Perfect.

Meet Adam. (Right)

He is my cousin.

I think I spoke to him for the second time in my life at our family reunion in July. Other than that, the only memory I have of him is putting olives on our fingers at Thanksgiving, about 17 years ago.

He is a not-so-pathological, but convulsive liar.

Sometimes he likes to put scared little girls on a tube tied to a boat and drive 100 mph. In the ocean.

Meet Mike. (Left)

He is my cousin's friend.

I had never spoken to him before last Friday. I have no previous memories of him.

He is also a liar.

Sometimes he likes to try to talk scared little girls into staying on a tube tied to a boat and driving 100 mph. But it doesn't work.

Mike and Adam are my new best friends. The feeling is unrequited. I think it's because of my driving.

They said, "I'm sorry KeKa, we can't be friends. You drive too slow."

I said I understood. Then I told them to put on their seat belts.

But before they broke this news to me, I had--how do I word this?--a perfect weekend.

I think the only way to adequately describe it is to say, for the first time in 15 years, I wasn't sick to my stomach before starting school.

And I should have been sick. I HAD NO CLASSES.

So ya, I think that pretty much wraps it up.

And I should stop there. Because I can't possibly make this anymore funny than it was the first time around.

But I won't.

We went to dinner Saturday night. Adam told the waitress he was from Utah. And that he was a sherpa.

And then Mike colored the best Daisy Dairy Cow that restaurant has ever seen.

And I just sat there with the menu covering my face, squeak laughing the whole time.

And I don't know what else to say.

Except that I parked my car in a tow zone that Saturday night.

How was Jack in the Box ever going to know if I ate there or not?

Jack, in the box, knew.

And he towed my car.

And I came back to an empty parking space where my poor little Lola had once been.

And for a minute I had a panic attack.

And then a minute after that I was not crying. I was laughing.

So I guess what I really want to say is:

Dearest Adam and Mike,

I can never tell you how grateful I am for the kindness you showed me for those 3 days last weekend. From kidnapping me to go tubing, to calling the tow truck, to letting me borrow your keys and get my jacket from your car. Believe me when I say, it is more than I ever expected. I hated to say goodbye, but you people wouldn't stay in Arizona. It has been said before, and I'll say it again, you really were rocks in this time of crisis. Before you go back to your normal lives, I feel I must remind you to always be mindful of your self worth. Please, I beg of you, wear your seat belt. I feel I have done all I can to show you my example and direct you to a path of slow driving, light and righteousness. I will never forget you.

Live strong and prosperous.

Love, from the deepest fathoms of my heart, always and forever,

Alec

P.S. Teamwork. Solid.