Posts by Jonah

(continued in the next post)

(continued in the next post)

(Continued in the next post.)

Well, like I said, I got the note that Larry (the freak) wrote me. It was in
a sealed envelope marked “JOANNA.” The letter inside is scrawled in pencil
on a piece of notebook paper. The date is stamped at the top with the stamp
they use in the library to mark books being checked out. Here’s what it
says:

Joanna <-- Is that how it is? First of all, _I_ don't even know why I'm writing this. I guess cuz our person to person conversation got thrown out the window. Look, I'm writing this in the most sincere and humble way I know how. I don't know if guys are all over you all the time but I was just trying to be nice. I'm not from this country and I don't have many friends, aquintancees <-? plenty but friend definetely few. I swear I'm not trying to come on to you, but your way of carrying yourself is very likable. I know you probably think I'm an idiot but all I want is cool friends and if I only had a chance to prove myself maybe you'd agree to be my friend too. Joanna, I don't know if you were mad that night at someone or whatever, but I apologize if it was something I said. All I want is to be your friend. I even checked your telephone #, but I'd never invade privacy that way. I'm not about that. I hope that you can sway your past feelings towards me and give this kid a break. Well, I hope you haven't ripped this up by now and if you see me cross your path I'd deeply apreciate a smile, hi, whatever. LARRY Hopefully, I got all the spelling errors and stuff included. When I got to the part about my telephone number, I just started laughing loudly in the computer lab where I was reading it this afternoon. I dunno. I indentify with freaks for some reason. Maybe because I've done the pink hair and nose ring thing for a day before. Maybe because I admire them. Maybe because I really don't fit in myself. Maybe because I am one?

I stayed up late again last night talking to people on the Internet. I guess
I finally gave up and went to bed around 3:30 a.m.

My mom walked into my room a few hours later, saying, “Wake up! It’s
morning! I have something for you.” I pulled the covers away from my eyes.
Not that it helped much. I’m virtually blind without my glasses, and I
don’t wear them to bed. “Huh?” I groaned and squinted in what might have
been her direction. “I have something for you!” she repeated, shoving
something in my face. Good thing too. I never would have been able to
successfully focus on it otherwise. In her hand and in front of my nose was
a coffee mug. Inside the mug were three green army figures frozen in
assorted postures of combat. I peered steadily at the mug, the toys, my
mother’s hand, as she started singing, “The best part of waking up is
soldiers in your cup…” I rolled over and flipped the covers back over my
head as mom laughed and left the room.

I guess that’s what I get for throwing a bag of lettuce at my dad last night
and commenting, “That’s tossed salad.”