The Defense

**** ALEC'S INTERROGATION REGARDING THE DAY'S EVENTS ****

Living Room Couch.

7:00 a.m.

ALEC: What were you doing at 7:00 this morning?

KYLA: I watched Nickelodeon shows from last night.

ALEC: What shows?

KYLA: The band one.

KENNA: Big Time Rush?

KYLA: Ya. And iCarly. This is embarrassing.

ALEC: How long did this go on?

KYLA: 5 hours.

Alec's Room.

10:30 a.m.

ALEC: Did you really wake up at 10:30?

ALEC: No. Yes. Sort of. I woke up at 5:30. Moved to my bed. Woke up at 7:30. Decided it was too early to start watching TV. Went back to sleep. And woke up at 10:30.

ALEC: Then what did you do?

ALEC: I think I read. A book. About fictional terrorists. Then I put on white shirt # 1.

Kenna's room.

11:30 a.m.

ALEC: Is it true you were the only one who slept in your room for the night?

KENNA: I did sleep in my room.

ALEC: So you aren't denying your disdain for Kyla's and my habbits?

KENNA: What?

ALEC: Repeats latter question.

KENNA: I am not denying that.

ALEC: What did you do throughout the morning/ afternoon?

KENNA: *Blank stare* I don't remember. (Henceforth I will use italics to refer to anything spoken in a British accent.)

KYLA: You watched Cadet Kelly.

KENNA: Two minutes of it. Then I watched MTVs Sweet Sixteen Biggest Bash Countdown, while also watching Extreme Resorts and Extreme Water Parks. There was also a countdown of Say Yes to the Dress.

Under the fridge.

11:32 a.m.

Scorpion: *Sitting*

Harkins Theaters.

2:10 p.m.

ALEC: Did you make it on time for Shrek?

KYLA: Yes. I even saw some of the previews for the previews.

ALEC: When was the last time you made it on time for a movie?

KYLA: *Thinks for a LONG time* March 18th.

ALEC: Do you have a witness that could confirm your alibi?

KYLA: Yes.

Yogurt Land.

2:11 p.m.

ALEC: I thought you were cutting back the sugar.

ALEC: Nope.

ALEC: Good to hear.

ALEC: Yep.

Kenna's Room

3:00 p.m.

ALEC: What were you doing?

KENNA: I'm pretty sure I was still watching all my countdown's at that time.

Under the Fridge.

3:02 p.m.

SCORPION: *Sitting. Planning.*

Kenna's Room.

5:30 p.m.

ALEC: What were you doing?

KENNA: Probably still watching my countdowns. Or I was on Facebook.

(Later adds she was cleaning her room.)

Living Room Couch.

5:30 p.m.

ALEC: What were you doing.

ALEC: I got a phone call. It was from Kyla. She needed me to bail her out of jail.

Just kidding. She needed me to pick her up from the mall.

So I put on white t-shirt # 2

Mall

5:45 p.m.

ALEC: Did you notice I was wearing a different white t-shirt?

KYLA: Definitely not.

ALEC: Great. Did you enjoy Shrek the 4th final chapter that may make a reappearance in year 2030?

KYLA: That's debatable.

ALEC: Do you have an alibi that could confirm you were not in fact in jail?

KYLA: Yes.

Under the Fridge.

5:45 p.m.

SCORPION: *Sitting. Planning. Scheming.*

**** ACTUAL DIALOGUE ****

Computer Room.

7:00 p.m.

KENNA: I'm Hungry. Let's order pizza.

ALEC: Let's not. Then I'll eat it.

Kitchen

7:30 p.m.

ALEC : Let's order pizza.

KENNA: What kind do you want?

ALEC: Vegetarian.

KENNA: No, what brand.

(Insert long conversation about the pros and cons of Hungry Howies v. Papa Johns.)

(Also, insert 14 fruitless games of noes goes.)

Computer Room

7:45 p.m.

(Kenna orders pizza. Notes that it will be ready in 15-30 minutes.)

Computer Room

7:47 p.m. - 8:10 p.m.

(Job Search.)

(Alec changes into white t-shirt # 3).

Blockbuster

8:15 p.m.

ALEC: Well these movies don't look interesting.

KYLA: Let's get a Mary Kate & Ashley movie.

ALEC: Well these movies don't look interesting.

KENNA: How about we get a Mary Kate & Ashley movie.

ALEC: Okay, how about Pirate Radio?

KENNA & KYLA: *Blank stares.*

ALEC: They don't have Prison Break here. Let's leave.

BLOCKBUSTER EMPLOYEE 1: Is there anything I can help you with?

ALEC: No. Thank you!

ALEC: Oh. They do have Prison Break here!

(Insert more annoyed chatter about movies that might be worth 2 hours of our lives)

KYLA: What about Definitely, Maybe.

KENNA: Winner.

BLOCKBUSTER EMPLOYEE 2: You have a $50 credit on your account.

ALEC: WHAAAA?

BLOCKBUSTER EMPLOYEE 2: You might want to look into that.

(Leave Blockbuster)

8:40 p.m.

Fry's

8:43 p.m.

KENNA: The pizza was ready 30 minutes ago.

ALEC: What do you want to drink?

KENNA: Rootbeer.

ALEC: They don't have Barq's. We'll have to get A&W.

KENNA: %$(*#Q*&$

Papa John's

9:03 p.m.

ALEC: Do you still have our pizza?

Papa John's Employee #1: Yes.

KENNA: It's under Jennifer.

PAPA JOHN'S EMPLOYEE #1: *Confused Stare*

KENNA: No wait. It's under Kenna.

KENNA (Cont.): Oooohhh they have Barq's Rootbeer.

ALEC: We'll take one of those, too.

Under the Fridge

9:04 p.m.

SCORPION: *Still sitting. Planning. Scheming. Getting ready to escape.*

**** To save on time, a brief description, rather than a word-for-word recount, of the evening****

We watch the movie.

Eat the pizza.

Drink the Barq's rootbeer.

Consider swimming.

Turn on Toy Story.

Bake a cake.

Frost a cake.

Try to convince in-convincible sisters to eat cake.

Throw away a different cake.

Change the channel.

Watch a show about a monkey with a disease.

Watch My Big Fat Greek Wedding on commercials.

Find a new book to read. One that is not about fictional terrorists.

Lose Kyla to sleep.

Lose Kenna to a messy room.

Lose Alec to a near sugar comma.

**** Back to Alec's Interrogation ****

Kitchen 2:00 a.m.

ALEC: What exactly happened before you screamed quote SCORPION unquote?

KENNA: I was walking out to get a garbage bag so I could clean my room, when I saw a scorpion.

ALEC: Could you please describe the location of said SCORPION?

KENNA: By the fridge.

ALEC: Did it look menacing? If so, please clarify.

KENNA: Yes. When I got close to it its tail went into attack motion. *Tears up* (Shows hooked finger to demonstrate position of tail.)

ALEC: Kyla, was it true you were asleep through this traumatic experience?

KYLA: No because I kept hearing AHHH!

ALEC: Is it true that you pretended to stay asleep so that you would not have to help with the situation?

KYLA: No. *Stalls* I woke up through the AHHHs! and fell asleep through the killing part.

ALEC: Likely story. Is it true, just a few weeks prior you found yourself alone with a similar perpetrator?

KYLA: Yes. It was scary. I was all alone.

ALEC: What did you do?

KYLA: Went to get a shoe. Got scared. Went under--well, it [the scorpion] went under the couch.

ALEC: Is it true Roxy may have saved your life by warning you about the invader?

KYLA: No, she just made me more scared.

ALEC: Is it possible that this was the same offender?

KYLA: Probably not.

ALEC: Is is true you were kind of a sissy through this whole scenario?

ALEC: No comment.

Kitchen.

2:02 a.m.

SCORPION: *Out from under the fridge. Possibly regretting its decision to escape on a night when everyone is hyped up on the caffeine from Barq's rootbeer.*

**** ACTUAL DIALOGUE ****

KENNA: SCORPION!

ALEC: Crap. What are we going to do?

KENNA: (Holding a shoe) Kill it.

ALEC: (Holding a shoe) It's never going to work.

KENNA: Maybe I can put on my running shoes and stomp it.

ALEC: What if it runs under the fridge. I think we should torch it.

KENNA: (Pulling a chair near the fridge) I don't think that's a good idea.

ALEC: Seriously. What do you think would happen if we just torched the tile a bit?

KENNA: What if we drop the shoe on it?

ALEC: (Leaves. Goes to the garage. Finds a hammer. Wonders if the hammer would break the tile. Goes back to the kitchen.)

KENNA: (Sits on the chair. Shoe raised.)

ALEC: We have to kill it.

KENNA: Yep.

ALEC: Maybe we could vacuum it.

(Later finds out that scorpions can crawl out of the vacuum.)

KENNA: I don't think we could get it fast enough.

ALEC: (Leaves. Makes second trip to garage. Finds a dirt devil. Brings it inside.) I don't know how strong it is. *Shrugs*

KENNA: I don't think that's going to work.

SCORPION: *Raises tail in the air menacingly.*

KENNA: *Slams shoes down on scorpion with great force.*

ALEC: *Makes a mental note to be more like Kenna.* Is it dead?

KENNA: I don't know. Its tail isn't moving. (Lifts shoe to see if scorpion is dead)

ALEC: (Screams)

KENNA: (Slams shoe down on scorpion again.)

ALEC: Is it dead?

KENNA: I don't know. Now I can't see its tail. The shoe is covering it. (Lifts shoe but flinches.)

ALEC & KENNA: (Scream)

Living Room Couch.

2:30 a.m.

KYLA: (Lifts head from couch). Alec, you're going to get arrested.

KENNA & ALEC: Laugh.

KYLA: No it's relevant.

((Side Note: It actually was relevant. Sort of.))

Kitchen.

2:32 a.m.

KENNA: I just want to take it outside.

ALEC: Do you want me to pull the chair while you pull the shoe with the allegedly dead scorpion attached?

KENNA: Kind of.

ALEC: (Pulls chair. Too far.)

KENNA: Push me closer.

Kitchen

2:35 a.m.

(Plan Fails)

Kitchen

2:37 a.m.

KENNA: Can we vacuum it up now?

ALEC: I don't know if we should. I'll Google it. (Googles.) Seems fine.

KENNA: (Tries to vacuum. Squishes allegedly dead scorpion to floor.)

Living Room Couch

2:42 a.m.

KYLA: (Offers to clean up scorpion with paper towel. Tries to throw it at Alec. Tries to flush the entire thing down the toilet.)

KENNA & ALEC: You can't flush the paper towel!

KENNA: Take it out to the big garbage.

KYLA: There's scorpions out there though!

ALEC: I'll go with you. Just let me wash my hands.

Trash Can

2:59 a.m.

SCORPION: *wrapped in a paper towel in the bottom of a black trash can.*

Alec's Room

3:00 a.m.

ALEC: (Realizes she has frosting on white t-shirt # 3)

Kenna's Room

4:29 a.m.

ALEC, KENNA & KYLA: (Finish Disclosure.)

- END-

See attached documents for photographic evidence.

My name is Alec.

I am a lucky girl.

I know this about myself from years of observation.

***

When I was 8, I had life figured out.

Brush your teeth, say your prayers, get straight A's.

I knew who I was.

I liked pants from Gap. I was going to be a marine biologist. I was the smart one. The best swimmer in swimming lessons. An excited piano player. A good student. A good friend. A good person (who wondered if there was a summer break from church).

Some days I was happy.

Other days I was sad.

But I knew, if I followed the black and white rules of life, I would accomplish my dream.

And I would never fall into the dooming category of mediocrity.

***

As I got older, and met better swimmers, better students, prettier girls, more devout church members, and piano students who didn't ruin piano recitals, the image I had of myself slowly began to disintegrate.

And then.

I was too fat.

My eyes were the wrong color.

I wasn't smart enough.

I wasn't strong enough.

My teeth were too yellow.

My hair was too flat.

Some people had better skin than me.

My clothes from Target weren't cutting it.

My nails were too short.

My fingers were too long.

I wasn't outgoing enough.

Or studious enough.

Or brave enough.

Or respectful enough.

In short, I wasn't enough.

Suddenly, an 8 year old's secrets to life just weren't cutting it anymore.

And when I could no longer solve the world's problems--my problems--with straight A's and Koolaid, I lost myself a little.

***

Today, I remembered.

For a minute.

I saw myself as a person, as a dreamer, as a potential.

Today, I'm just a girl who thinks maybe, someday, people will remember that life is about love.

Finding it.

Sharing it.

Holding it.

Remembering.

Giving it.

Today.

My name is Alec.

I am a college graduate.

And a lucky girl.

***

There a few people who I need to thank for letting me have today.

First my parents.

I have cried to my mom so many times in the last four years.

I have cried about leaving.

I have cried about staying.

I have cried about writing.

About winning.

About losing.

About being lost.

About being really lost.

And I didn't know it for a long time, but when I hung up the phone and moved on after a good cry, she held on to the sadness.

I don't know if I would have finished those papers without giving her my sadness.

I don't know if I would have gotten over losing without crying on the phone.

Maybe I would have barreled through.

Or maybe not.

What I do know, is she--my mom--made it easier.

And I need to thank her.

For being a good listener.

For loving me.

For holding me.

For helping me make it through.

Day by day.

One "it'll all work out" at a time.

Thank you.

And then there's my dad, who multiple times has had to remind me about reality.

One day, junior year of high school, on a drive to Utah, he asked me:

"What do you want to do for the rest of your life?"

My answer was serious.

"I'm going to open an amusement park."

"Okay..." he said, in that way that means: you can if you want, but are you sure?. "So what are you going to major in?"

"Business."

After more discussing, I realized I loved to write. I realized I wanted a more exciting life than a business major could probably get me. And all of a sudden I had a life plan and a major I knew I wouldn't change--

Journalism.

And even though I question whether journalism is something I want to do with the rest of my life, I wouldn't change my major even if I have a free do-over card.

It taught me who to make a phone call.

How to talk to strangers.

And how to pull off being nosy while making it look professional.

It was exactly what I needed.

He also was the one who sat down with me, and bought me a plane ticket almost a year ago.

Argentina. July 28. 2009.

In the last year, I have looked back to that trip at least 5 times.

When I feel scared, I remember being brave.

When I feel unlucky, I remember being blessed.

When I feel faithless, I remember faith and its power and its unfailingness.

I need to thank my dad.

For believing me when I said I needed to go to another country, all by myself, with half-a-command of the language and barely a plan to speak of.

I need to thank him for helping me get there.

And, ultimately, for helping me get here. To today. To graduation. And whatever is next.

Thank you Dad.

***

I can't thank my sisters here.

I have too much to say.

I will say that I have loved hanging out with them this semester.

Whether that was at stupid, depressing movies 10 (okay 20) minutes late.

Or at 2 a.m. in the computer room as we laughed about our lives as students.

I loved the time I spent with them.

And I'm so glad we're friends.

***

I need to thank my 6th grade teacher.

For throwing a 6th grade reunion.

And for being a great teacher.

And for always, even now, being a teacher who cares.

Thank you, Mrs. Foster.

I need to thank my 11th grade English teacher, Mr. Sapakie.

Because he made me realized that I could write.

And he made me think.

And he was one of the first people who made me step outside of my box and see the world in a different way.

He also taught me that caring is being a Democrat.

Which is probably why I am registered as an independent instead of a Republican.

In his class I found a writing style.

And for the first time since third grade, I thought maybe this--writing--was something I could love.

And then there's Professor Wimmer.

Who put up with me more times than any one person should.

And who, whether he knew it or not, was my chosen mentor.

He made me love journalism when I wanted to hate it.

And, whether he knows it or not, that is the best compliment I can give.

There are also fifty-some other teachers that I need to thank. Mrs. Lindsay for advising Yearbook. Mrs. Madill for making me love school so much that I cried when spring break came. Mr. Yazwa for teaching me how to play chess and helping my group win Battle of the Books. Seventh grade teachers who made Willis less awful. So on and so forth...

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

***

Okay.

Chesca & Brett.

Thank you for staying my friends.

Since high school.

Thank you for inviting me, even though I said "no" more than "yes".

Thank you for waiting for me, even though you had waited enough.

Thank you for being my friends.

Thank you for riding X3 with me.

Thank you for not falling out on Goliath.

Thank you for wearing your halloween costume to Olive Garden on Halloween night.

Thanks for staying my friends. I know it was hard sometimes.

Alicia.

Thank you for letting me cry to you at 2 a.m. even though you had work the next morning.

I would list more.

But if that sentence doesn't tell people what a good friend you are, they don't deserve to hear the rest of the reasons.

Today I watched Grey's Anatomy.

Meredith built a room for Christina in her house.

I thought of you.

Because I think we'll be best friends forever.

Next I have to thank Melissa and Neha.

My first roommates.

Without them, I would probably still be trying to decide which university I should go to.

Thank you for making me believe I had already committed to going to U of A.

Thank you for going to orientation with me.

Thank you for making me feel like I wasn't in this whole lonely deal alone.

To my current roommates:

Jillie, thank you for reminding me to party every now and again. And for canceling cable. And for going to that terrible Mexican restaurant with me.

Kelsey, thank you for hot chocolate runs and midnight walks during finals week. I don't know where I would be without them.

Back to friends:

Troy thank you for texting me at 2 a.m. (You owe me $10.) Please come back to America. I will miss you otherwise.

Josh thank you for inviting me to things in Chandler even when I lived in Tucson. Thanks for coming later than me to church that one time. And thanks for that awesome letter you sent me while you were on your mission. (You may not remember it, but I do. It came at a time when I need it, so thanks.)

Pete, Chis, and Brad. Thank you for the parties. (Brad thank you for the eloquent and inspired words on Sunday nights.) (P.S. Happy birthday Pete and Brad.)

Steve and Brandon. Thank you for inviting me to my first concert as an adult. Drowning Pool. Great show.

Brooke, Brian, Scott. You were my first friends in Tucson. Thanks for introducing me to 30 Rock. Thanks for guitar lessons and sing-a-longs. And mostly, thanks for taking me in.

***

The graduation speakers today and yesterday reminded us to thank the people who got us here.

They let us stand up and applaud our friends and family.

I was grateful for a moment to cheer for the people who have never left my side.

I've often thought (usually in the middle of the night) that I owe the universe a thank you card.

I could write hundreds.

To all the people who have left some sort of mark on my life.

From Catherine Ryan Hyde (the author of Pay it Forward) to my kindergarten next door neighbor Jeff, so many people have helped me figure out who I am, and, who I want to be.

Tomorrow I might think I'm not smart enough.

Not brave enough.

Not outgoing enough.

But today, I'm just a girl.

Who is loved.

Enough.

So to all the people who have shown love somewhere along the way--

Thank you.

Thanks to you,

I feel really lucky.

I only said I wanted insomnia when I thought it would help me get good grades

I can't sleep.

Because:

a. Roxy snores loud.

b. I'm ticked off.

And so I'm eating cereal and watching Parks and Recreation until it's a normal hour to start doing homework.

That's all.

Umm... Oops.

RSS Feeders (who apparently get my posts, even after I delete them),

Please disregard that last post.

I was brainstorming. For this project I'm working on.

And I was brainstorming on my blog because, frankly, I'm sick of looking at Microsoft Word documents.

(Just FYI, Word is like the most judgmental program on the planet. Flesch-Kincaid Grade Level: 2nd grade. Passive sentences: 105%. Word Count: 10. Thank you, Microsoft, as if I didn't already understand this paper is highly inadequate.)

Anyway, I pressed enter one too many times, and all the sudden my incoherent nonsense was posted on the internet.

And I did not mean to announce to the world in such an uncensored way that if I was ever handed a gun I would probably (accidentally) shoot myself.

(...That's embarrassing.)

It's not like I've never shot a gun before.

I'm just saying, if left unsupervised, the combination of me and a BB gun could be very dangerous.

And yes, Mrs. Parker, I would probably shoot my eye out.

I will no longer be using unpublished blog posts for the purpose of brainstorming.

Thank you and have a good afternoon.

Wireless 4.9.10

Question:

Have you ever been sitting in your car, innocently listening to the radio, when a song comes on that you happened to be listening to 4 years ago when you were driving to school the day that you were going to Sunsplash in order to celebrate your seniorhood and impressive school spirit, and then, suddenly, you get taken back to that very moment and you feel like you're 17 again and like you should be wearing a bikini under 5 layers of appropriate coverups while carrying a beach towel and a calculus book?

Or you know, have you had some similar experience?

Because that happens to me every time O.A.R.'s song about love and memories comes on.

This isn't actually about O.A.R.'s song.

It's actually about the library.

And about how I came to the library to get bordering-on-obsessive amounts of work done.

And about how as I sit in the middle of this library working center, getting bordering-on-lame amounts of work done, I think I am experiencing what it might be like to have your life flash before your eyes.

(I hope this is not some sort of cruel confirmation of my hypochondriac fears that I am slowly dying with absolutely no symptoms of my pending doom.)

Anyhow, back to my happy reminicising at the library...

There is a kid outside the window. He is running along the low walls that were built as decoration maybe 14 years ago. At one spot there is a gap that separates two parts of the same wall.

The boy is running, full speed ahead, and then stopping right as he gets to the edge of the gap.

I did that when I was 9, too.

I only jumped once. And to that day, it was the bravest thing I had ever done. Except maybe hanging upside down on the monkey bars.

Unfortunately for anyone dedicated to reading this entire post, my library memories don't stop there.

Somewhere in a room upstairs, I attended a book club where I read some book that taught me to jump in the water should I be chased by a hive of bees. And that's important information. You never know when you're going to be chased by a hive of bees. Just saying.

We also read a book that did not contain important information, as far as I could decipher, which should have been titled "Hansel and Grettle on Crack." I don't remember the actual title. But I do remember it was a creepy book with demons and words that were way out of my vocabulary capabilities. I think, maybe, I eventually just read the last chapter and called it good.

Also, at that bookclub I was introduced to a person who was also named Alec. It was a baby. And a boy. I thought, well that's weird. And so began a life long pursuit to establish the name Alec as an acceptable girl's name. Just kidding. Nothing began in that moment except a vague curiosity as to what type of parents would name a boy Alec. Okay, maybe not that either. I just thought it was weird to meet another human named Alec, particularly since he was nothing like me. After all, he was a boy. And a baby.

Still not done. I spent a good portion of my childhood at the library. Apparently.

One time I went to a mineral show at the library. It was boring. I think, perhaps, my mother needed some quiet time that day. Or maybe she just remembered how much I loved rocks. She should have known I didn't actually love rocks, I loved those little black bags that you fill up with rocks at the grand canyon.

No wait. I loved rocks, too. I am now remembering a series of unfortunate years filled with rock pets and rock collections.

Maybe that library event wasn't boring after all. And maybe I should have been a geologist. Or an Etsy shop owner. (You might be thinking it's not too late for that last one. But you would be wrong. Turns out someone already has claim to the rock pet business.)

Then there were the hours I spent searching for the book called Fudge. (Not Super Fudge.) This Fudge is about a dog.

I love that book. It still gives me warm fuzzies. And I can't even remember what it's about. Except there was a puppy. And maybe a boy named Charlie. (Or maybe now I'm thinking about Charlie's chocolate factory...) Both were good books. But only one gives me warm fuzzies.

Moving on.

One of the happiest days of my life happened because of the library.

It was the day I lost my library card.

I was so sick of looking at the ugly signature on the back of that card that I signed when I was barely 6. When I lost the card, and paid a dollar, it was like a chance to start all over. To make a new name for myself. To no longer be the 11-year-old who writes like a first grader.

The second time around, I signed that card so carefully that I consider it something of a miracle that I didn't mess up. I still have that library card. Somewhere around here. It's really a beautiful signature. I would scan it for you all if I could find the thing.

The last memory on my trip to library lane is the hours my best friend and I spent studying for AP tests at the library, on the comfy chairs, with smoothies made mostly out of artificial fruit juice and whipped creme.

I feel like I should make this some sort of political statement about funding for libraries.

But it's not.

It's just about how it's weird to grow up.

I mean, one minute you're sitting in a library looking for a Junie B. Jones book that you haven't read yet, and a second later you're reading every book google has to offer about World War II journalism as you try desperately to finish a thesis and graduate college.

It's weird.

Like almost as weird as meeting another human named Alec. Who is a boy. And a baby.

Question:

Have you ever heard that song by Miranda Lambert about the house that built her?

She sings about how she just needs to go inside and get a memory. That a simple memory might be enough to set her back on track.

I know what she means.

I hope that library stays around forever.

Someday, I may need to go and sit in a big room and look out the window and see kids play on the wall outside.

And I'm might need to drink a mostly-made-out-of-corn-syrup smoothie.

And someday, when I can't remember how I got to where I am, I might need to sit in the library and spend some time trying to remember.

Because, you know, sometimes, I need to go back to that place where I'm 9-years-old again.

And remember.

A Note to my Immune System

I'm sorry if you missed the memo, but this is go time.

Last month I gave you plenty of opportunities for head colds and flu symptoms.

Let's be honest, there were days last month when I begged you for a 24-hour sickness and a reason to knock myself out with NyQuil.

But last month is over, and now I need you to happily accept my offerings of vitamin C and whatever the heck is in cucumber juice, and get me through to May 14 on nine combined hours of sleep with minimal headaches.

Got it?

I promise to dig up some echinacea, if you promise to unfog my head for long enough to finish this story.

I don't know why, but the fact that my ears are clogged is seriously inhibiting my ability to form a coherent, 800 word story out of 20 pages worth of notebook scribbles.

So, since I've already spent most of the day lying on the floor, trying to type over my pillow and forget about the dull pounding in my head, I think we can both agree that three hours of smooth sailing is more than fair.

Also, I don't mean to be overly demanding, but I really need you to have this little mess cleared up by tomorrow.

My symptoms aren't severe and I've only eaten 379 grams of sugar today, so I think my request is reasonable.

If you'd like, I'll even throw some Zicam into the deal.

Even though it tastes like chalk.

Love always (seriously, you're the best immune system anyone could ever ask for),

Alec

Saturday

No sudden movements.

Stay low to the ground.

And worse case scenario, run.

When someone left the house this morning, they set the alarm for "away" instead of "stay."

Rather than yell out, "Hello! I'm still here! In my bed! I'm NOT going away."

I decided to take this opportunity to test out the house's motion sensors.

I've been lying very still for the last 10 minutes. (Which, really, is no feat, since I would have done that anyway. I need a few minutes in the morning to ponder life before i plunge into it. It's one of my fatal flaws.)

Anyhow, things were just about to get interesting , on account of I have to use the bathroom.

But then whoever left thinking everyone was away, came home and unset the alarm before I even had a chance to outsmart it.

I know. Bummer.

I was really looking forward to doing some gymnastics down the hallway to avoid the invisible lasers.

And to crawling through the kitchen, pretending to talk to the CIA via an implanted cavity.

And then, when I inevitably failed to delude the evil motion sensors, I was excited about those 45 seconds I would have to defuse the beeping alarm system with a special code that only I could figure out in that short amount of time.

Oh well.

Maybe another day.