrong. However, I know when it's useless, so I stomped back to the car, narrowly avoiding twisting the ankles right royally, grabbed my note for her and went to stick it in her mailbox. Where I realized that there's no door to their mailbox, there's a piece of mail in said box, and it's not even theirs, but it's been forwarded from their apartment, so unless I've fallen through the looking glass, this is proof it's their house.
I went to the side door to shove the note under the door. No go. Good for heating, I guess. Front door, figuring they might eventually notice it, covered in cat pee. Again, no go. Meh. Back to the side where I wedged it in on the side. You can't see it from the interstate or even the road, but they should notice if they continue to use that door more often than the other.
Still, I worry.
Not that it matters, but I've decided that The Missing Frame is definitely my favorite track from decemberunderground.
I haven't heard jack from Arianne since I called about what days I needed to ask off in January. Which would be peachy, except there was the acquisition of the dress and a gift for her, neither of which she's commented on since. You'd think she'd e-mail or call, especially since I've done both, but no. Which is fine. Fine, fine, fine.
Then there's Cass who fell off the planet after the AFI concert. That was the last I heard of her, which doesn't seem like that long ago except Cass is attached to her phone and communication in any way necessary. It's one of those traits that's great and really annoying all rolled into one. Given what I'd last heard *about* her, I took matters into my own hands and set out to stalk her yesterday.
I made it to her house, I'm positive I had the right one, only to find no one home. Which, I suppose is to be expected since it was a weekday [barely] and possibly Matt's payday. But as I went from door to door, peeking at the windows, I realized their house looks completely empty from the outside. The gravel driveway came pretty close to twisting my ankle numerous times. The windows are all blacked out, which is probably a good idea considering the neighborhood, but still plenty creepy despite the sunlight and relative warmth. Perhaps snooping around behind their house was a dumb idea, but it seemed like I should try one last thing to see if they were home. Or rather, if she was, since I knew Matt wasn't since Cleo [her car] wasn't in the driveway. Nothing but more blacked out windows and the sense that no one would ever mistake their place for home anytime soon.
Since my spidey sense [yeah, I know] was already screaming at me, this did nothing to calm me down. She might be irresponsible and my brother in female form at times, but she's not good at going to complete radio silence. It's just... wrong. However, I know when it's useless, so I stomped back to the car, narrowly avoiding twisting the ankles right royally, grabbed my note for her and went to stick it in her mailbox. Where I realized that there's no door to their mailbox, there's a piece of mail in said box, and it's not even theirs, but it's been forwarded from their apartment, so unless I've fallen through the looking glass, this is proof it's their house.
I went to the side door to shove the note under the door. No go. Good for heating, I guess. Front door, figuring they might eventually notice it, covered in cat pee. Again, no go. Meh. Back to the side where I wedged it in on the side. You can't see it from the interstate or even the road, but they should notice if they continue to use that door more often than the other.
Still, I worry.
Not that it matters, but I've decided that The Missing Frame is definitely my favorite track from decemberunderground.