Thursday, September 01, 2005

From Patrick Lewis' journal

From Patrick Lewis' journal
Dec 22, 1985

Winter solstice celebration yesterday. Like I care. I only went because Jason did. Except he gets into it, the goony. And we get picked. He's beaming like it's some great honor. It's only because we're 13, but he doesn't care. He wants to spend MORE time studying weeds and moon phases and bird shit.

He doesn't fool me. He wants the money for tutoring me. I'd bust him except that he lets me read my mags while he does the studying. Then he tells me enough to get by. It's so bogus. Stevie gets guitar lessons. Tom gets to play the bongos. Me, I get to learn the life and times of mushrooms. Like any girl ever got wet talking about fungus.

At least I get to surf again. It's cold as a witch's tit, but I got a new wetsuit for Christmas. Oh yeah, for "solstice", like changing the name of the holiday makes it all secrety and stuff. I'm sure the FBI really cares what you call the fat guy that climbs down chimneys and leaves stuff.

This is so lame, but Mom and Dad won't let me surf unless I pass the druid tests and keep my grades up. So I give Jason an extra buck a week and he tells me what happens in the lame-o English book. Too bad he doesn't need any help in science or I'd make it back.

I wish it weren't raining. I wish Sherry Jameson was my girlfriend. But my new wetsuit is cool.

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