Tango Echo Nevada? Day 10.

A lot can happen in 24 hours. Today’s immunity challenge was fun (throwing tomato halves at my roommates’ pictures), but I’m not so sure if it’s a life skill. Brian won immunity – I have a personal theory that it was unfair how his and Alyssa’s pictures were on the ends of the table. (But I am just a little bitter). My pictures were both knocked down early on in the game, but I didn’t catch any vibes that it was intentional.

A quick side note – before Austin and Christina left, everyone in the house came to an accord that if an alternate were to come in, they would be voted out before anyone else.
Jilted Jon is a freaking god-sent. He lightened the mood by break dancing, cracking jokes and offering a sense of hope for potential new alliances.
I’m not exactly sure how things fell into place, but apparently news of our ‘alternate-plan’ seeped out into the bloggy dorm room air and tensions rose.
Brian took everyone aside to get our opinions on who should be voted out next. We all agreed it should be Rachel – she is a bigger threat than Jon, plain and simple.
The RA’s feelings are a bit mixed up though – he knows what’s best strategically, but he has feelings for Rachel. (Which I figured would be a variable never to be factored in, considering the PG rating of this reality show).

Currently Rachel, Jon and Julie are Guitar Heroing… Alyssa, Brian and Adam our chatting on our front porch in front of the luxurious bay window.
I can’t tell which is worse – the ambiguity of who may be plotting against me, or the idea that I have a concrete hit list to follow through on.
This feeling will not dissipate; it is the blind leading the blind. There is no way to communicate without awkwardness. We all want to win.

[Quick message from Brian: ‘Tidal Wave’ is not a hula dance – it is to be performed by only FCC students. Thank you for your understanding].

You notice how quickly the tone of this blog can change? It is a million times more severe than that in this room. The calm before the storm. Waiting it out in the eye. Seeing the aftermath, cleaning up debris, re-establishing ‘friendships’. The latter of which I find to be the most disturbing component of this experience; I actually do feel like I’ve befriended everyone in this room. My conscience and morals get the best of me. I am not a back-stabber, I am a horrible liar.

The more unfortunate part of this prospect is that this competition is NOT a freeloading karma-induced lottery. You need to work for certain titles and balances, and be quick on your feet. I feel like the only strategy I have so far is to approach everything like a blank sheet of loose leaf; in the poem I’m writing, there is more between the lines and in the words that are not written, than there is in each syllable and punctuation mark.
*Also now Frank is chasing the security guard. Flart is now a term if the flirt blogs.
- Flirtazious