stranded.

maturity wise, there's really not much of a difference between a 17 year old boy and a 30 year old man.

evidence?

six grown adults

stuck for hours

in the mountains

at 11 p.m.

in an extended cab truck

while it's 27 degrees outside

with nothing but a box of hot tamales

{and, like, a lot of laughter}

all because the 30 year old man thought it a good idea to splash around in the puddles

{which were truly more like ponds. or lakes. or reservoirs.}

until the engine flooded.

every once in a while, someone would step out of the truck {into that 27 degree weather} so the rest of us could use the extra body space to stretch.

being stuck in the heart of the puddles n' all, our precious shoes required protection.

but those brave enough {or concerned enough} to look after our {or the truck's} well being, hiked up the pant legs and took care of business.

and all the while, i directed the dateline NBC reinactment in my mind.

six good kids.

death by hypothermia.

or cannibalism.

and then reality sunk in. we still had cell coverage.

so he called for help. and a ride home.

and i send out my own personal SOS

me: miss?

jen: is everyone alive?

me: barely.

jen: where are you?

me: we got stuck in the mountains. a stranger came to rescue us. if we don't make it and you have to tell our story to dateline NBC, make sure the details are correct. this guy is making us listen to limp bizkit.

jen: sick.

me: death by limp bizkit.

clearly, we made it out alive. but just barely.