Colby's Journal For Desperate Times When She's Stuck at 37,000 Feet Where There is no Internet Access

June 16

I tried. Really, I did. I gave it my best shot, but here I am anyway. Sitting on this stupid airplane, next to some stupid, smelly, old man, in seat 37G, which is the second to last row, just around the corner from the toilets (which believe me, I can totally smell) and right next to the window in case I want to open the shade and gaze out at—nothing. Seriously, there's nothing out there but miles and miles of white cloud tops.

That's how high up we are.

That's how far from home I am.

And it would all be fine and worth it if I was going to end up somewhere good, but I just happened to peek at the first page of the guidebook my dad slipped me at the airport and this is what it says:

"Tinos is the most important destination in Greece for religious pilgrims, and yet it remains one of the least commercialized islands."

Um, excuse me? Religious pilgrims? Least commercialized? And those are the good things?

And if that wasn't bad enough, it then goes on to say:

"Tinos is also famous for its dovecotes—which are elaborate stone towers, with ornamental perches for doves."

And then it waxes all rhapsodic over some stupid natural spring in some stupid main square in some stupid small village where the locals apparently:

"Wash their clothes by hand."

So basically I guess you could say that my parents are sending me to a place where religious pilgrims, doves, and villagers all hand wash their delicates right smack in the middle of the town square.

And I don't think I need to point out how it really doesn't get any worse than that.

Not to mention how I did absolutely nothing to deserve any of this in the first place. Since it's not like I got in trouble, or did anything illegal or bad, and yet, here I am, the one being punished.

I mean, just because my parent's decided to wreck their lives and get divorced shouldn't mean they get to wreck my life too. Isn't it enough that they're robbing me of a two-parent home, as well as their mutual guidance, stability, and security?

DO THEY REALLY HAVE TO WRECK MY ENTIRE FREAKING SUMMER TOO???

Apparently, they do.

Because according to my mom's shrink/life coach, I need to be "removed from all negative influences," and shielded from "any harmful issues that may arise during this turbulent time," so that my parent's can "work out their issues in private," so I can return to a "peaceful household." Which may sound all fine and reasonable on paper, but here's the thing—how does she know what I'll return to? And how can she guarantee it'll be PEACEFUL?

And more importantly, WILL I EVEN BE ABLE TO RECOGNIZE MY OWN LIFE ONCE I'M ALLOWED TO RETURN TO IT?

Or will they have hacked away at it so much, that by the time I get back, there'll be nothing left that's even remotely familiar?

Because last night, when I came home from Amanda's, almost a full two hours past curfew, braced and ready for big time trouble, my mom and dad were so involved in one of their never ending arguments they didn't even notice I was back, much less late. Heck, they probably weren't even aware that I was even gone in the first place—that's how bad it's gotten.

And just as I was sneaking past the downstairs guest room, (where my dad's been camping out for the last three months), and heading upstairs to my room, I completely froze, with my eyes bugged out and my jaw on the floor, as I distinctly heard them use the words—sell the house—move—and—Cyber School.

In. That. Order.

And now, because of that, pretty much all I can think about is:

1) If they fight like that when I'm gone just a few hours, how bad will it get when I'm gone for three months? Ten o'clock news bad? Dateline Special bad? I seriously wish I was joking, but I'm not.

2) Move? Who's moving? And more, importantly—where??

3) What the heck is Cyber School? And how does it apply to me?

4) If they really care that much about my "peace of mind," then how can they banish me to no-man's land—just ship me off to live with an aunt, who, up until two weeks ago, they both referred to as "Crazy Aunt Tally?"

I'm totally serious. That's exactly what they called her, and they didn't even laugh when they said it. They'd say things like: "Your Crazy Aunt Tally sent you a birthday card," and then my dad would drop a blue airmail envelope onto my desk. Or, "Your Crazy Aunt Tally made you these earrings," then my mom would jiggle something dangly and beaded in her hand.

And now, just because they've decided they can no longer stand each other, can no longer communicate without screaming, Crazy Aunt Tally is suddenly the perfect summer chaperone?

I mean, ARE THEY JOKING?

And just exactly HOW am I supposed to survive, for a WHOLE ENTIRE SUMMER, with no car, no cell phone, no Sidekick, no Sephora, no Abercrombie, no parties, no friends, and no Internet access???

Not to mention how this was supposed to be my best summer yet, the one I'd been working toward since practically forever. Because after years of going through the motions of a ho hum existence, after years of being just another blank face in the crowd, I finally penetrated Amanda Harmon's inner circle. And I'm not talking clinging to the outer fringes along with all the other wannabe dorks; no I'm talking right inside The Promised Land. I'm talking the glorious, golden, inner sanctum of those who are allowed to hang at her house, ride in her car, and maintain a spot on her cell phone speed dial.

Though I'm still not sure how it happened. It's like, one moment, I'd been secretly worshipping her from afar, going all the way back to elementary school when I'd pretend to make fun of her hairstyles and mannerisms (but only because my one and only friend at the time truly did despise her, which made me feel like I had to hide the fact of how I wanted to be just like her), and the next, in a complete and total fluke which also turned out to be a moment of complete and total kismet, I'd scored the winning goal in a down and dirty game of fifth period PE volleyball, after which she came right up to me and said, "Hey, way to score."

And then she high-fived me.

And then she complimented me on my brand new Nikes.

And the next thing I knew, I was pretty much her new best friend.

Which kind of required me to get rid of my old best friend.

But since we were kind of in a fight anyways, I decided to go with it and never look back.

Anyway, all of this happened just in time for what was gearing up to be the most amazing summer of my, so far mostly unamazing seventeen years, which, now, because of my parent's, their attorney's, and my mother's personal guidance counselor, has been tragically edited down to just one single night.

Still, as far as nights go, I have to admit it WAS pretty incredible (hence the two hours past curfew return!) and since it's most likely the only great night I'll ever get, I should probably write it all down so I'll always remember it.

Only not now, later. Because now, the flight attendants are bringing the meals and I'm starving.