Castaway

I've effectually been sent to bed at 4, and to keep myself from going crazy, I'm just gonna type up as many of my thoughts as possible.

Please just don't read this post. I won't have any friends.

I wonder if I could climb out of my room. But where would I go. Loser.

should a fire turn to dark, take my heart with you

I'm going to be the evil mother-in-law someday.

I'm going to be bald by the end of tonight. I've already lost the chance to cross off today on my chart, and I ripped out an 8-inch chunk of hair.

I hate how my family keeps pointing out how small our house is. That won't make it any bigger. It's so small. Too small. I want to curse about how small it is.

i keep you secretly

Wait. I won't be the evil mother in law. That would mean I'd have to have children. That would mean I'd have to have a husband. That would mean I'd have to find a boy that liked me. That would mean I'd have to find a boy who would ask me on one measly date. I'll be the crazy aunt that would get drunk at normal weddings, but has to settle with hiding in the corner petting cats and holding babies and singing taps while everyone stares at her. Like today.

It's been 21 minutes. I'm a failure.

I wish I was a boy. I could pee out the window when the time comes. I don't think I'm tall enough though, actually. That sucks. If I wasn't afraid of heights, I could pee out of the tree.

Cameron. I miss Cam. At least he hugs me on occasion. That's a lot more than I can say about pretty much everyone on the planet. Has it really only been two days since I saw him? I'm pathetic.

My teeth hurt.

Maybe I should dye my hair black. I'm serious. My roots are showing anyway. Maybe then I'll look creepy and boys will have a legitimate reason to stay away from me. I probably sound like a bitch right now. Maybe because I am one.

The back of my box of Nerds says, "Want to know where WONKA candy comes from? Read all about it in Charlie & the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl." My faith in humanity is restored.

I could live in here forever. I've got food, candy, deodorant, a phone and an iPod and a charger for both, wifi, clothes, a mattress and Snuggy Blanket, and my glasses. It's a good thing I don't have water cuz I still haven't figured out how I'm gonna pee.

This would be a perfect time for you to drive up and catch me when I jump out the window so you can whisk me off to Mexico, Micaiah. Do you remember that? Or have you just completely forgotten about me. You don't care about me. It seems you haven't cared for over a year. Thanks.

Turns out my cat is in here. I'm lucky. I don't have any allergy medicine, but it's okay because I have nothing to drink it down with. Except my pee. I'd rather risk falling to my death to leap into the tree outside.

47 minutes. I'm never gonna survive.

my love, the reason I survive

trust we'll be together soon

should a fire turn to dark, take my heart with you

My face is dangerously close to the socket. What if I fall asleep and drool and electrocute myself?

That reminds me of Monday night of band camp when the storm came and we had to evacuate from outside to in. Logan, Cameron, and I stayed to help the band dads load up percussion. As I ran with one of the boys on either side of me, we skidded to a stop as a lightning bolt struck right in front of us, perhaps only three or four yard lines in front of us. It was so bright, I could see it long after it was gone. At one point, Logan was wheeling a timpani in and Cameron was sprinting back to gather more instruments. Lightning flashed above the building, and I was overcome with the idea of being hit. I saw my skeleton light up through my skin like a cartoon as I screamed and collapsed in the parking lot. I saw the boys' ears perk up as they turned and shouted, trying to see what happened. Logan would burst back through the double doors and Cameron abandon a xylophone as they ran to meet me in the middle, hearing me call out their names. They'd reach me as I went unconscious, my skin burning or purple lines crisscrossing my arms or whatever happens when you get struck by lightening. They'd fall to their knees and try to save me somehow, but there would be nothing they could do. The adults and band kids and a bewildered Caitlin would run out to see the three of us, drowning in a puddle in a parking lot in Delta, struggling to breathe, struggling to die. There was no dramatic kissing or crying or cursing the heavens. No ambulance or priesthood blessings. Not even a death. Just sadness. This entire scenario flashed through my mind before the next burst of lightening, and I found it do entrancing, intriguing, painful.

An hour and sixteen minutes. I am so proud and disappointed in myself.

I listened to Yellowcard's new album in its entirety on YouTube. Thank you, Janelle and Tony. It's grand, and I love it.

I have now eaten all of my Pringles and most of my Nerds. I need real food.

Alex Day is brilliant. As is Charlie.

It has now been three and a half hours, and I am in pain. My teeth hurt so badly, and I should've taken medicine. I'm scared to go there, but I need to drink water and find soft food and use the bathroom. The tree is not an option.

Update: it has now been four hours, I really want to watch some low budget and poorly acted Mormon films, and I'm still scared.