03-17-01

Hi everybody!

What�s up in good old Illinois? According to the weather forecast, more snow for you. I would give my left nut to be back with everyone. I know it�s clich�d, but you really don�t know what you�ve got �til it�s gone. I was so happy there, especially compared to here.

If Illinois is the hole we all thought it was, then Alabama is the third or fourth circle of hell. The grass is always greener, as I now crave the challenge of World Studies. Four months ago, I would have preferred the laid-back insanity of Willie�s general English 10. (Without even trying, I got a 92, the highest grade in the class.)

In an effort to not become attached to anyone/anything, I am being very selective about my friends. As it turns out, I don�t need to worry about becoming too attached to these freaks. Everyone has their own TV movie-of-the-week sob story, and they�re just dying to share it. There is also a lot more promiscuous, blatant sex. The �bitter lesbians� club doesn�t even bother to try hiding in the closet.

And another thing: what is with people being so damned nice? I played along for awhile, but then one day I was my old self again and people wanted to know why I was so mean. If it wasn�t so pathetic, it would be more funny.

We do not have cable, and it doesn�t look like we�ll be getting it anytime soon. The seven channels we do have are not sufficient, but thankfully I have enough pretaped material to get through until May sweeps.

Not long after we moved in, we did get a decent radio station. A Christian music station was bought out (sorry, Matt) and replaced with 101.1 The Spot. It�s like the old Planet 93.5, which came to be under similar circumstances.

Also in radio �news,� I have become a semiregular contributor to the Rollye James Show, which airs weeknights from 9pm � 12am. The show airs across North America, but there is no Quad Cities affiliate yet. You can hear it online at www.rollye.net; any possible future appearances by me will be announced via email (as if you care).

It rains a lot here, sometimes for a whole week. The only downside to that, of course, is it forces the kids to come inside. I also have to walk to school. It�s just down a block and across the street, so it�s not far.

Sparkman High School�s �mascot� is the Senator. Don�t even get me started. Of the four 96-minute classes I have daily, Chemistry is the only even remotely challenging one. I got an 85% for the last quarter.

Since I live so close to the school, I choose to walk rather than ride the bus. School starts at 7:45; the �cheese wagon,� as they call it, stops here at 6:50. That�s about when I get up. I usually watch Good Morning, America whilst I eat. We have this really old weather guy named Adrian. He does not seem to be very bright. His prepositional phrases are unnecessary, as in some of my December fanfic. Para ejemplar: �We could see some rain falling from the sky today...�

My perpetual boredom has necessitated my participation, however miniscule, in some school-sponsored organizations. I am running for junior class treasurer and I am a dues-paying member of the Sparkman chapter of SADD (a.k.a. �Happy�).

The quote-unquote �youth group� at our church-home-away-from-home, Ascension Lutheran Church, meets on Friday nights. I think last night was the third meeting. I was conspicuously absent, for obvious good reasons. (To quote Ed�s glow-in-the-dark board, �Pee Pee Pooh Pooh Bum!� That�s right, BNL. More on that later.) Our �meetings� consist of playing games, such as ping-pong and some Monopoly ripoff called Acquire.

Okay, on to the fun stuff. After sixteen painfully long days of waiting, Barenaked Ladies arrived in Huntsville last night. The torture of trash opening-act �singer� Chantal Kreviazuk was quickly forgotten as the Canadian quintet took the stage for 2 � hours of craziness.

They did all the classic stuff, and a lot from Maroon and Stunt. Just about everyone did a solo and Kevin sang this hilarious song to the tune of �Oops!...I Did It Again.� I could obviously �ramble on for eighteen pages � front and back!� about the No Air Kraft policy or the lack of hardcore BNL fans, but I won�t bore all of you. I will, however, bore some of you who got their own letters.

This is the most I�ve written in a long time (Willie doesn�t grade essays...only paragraphs) and whoever had to read this aloud can see that my handwriting is getting supersloppy, so I�m going to quit while I�m ahead.

They don�t serve breakfast in hell,

Pat

P.S. Write back, EVERYONE!

03-30-01

Hi Matt (& Leslie),

You really should get better at checking your email. I should find a better pen. Since neither is likely to happen, we press on.

Illinois, or your little corner of it anyway, was a blessing in disguise. What masquerades as a shameless, poorly kept tourist �attraction� turns out to be where I left the bulk of my good memories, the place where I came of age (whatever that means), and the place where � despite my parents� best efforts (or maybe because of them) � I learned more than I wanted to about life. Or would that be the definition of a run-on sentence? By the way, I�m stealing that paragraph/sentence for the website, so just know that you got it first.

I understand you have acquired some assistance in the form of assistants, two. I swear that sounded cooler in my head. Make them write to me.

The Alabama equivalent � and I use that word loosely � of Gamma Omega Delta is Youth Friday Night, which is less structured, and therefore makes less sense. I can�t seem myself ever even coming close to caring about these people.

Now it�s time for his-and-hers matching celebrity gossip. Matt: a �Fox insider� quickly dispelled rumors that The Simpsons could be headed out. The X-Files is apparently a different story. Leslie: Matt Perry, who is back in rehab for a crazy combination of booze, cigarettes and Vicodin (a Courtney Love favorite), will (I guess it�s already �did�) return to Friends for Monica and Chandler�s season-finale wedding. This next season will probably be Friends� last.

I�m really not in the mood to discuss family matters, preferring instead maybe some of Courtney Love�s Vicodin. Crap, now I have to write this disclaimer stating that, as I haven�t found a job yet, I can�t afford drugs. You can also rest assured that I will never attempt any activity whose possible outcome is my being a gork in any place (such as Alabama) that I�d rather not spend the rest of my possibly heretofore mentioned pathetic life. That made no sense!

I�ve taken to running recently. I�m not sure why. I could never be a track star, though, because there are no track teams at my school. That is not to say that I�d ever be in a proper physical condition or in a position to have any personal discipline. I�m pretty much done now.

I�m also not much on closings,

Pat

03-30-01

Dear Joe,

I cannot begin to describe how much I miss your unique ability to captivate my interest for at least an hour a week. Alabama turned out to be a lot less interesting than advertised, which has only served to improve my disposition, as I�m sure you can imagine.

We have settled for Ascension Lutheran, in the heart of Huntsville�s Korean Mission Church district. My new Sunday School teacher�s name is Tim. He is single, prematurely bald, and really into Sega Dreamcast, thus explaining the first two. His personality is equivalent to that on an ameoba (finally, a word I can�t spell, but you know I�m talking about that furry little microscopic creature).

I would, however, like to advertise the advantages of an 8:00 service. It�s unbelievable how much longer your day (and thus your weekend) will seem with just that extra hour. It�s great! I often wonder during my Sunday brunch what you�re talking about at that moment. It has to be more interesting than the photocopied �worksheets� I toss aside weekly, much to Tim�s dismay. I�m getting him a comb for his birthday.

It turns out you were right about Ally Walker. Without cable TV, I�ve had to suffer through the Jamie Luner episodes of Profiler, and it�s made me realize that I do have a little bit of a thing for the intellectually superior (if not in terms of acting ability) original �star.� Damn Clifton Campbell, but that�s not a place I want to go right now.

I�ve decided that my dad hates me and I�ve figured out why. My extreme disinterest in sports has confused him. He is unsure what to do with me, so he ignores me for the most part. He is a stubborn asshole with a short fuse and no social skills, a trait I fear may be genetic. Wow. That was kinda fun.

I was sorry to hear that you had lost your job. I can only hope that your ability to predict it cushioned the blow.

Get back to me,

Pat

03-31-01

Dear Richard,

It�s a letter-writing jamboroo for me this weekend, so it looks like you get one too. Before I forget, your mom might want to start her letter-writing campaign to my parents regarding any trips �home� this summer.

The beauty of letters is that they�re much more conspicuous than my emails, which you tend to ignore. But there I go, acting like an ass. I always did that to you, and in retrospect I�m surprised you put up with it for so long. I have a sort of self-destructive psychological defense, I think, where I try to alienate good people before they ditch me. (Yes, I�m on my fourth pen.) You were a truly great friend, and I don�t think I ever told you how much I appreciated you.

I�m watching an old Profiler which is set in Alabama. The stupid hicks are killing prostitutes and burying them in a cave. Meanwhile, Ally Walker, our underappreciated hero, is having a nervous breakdown. They�ve got one in the trunk right now. (A whore, not a nervous breakdown.)

How are things in Glocca Morra? Is Andrea done with her little thing? Has Mindy found a rebound boyfriend yet? That could be something you could do.

The BNL concert was too great for words. Rumor has it that there will be a �Greatest Hits� album and tour this summer. You�ll have to come down for that one.

Our little trailer-library turned out to be okay. We can get pretty much anything transferred in from other libraries, and there are no restrictions on FREE movie checkouts, �R� or otherwise. I start volunteering next week.

It looks like our little country bumpkin serial killers are about to be arrested. Here�s a tip on a good mystery novel series. Sue Grafton writes about private investigator Kinsey Millhone in a series of books: �A� is for Alibi, �B� is for Burglar, etc. She�s already up to �O�. If you�re not going to read them, tell your mom to.

Since I have a lot of letters to write, I�ve been capping these at a page each. Maybe you�ll figure out how to REPLY to an email. (Just kidding.)

TTY later,

Pat