Alguien, Alguien Para Mi

I wrote a letter back to my grandparents this morning. Enclosed with it a short story, and sent it off.

Of course, it’s still sitting in the basement, but in my mind it’s sent off.

Today’s bowling scores: 122 and 92.

The cute girl in my bowling class is named Carla, and I heard her speaking Spanish today. She left early because her team only had two bowlers and so they finished their game in twenty-five minutes. She may have smiled at me several times. I’m unsure.

Update on the “Someone” in my phone - I texted the number with “Who are you?” and received a minute later, “I’m Michele. Who are you?” I don’t know any Micheles. What I’m thinking is that it’s the girl who I was trying to make feel better by getting her to dance, the girl who said she sprained her ankle. I think she was a Michele. Only I can’t for the life of me figure out why she’d give me her number.

Seriously, I’m baffled over this. I usually am very good at remembering all things, inebriated or not. Unless she put the number in my phone? If so, why put herself under “Someone”? That’s stupid.

GOD WHY IS THIS BOTHERING ME SO MUCH.