I look so hot today, if I were male, I'd fuck myself.

Hey, shut up. It's so rare that I feel confident enough to call my appearance anything but "decent." I suppose bleaching my roots last night helped.

I dyed Joel's hair blue. I don't think he really likes it. For some reason, his damn hair won't bleach really light. I left the bleach on my natural colour for probably twenty minutes and it's practically white, while his after forty-five minutes only turns a sandy blonde. (My hair kicks ass.) I sowwy, Joel, I tried.

Funny how you forget these things until reminders come up. I had a dream last night that I've had about once a year. I didn't have it last year, so the plot adjusted accordingly.

I go off to a big Bible camp for a week. It's so big, it's like a college campus, with different dorms that attendants sleep in. A blond guy, Chris, about my age, is always there. Always stays in a dorm called Hall House, right around the corner from the one I always stay in. We're such good friends, I always think we should hang out outside of the camp, too, even though he doesn't live near me. I actually don't know if I know where he lives. This guy doesn't really exist, I should note.

We share so many opinions, we spend hours and hours hanging out and talking and doing various shit on the campus, going to plays and going for walks and stuff. Not even romantically. There is a blonde girl who always rooms with him, who's pathetically on his ass. She always does him favours and shit; it's so obvious she hopes to win his heart, but he just spends all his time with me. We talk about everything. No subject's too personal.

It always ends when I go to his dorm and find out he's gone home early, and I didn't get his contact info. Then I feel like I'll never see him again, he'll go on with his life and perhaps never come back to the camp. I wonder if someday I'll dream of the camp, and he won't be there.

He's gotten good-looking. I remember how he looked as a kid. Not that great. His hair is kind of shaggy, but straight, goes to his chin. I fuckin' look like myself in the dream, Joel looks like himself, Joey looks like himself, down to the hair, eyes, and height, y'know? It's such a realistic dream. When I wake up, I miss the place, I miss the people, and I miss Chris something awful. I want to hug him and talk to him for hours and wander around the camp late at night under the stars. Not romantically. It's just a very deep friendship... with someone who doesn't exist.

It sucks. This morning I felt so lonely when I woke up and he wasn't real. Fortunately, or unfortunately, my mother woke me up twice, both before the inevitable moment at which I would have discovered he was gone... again... without a goodbye to me. The second time, we were in his room, dim teal walls, on his bed, cross-legged, and he was looking at the ceiling, back slumped, wearing his glasses and telling a story about his aforementioned blonde girl friend and tampons.

Yeah, I am so cool.