by Alyson Noel
U can just stick it in UR trunk, or a nearby trash can, or whatever.
Thanks,
Colby
P.S. Um, any news on Levi & if he’s still going on that cruise? Lemme know, bcuz I still haven’t heard from him & IV been Idering!?
Write back, plz!
Colby’s Journal for Desperate Times When Life Becomes a Roller Coaster That Will Not Stop or Slow Down
July 8
I don’t get it. I seriously do not get it. I mean, first I’m totally hating my life, and am more than happy to focus on the bad things—which admittedly, is pretty much everything here. But then one day, I wake up, take a look around, and decide to stop fighting it, decide to stop acting like such a big whiny loser, and start participating around the house (mostly because time goes by faster when you’re busy) and try to show a little gratitude toward Tally and Tassos so they won’t think I’m a complete and total burden.
And then, shortly after that, I meet a completely dreamy local named Yannis, who almost makes me forget about Levi, and who also, at least from what I could tell, seemed to like me too.
And I’m thinking—yipee!
Things are finally looking up!
Maybe it’s true what Tally and Tassos always say—that happy attracts happy—or however they put it.
But then, just as I’m starting to smile again, I get an e-mail from Natalie Zippenhoffer, my former best friend since second grade turned girl I no longer talk to much less acknowledge. And she’s all too happy to inform me that my HOUSE IS FOR SALE!
Okay, to be fair, I don’t really know that she was happy. Because there’s a part of me that thinks she might’ve just been concerned, which, if that’s the case, then I feel even worse for way too many reasons to mention.
But what I do know is this:
One moment I was riding high!
And the next I’m completely homeless.
And trust me, that is not an exaggeration, because the fact is not only has my mom recently exhibited some very bad decision-making skills, but when I asked her just what she had in mind for us after the sale, just where she envisioned the two of us living—she answered with a verbal shrug. Which basically amounted to a couple of ums, followed by some throat clearing and we’ll sees, along with a bunch of statistical nonsense about median home prices in Orange County, mortgage rates, and blah, blah, blah. All of which pretty much translates to—Gee, Colby, I don’t really know what will become of you. I hadn’t really thought about it until you just now brought it up!
And then just as I thought it couldn’t get any worse, she tosses something in there about moving to ARIZONA! Just dropped it right in there, as though I wouldn’t even notice.
And just for the record, I AM NOT MOVING TO ARIZONA!
There’s just no way.
I WON’T do it.
She CANNOT make me.
And as for Yannis? Well, I haven’t seen or heard from him since the Fourth of July party, which means I am an even worse judge of these things than I thought, because I really was convinced that he just might kinda like me. But then again, when I think back on the colossal mistake I made with Levi (which is pretty much all the time since I really can’t stop thinking about it, even though I truly wish I could), I guess I shouldn’t be all that surprised.
All I really know for sure is that this “happy gets happy” nonsense is a total crock of crap.
Cruel Summer
Blog Comments:
Anonymous said:
Why do you call it Cruel Summer?
Do you really hate Tinos that much?
From someone who cares.
ColbyCat said:
It’s after a song from the eighties, by some all-girl band called Bananarama. But you already knew that since your mom used to play it when she cleaned the house.
Yes, I know this is YOU, Natalie. So why don’t you just come clean and show yourself already! This is so freaking lame.
Anonymous said:
I’m definitely not Natalie, though her mom sounds cool!
Maybe you should stop blogging so much and get out more. You might have more fun. Just a thought.
Sorry you think I am both dumb and lame.
ColbyCat Said:
“GET OUT MORE”?
I should’ve known it was YOU, Petros.
So allow me to remind you that I am your VERY BEST customer, and without me, where would you be?
Maybe you should spend your next siesta trying to sharpen your customer service skills.
Seriously. Please think about it. It really couldn’t hurt.
Anonymous said:
No, I’m definitely not Petros either.
Who’s Petros?
Should I be jealous?
Colby’s Journal for Desperate Times When Life Becomes So Unbelievably Good Again She Can’t Possibly Put It in Her Blog
July 9
OMG—I now know who ANONYMOUS is!
It’s Levi Bonham!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I mean, who else could it be?
Obviously he hasn’t written or e-mailed because he’s too busy playing blog comment games, trying to figure out if I’ve met someone he should be jealous of! Which means he didn’t forget me! Which also means I can stop torturing myself for making a huge error in judgment, because obviously, I didn’t!
And even though I know it sounds crazy and delusional, here’s the proof:
1) It’s not Natalie because she’s too honest, too straightforward, too in-your-face to play games like that.
2) It’s not my mom because she doesn’t even know how to turn the computer on much less post a comment.
3) It’s not Amanda because she can’t even be bothered to e-mail me back much less comment on my blog. Besides, that kind of blog banter just isn’t her thing.
4) It’s not my dad because he’s too annoyed with me and my letters to actually take the time to joke around with me.
5) It’s not anyone in Tinos because the only one who even knows about my blog is Petros and his English is pretty limited. And Tally and Tassos don’t even have access to a computer.
6) So basically, the only possibility left is Levi! And even though he can’t really carry on a conversation in person, I’m willing to bet that like most people, he’s better on paper (or in this case, on screen).
But before I make my next move (or, um, post), I have to think very carefully about how to proceed. I mean, I could:
1) Continue as usual, blogging about all the usual, boring, mundane things I do here, acting as though I have no idea that LEVI BONHAM IS READING MY BLOG. And then, each time he decides to leave a comment, I’ll pretend like I think it’s just about everyone BUT him, until he eventually gives up and reveals himself, then we can both enjoy a good laugh about it when he comes to visit me on his cruise!
2) I lie. Which basically means I start blogging about a life that’s a whole lot better than the one I’m actually living. And then, when he comments, I pretend like I think he’s just one of the many gorgeous, hot Greek guys that are lining up to go out with me. Though I have to be careful to not overdo it and keep it believable. I mean just because I’m far away doesn’t mean anyone’s gonna believe I suddenly turned into Amanda.
3) I act confident and forthright (which is pretty much the opposite of me) and the next time he comments, I write a reply like, “Hey Levi! Let me know when you’re heading off on that cruise so I can TRY to meet up with you!” Though obviously I won’t put the “try” part in all caps. But still, he’ll get the gist.
And after reviewing all three choices, I think I’ll go with #2. Basically because it’s going to be way too hard for me to try to pull off #3, and I don’t really want to take the #1 approach and keep up my loser blog either, because actually, well, it’s a little depressing. So obviously that leaves me with #2.
Besides, what could it hurt to make my life sound a little better than it is?
**VERY RECENT UPDATE**
(T
echnically July 10)
There’s more!
OMG—get this! Right after dinner I went to my room, and I was barely in there two seconds when Tally knocked on my door and said, “Yannis is here.”
And even though I had this immediate flash of his image in my mind, even though I knew exactly who she meant, I also thought it would be a good opportunity to try out my cool, new blog persona. So I narrowed my eyes and tried to look confused as I said, “Who?”
But I guess Tally’s too smart for that, because she just shook her head and laughed and said, “Go on, he’s waiting out front.”
So I scooped Holly off my bed, peered into the mirror and ran my hands through my hair real quick, trying to fluff it up and make it look tousled and cute as opposed to flat and limp, then I went outside to where Yannis was sitting on his Vespa, looking just as cute (maybe even cuter!) as he did on the Fourth of July. And it was so amazing to see him sitting there like that, especially since I’d convinced myself I’d never see him again.
I hugged Holly tightly to my chest, watching as Yannis smiled in a way that showcased the dimples on either side of his cheeks, as his deep green eyes gazed into mine. Though I guess it was a little too close for Holly because he immediately started protesting, and squirming, and scratching at me to get away.
“So what’s up?” I asked, setting Holly down and watching as he scrammed back inside the house, but not before leaving a burning red spot on my arm, where his claws nearly broke through my skin.
“I was wondering if you want to go for a ride?” Yannis asked, his gaze still on mine.
And it wasn’t until I’d climbed on the back of his bike and wrapped my arms tightly around his waist, that I realized I’d forgotten to ask where.
But as it turned out, we ended up in town, at a club that seemed like it was filled with all of his family and friends.
“Have you been here before?” he asked, grabbing my hand and pulling me inside.
So of course, still trying to come off as cool, experienced, and worldly, I just shrugged and said, “Um, maybe. I really can’t remember.” And then I gazed down at my khaki shorts and black tank top and wished I’d at least taken the time to change before I agreed to go out with him.
But he just smiled, and said, “My cousin owns it.” Then he proceeded to introduce me to like one hundred and thirty different people who all seemed to be somehow related.
“So is everyone on this island your cousin?” I asked, no longer trying to keep all the names straight, and just nodding and smiling instead.
But he just laughed and said, “No, it only seems that way.”
Then he pulled me out to the dance floor, where we stayed for most of the night. Only this time it was regular, modern dancing as opposed to that traditional, running-in-a-circle Greek dancing. Which also means I didn’t have an excuse to hold his hand. But still, it was pretty cool just to hang out in a club, and enjoy a cocktail or two, and be treated like an adult for a change. Even though we didn’t actually have any cocktails and just ordered two Cokes instead. But still, it’s the KNOWING that you can have whatever you want that makes it so great.
Though I guess Yannis is probably pretty used to stuff like that since he grew up here and all. Well, both here and in Athens, since, as he told me, his family only comes here for the summers (which is why I saw him on the boat, he was coming back for the summer) and then he returns to Athens for school. Which actually seems like a pretty cool life. Except for the fact that he probably won’t be here next summer because he’s in his last year of high school and after that he has to go into the military for at least a year.
That’s exactly what he said—HAS TO.
Like, no choice whatsoever.
Apparently the only choice he has in the matter is WHEN. Like, he can go right after high school, or right after college, or even put it off until he’s in his forties. But in the end, he HAS to go. No exceptions. Which seems like it would really suck, but he didn’t seem all that bothered by it.
So at one point, we were sitting in a booth, taking a break, when they started playing some traditional Greek song. And right out of nowhere (or at least it seemed that way to me) one of those girls from the Fourth of July party walked up, gave me a quick, sharp, not so nice once-over, then turned to Yannis and said something in Greek that, from what I could guess, was the equivalent of asking him to dance.
Seriously! Right in front of me! And even though it seemed really weird, I mean considering how we were obviously enjoying ourselves and not looking for any kind of distraction, it’s not like I could do anything about it, since it’s not like we’re a couple.
I glanced back and forth between them, wondering what Yannis would do, my heart thumping hard in my chest as he smiled, shook his head, and stayed seated.
And then, just like in a movie, she narrowed her kohl-lined eyes on mine, tossed her long black hair over her shoulder, and marched across the room, all the way to the other side where her friend from the Fourth of July BBQ, the one with the botched dye job that left her hair an unfortunate shade of tangerine, stood glaring at me.
So then I looked at Yannis and went, “Um, who was that? Another cousin?” And then I laughed—though it was definitely more of a nervous laugh than a real laugh, but the moment was so awkward and tense I didn’t really know what to do.
But he just shook his head and shrugged. Then he got up to get us more Cokes, and by the time he came back, we moved on to something else, and I pretty much forgot all about it ’til now.
When the club was closing and it was time to leave, I climbed on the back of his bike, wrapped my arms around his waist, and buried my face in his neck, closing my eyes to the passing scenery, the full moon, the chilled air—losing myself in the warmth of his body and the way he managed to smell so good without the aid of cologne or aftershave or anything remotely artificial.
But by the time we made it back to my house, I suddenly felt so awkward, and funny, and nervous, and weird, I just hopped off the back and bolted for the door. And just when I realized I hadn’t said thanks, much less good night, he called, “Hey, you forgot something.”
I gazed down at myself, taking inventory of my shorts, my tank top, my flip-flops, seeing everything still present and accounted for, and wondering what he meant. But when I looked up again, he was waving at me to come closer, and I knew it was all just a ploy, some silly ruse so he could try and make a move.
But instead, he just reached inside his pocket and retrieved the silver Tiffany’s bracelet I’d lost while we were dancing, the one I’d forgotten all about until it was dangling right before me.
So I offered my arm and held my breath, watching as his fingers brushed across the thin blue lines on my wrist, feeling the clasp snap shut, and becoming so dizzy and breathless I thought I might faint.
And when I looked at him again, I knew he was going to kiss me. And just as I was about to close my eyes and lean in, he smiled, mumbled something in Greek I couldn’t even begin to understand, then started his bike and rode away.
The second he was gone, I ran for the door, repeating the phrase over and over, anxious for either Tally or Tassos to translate. But when I got inside, they were already asleep, and by the time I got to my room, and grabbed this journal, the words had disappeared.
July 10
Dear Tally and/or Tassos,
I MUST learn Greek! Immediately! And you can help me by ONLY communicating with me in Greek from now on.
I’m serious.
This means that even when you’re talking to each other and I happen to walk in the room, it would really help if you could immediately switch your conversation to Greek.
This is what they call the Immersion Method.
This is how my Spanish teacher does it.
And this is why I got an A in Spanish III last semester.
Also, I need to ask you about these two girls that were here on the Fourth of July that I think you might know. One has long black hair, and the ot
her has this kind of orangey colored hair (like she tried for blond but only made it halfway). Anyway, anything you can tell me about them would be greatly appreciated. Though I’m afraid this particular conversation will have to be in English, as I need to understand every word.
Okay, I’m heading into town to hang at the café for the rest of the day.
So—have fun at the beach!
Love,
Colby
July 11
Dear Dad,
Even though I just got off the phone with you, I realize there are still a few important things I didn’t get a chance to say, so I will write them down here.
1) I don’t think it’s at all fair for you to say that there are things that happen between adults that I cannot possibly understand. Because I DO understand, Dad—more than you can possibly know. It’s YOU who never tries to understand ME.
2) If Mom and I have to move to ARIZONA then when will I get to see you? Did you ever think of that? Because it’s a whole other state, which means joint custody and alternate weekends are pretty much out of the question.
3) The last time I spoke to Mom, she informed me that you have a new girlfriend. And even though I waited through our entire phone call for you to mention her, you never once did. And just as I was about to take the plunge and ask you myself, it seemed like you somehow sensed it and that’s why you claimed you had a call on another line. So don’t go thinking I was fooled, because I wasn’t.
Anyway, I’d really appreciate it if you could write me back at your earliest convenience, as I’m obviously in need of some answers.
Or if you’re too busy to write, then maybe you can just send me a plane ticket so I can fly home and we can hash it out in person.
Seriously, Dad, this is no laughing matter.