As I was walking in the door, a very serious sounding, worried message was arriving on my answering machine from my mom. Playback yielded much distress.
So, I did what I normally do, start up ol' Spookbot and try to get online. The default isp # kept ringing busy, so I try and retry for a while. I lost count of reboots in the attempt to resolve the flimflamming connection. Call teh Ninja, who I am supposed to spend the day with, and leave a rather pathetic sounding message. One of those messages where you talk so low so as not to interrupt.. nothing. But you do it anyway. Squeak out the words in a glorified whisper and quick the click as you trail off. Stressy, I decide the best way to wait for the imminent callback is to get high to distract myself. Keep trying to get back online, and now I start getting modem noises on occasion, but each time it times out while trying to verify the verifiables. Time goes by. Attempts are made. Play a little Age of Empires 2 in that whole "By the time I'm able to get on, time will have flown by!" rationale. But I was so torn up with needing to be together and thinking that he probably just thinks I skipped out on our plans that I'm alt-tabing so frequently nothing is flying anywhere. I called again about a half hour after the first one, and as the phone is ringing I see Sprockets rush over to where his coat is hanging from the other night. Ring, peer. Ring, bat. Ring, jump. Ok, so nix on the cellphone. I'll just wait. He has to call me at some point, right? He has to know I can't call him. Many times the computer was turned off, "for a while", to "give it time". "For a while" turned out to be about 3 minutes on average, before I'd break down and reattempt. Open up that notepad file of our icq history (and he claims he's my stalker? Whatever.) and locate his home number, which is busy being online as expected. Several hours of stressing and fretting and offing and oning and trying and failing later and I finally decide to try to just arrive at his place. It's a gated complex with no doorbells, but some of the neighbors tend to leave the gates open, and people seem to be going in and out all the time. I'm all freaky in the car and practically lose and eyeball when a cop car turns behind me and follows me for a few blocks. Just as I'm parking, I see an old woman bent over opening a door halfway up the block.. I didn't shout or rush because I wasn't sure she was at the right place, from my angle. As I get closer I can see that she was, but I don't see her in my immediate vision and don't yell. Look around the street and the courtyard all worriedly and hurriedly. Walked around to the other side of the complex, only to see that same old woman just disappearing into a doorway. Argh. More looking and shifting. Waiting and pacing. Back to the side he lives on and I opt to stand around looking forlorn for a good while before a small stick is obtained and I proceed to demonstrate to all who will look what "throwing like a girl" is really about. Sometimes I hit the wall. Usually, about halfway between the first and second floor. (Second is what I'm aiming for.) Sometimes it goes much higher, but nowhere near the wall. It just flies up and falls back at me. A lot. The more I throw the more I develop a pattern of hitting right in the middle of window level, but about 2 feet to the right, against the wall. Ok, fixable enough. Just move me, and keep throwing the same. Not quite as smooth in execution, but eventually I find my stick-tossing groove and start hitting the window consistently. One kitty arrives on the scene. This is good, even if he can't hear me, kitty attention brings human attention, in time. Second kitty shows his face shortly thereafter, boy can't be too far behind. I'm intermittently excited at making some progress, and that teary-eyed chick throwing a stick at a window.
Finally, a woman approaches and lets me in, laughing with me at the nonsense of the place not having any kind of doorbell outside the gates. A sleep-eyed bed-headed boy greets me, and all is well.