December 19th, Wednesday
I ate lunch with Lincoln today. When I got up, I decided I would try out something I learned in the Law of Attraction book my mom and Jocelyn gave me the day they left for Costa Rica. It said, you have to imagine how you would feel if you were doing the thing you want to do. You have to act like the thing has already happened. So, I did. I spent about twenty minutes imagining that I was eating lunch with someone. And this someone, was a really hot girl who thought I was the most interesting person at Garcia Secondary. She would keep touching my arm and laugh at my jokes, but she would also be a little bit badass, too. Maybe this girl would be wearing Blundstones with a vintage dress, too.
Anyway, I got the lunch date, but not with a hot girl. I got Lincoln instead, but I figured, seeing as I am a beginner with all this new age woo-hoo-ery, it was going to be...you know, baby steps.
I asked Lincoln if he was named after the American President, but he said no, his mother had become knocked up in the back seat of a black 1978 Lincoln Continental in a make out place known to the locals as Knob Hill. There are some things you wish you never knew. This was one of those things. I mean, no one likes to think of their parents having sex, and imagining them having sex in the backseat of cars is just, well, totally ick.
But I laughed, like I thought it was a good story, and then Lincoln told me his sister was called Beatrice, but as far as he knew, was not the result of a sordid backseat liaison. Different dad, though. His mother, he said, had difficulty with relationships. Something to do with trust issues.
I decided that seeing as we were telling each other strange details about our personal lives, I would tell him about Evan Duxbury's grandmother's cyst, along with my impressions of Misty's dad's gallstone collection. But Lincoln didn't seem too impressed. All he said was, Yeah, Norm is kind of weird that way. Back in the 1970s he picked up a dead raccoon off the road and got it stuffed. Did you see it? It sits inside the front door. It has marbles for eyes and one paw that reaches up above its head. Norm puts his truck keys on it.
This bothered me, because I don't remember seeing a stuffed near-sighted raccoon at Misty's house the other night. And I think I would definitely have noticed something like that. So, I just said, Hmmmph, but in actual fact, I think Lincoln might be a bit of an embellisher. In any case, I am going to make it a priority to check out Misty's mud room.
I am also going to finish reading that book about the Law of Attraction. I may as well; there's nothing else to do around here, unless I want to chop wood. And, to be perfectly honest, I don't think my dad wants my help with that anyway. He thinks he's Paul Bunyan the past couple of days. I was watching him chop before dinner. He kept stopping every couple of minutes to make sure his shirt—red and black flannel—was rolled up to reveal what he thinks are vastly impressive biceps. Then he kept looking over at Misty's house. I can't believe he is forty-four years old. I bet he's going to grow a beard.
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THE PECULIAR LANGUAGE OF LLAMASHumor
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