TWENTY-EIGHT - Don't Stop Believin', or, Life is a Journey...Song

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I've sent Ivy, like, one-hundred texts, but she hasn't answered any of them. And here I thought she was a progressive thinking person! Wow. So not fair. I try to console someone who is clearly having a rough moment, and now I'm the bad guy? Ivy didn't even give me a chance to explain! Not that I should have to.

By lunch time I gave up and threw my phone on my bed. I could see Misty outside with Desmond, so I thought, what the hell, she's obviously a woman with a colourful romantic history-it couldn't hurt to go out and see what she thought about this stupid debacle.

When I got outside, Misty had her arm around Desmond's neck and was singing to him. I recognized the song right away: "Don't Stop Believin'," by Journey. The reason I know this is because it has always been one of my mother's favourite songs. Not gonna lie, I got a bit of a lump in my throat as soon as I heard Misty singing it, because it made me remember how Mom belted that one out when she drove me to my school's Valentine's Day dance back in the 7th grade. She'd wanted to fill me with hope and wonder, because Emily Mathers, (this girl I'd had a huge crush on), had sort of agreed to go with me, which was a pretty major event for a total nerd like me. And while, to this day, I still appreciate Mom's thoughtful gesture, the dance had ended up being a total disaster. I'd spilled punch in the crotch of my pants, and Emily had ended up slow dancing every song with Colton Emery, a Neanderthal who had hit puberty in the third grade and already had facial hair. I couldn't compete with that, so I'd just hung out with my friend Ryan, drawing slightly inappropriate cartoons on the stalls in the boys' washroom with a black Sharpie. Yeah. Fun times.

Misty told me that I just needed to let it all go; that Ivy was just needing to sulk because she really liked me and was jealous. She said that Ivy would see the light and realize she had been too quick to judge, and I said, was this one of those, "Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus" moments? And Misty said that old book had been largely debunked, and this was just, you know, "life in the food chain."

She went back to singing Journey songs to Desmond-this time it was, "Who's Crying Now." I forgot about the fact that I am normally reserved by nature, and started to sing along, too. And that's when Desmond joined in, making odd little squawks and rumbles, and when he pushed against me with his shaggy head, I swear to God he was totally into it. Misty said he'd been raised on Journey, and old classic rock in general, because of Norm, who likes to play it really loud in the barn when he's working on the old Morris Minor. (Which, by the way, he hates, because it is a British car, and he says British cars are always piles of crap. I did not know this, although I did know that Brits are notorious for preparing less-than-delicious cuisine.)

So, it's almost seven p.m. now, and still no word from Ivy. I did, however, get a text from Ryan again, who tells me he has now mastered every level on Portal of Darkness. I congratulated him, but I am highly skeptical because Ryan has the hand-eye coordination of a sloth.

On another note, I feel bad about dissing Peterson in my journal yesterday, so I made it a priority to place him in the window this morning so he could have something to "look" at throughout the day. Silly, I know, but I want to honour his raccoon spirit. I feel good about doing that, and it was pretty awesome to be singing Journey songs outside with Misty and her peculiar llama, and then look over to see Peterson staring at us from behind the glass, his little raccoon fist raised in mammalian solidarity.

Gotta love that little dude.

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