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I'm stuck at my grandparents beach house in Grand Haven, Michigan with Dial-Up AOL and no signal for my cell phone. Well, actually, the cell phone fell out of my pocket and into the lake. My cousin, Marcus, who's 8, picks it up and says, "Hey, Marie-Claire, is this your cell phone?" I was like, "Oh, s**t!" Madeline, his sister, who's 10, is like, "What's s**t?" I said, "Um... It's a bad word for poop. But don't say it. You parents will kill me." It probably doesn't help that the weird people renting the house next door hired some group of crackpot rednecks to make noise on their deck. One plays accordian, one play harmonica, and one 'sings.' (If, that is, you call hollering, "I GOT UP DIS MORNIN' AND I GOT MAHSELF A BEER!" over and over again at the top of your lungs 'singing.' Personally, I think he got himself more than just 1 beer, but whatever.)
I have no privacy here! It probably doesn't help that I have no door and three and a half feet of walls on three sides of my room. (I'm in the loft because my cousin, Madeline, stole my room.) I walked into my bathroom the other day to find Marcus lathering himself with my $10-for-a-tiny-tube sunblock. (It's expensive because it feels light and doesn't clog pores and stuff.) I resisted the urge to yell, "No! Bad cousin!" and snatch the bottle from his slimy little fingers. Instead, I let him finish it off and made my mom buy me a new tube. (Hey, they're her relatives.) She used to always buy it for me, because she uses it, too, but she stopped doing that a couple months ago. Get this: one morning, I get up and I can't find my jeans, so, figuring that my mom washed them, I call downstairs, "Mom, have you seen my jeans?" My aunt is like, "Madeline wearing them, and she went to town with her dad." My jeans! My precious jeans! So I wait for an hour or so until the return of my mulch-covered pants. She must have been at the playgrond. She even takes my shampoo down to her family's bathroom and uses half of it. They set up camp in my room! Half of my room is convered in couch pillows from the playroom and their little StarWars books and GameBoys. Well, they're leaving tomorrow morning at six, so I won't have to worry about them anymore. I probably won't be on much more for about a week, because every time I use AOL, a little bit of my soul is eaten. It's so painfully slow!