OCD, the Dude, and Me - By Lauren Roedy Vaughn Page 0,29

chopped me up and served me for dinner. Aside from terrible recurring thoughts about how fat I am, I had a good day in Stratford.

The next day we visited Oxford, and all I remember from that old city is that it was infested with rats. I couldn’t hear anything after the tour guide mentioned the Black Death and all the rats. I have to stop writing about that right now. Next we visited Stonehenge—much better.

Surprisingly, this bunch of big rocks helped me be able to let go of some things I won’t go into here specifically, but, I thought, if something like Stonehenge can exist and the greatest minds of our times can’t figure it out, then maybe all the things about my life that I can’t make sense out of aren’t to be unraveled. Maybe some things are meant to be a mystery. That idea doesn’t solve anything, but it does make me stop and let go, just briefly. I am by no means capable of extrapolating all the meaning from my life situation. Certain things are just there like big, giant otherworldly stones that appeared somehow, obviously, but not by any rational means. What can you do? You can’t bring people back from the dead. You can’t make people love you. You can’t really force much at all. All you can do is just be. (Although, face it, that is easier said than done.) It would be cool, though, if something about me made someone stare in wonder like I stared at Stonehenge. That would be cool indeed.

Teacher comments: Aside from your thoughts about yourself in Stratford, this trip is giving you good perspective.

POSTCARD #1 to Aunt Joyce

Dear Aunt Joyce,

I am sure you know by now, because it wasn’t on the news, but I did not die in a plane crash on the way to London. Things are manageable, I guess, so far.

Danielle

*PRIVATE TRIP INFO* 3/6

Journal #2: The real story

On the bus ride out of London to Warwick Castle, Heather and James and Michelle and John played a game called nervous. What is this game? I asked myself when I heard James say they should play it. This is a game you play with someone you like, someone you would love to have touch you. If heaven were a fantasy I could live out, I’d play nervous with Jacob for eternity. But I would not, in no uncertain terms, make it a spectator sport. Just stop it, Danielle. Jacob is a jerk. This cognitive dissonance over him is going to make me need immediate psychiatric care. So, in nervous, one member of the couple (in the case of our bus ride, the guy) starts touching the other person in various places on her body or starts trying to kiss her or make progressively bold, amorous gestures until the girl says “nervous” and then the boy has to pull back or stop or whatever. I could never actually play this game. If a guy just so much as put his hand on my overgrown thigh I’d yell “nervous!” at a decibel sure to break the sound barrier.

The teachers were asleep at the front of the bus and the driver wore headphones and was completely not interested in any of us or what we were doing. John played this game with Michelle, and I wanted to say aloud, “Hey, excuse me, guys, but Michelle is NOT his girlfriend. Isn’t anyone going to stand up for Sara here?” But what do I know? I don’t know the rules of love. John was actually being really gentle as he brushed his hand along Michelle’s ankle, and she turned red and giggled a little. She didn’t utter “nervous.” She didn’t look nervous, either. She glowed.

James was trying to play nervous with Heather. You could tell by how committed to the game he was that he was all about touching her. But Heather couldn’t focus because she was talking to Keira.

“Keira, I don’t know if you’d be cool with this, but for tonight could I sleep in your room? Michelle and I got into a fight because she thinks I took her leggings, which I so didn’t. The ones I’m wearing are mine. Anyway, can I?”

“I don’t care. I guess. Danielle, do you care if Heather sleeps with us tonight?”

OMG I totally do! But instead I say, “No.”

“Awesome. Keira, do you have a razor? I forgot mine and my bikini line is totally out of control.” Heather said that out loud on the bus.