Days on Island: 2
Afternoon…still (I really need to find a watch)
Still no sign of rescue…I've decided I'm going to stop updating on that because it's quickly becoming pointless.
Sometimes I really cannot believe men. Crashed on an island, something insanely huge and most likely hungry is running around in the jungle and they're fighting. I couldn't say I was too surprised to see the guy who had been sitting next to me on the plane in the middle of it. He didn't exactly strike me as a pacifist.
From what I can gather he accused the Middle Eastern guy of being a terrorist and blowing up the plane. Okay. Right. Just because the guy is Middle Eastern, he's a terrorist. Narrow-minded hillbilly. Wait…I just heard someone mention he was from Iraq. Well…that doesn't mean anything. Right?
Now, I won't lie. This is totally anti-feminist of me to say and I will deny it in court if asked, but watching guys fighting is not a bad way to pass the time. Like any red-blooded female, I'll watch Fight Club until the cows come home, but this was starting to get bad and Hillbilly totally wasn't fighting fair. Out of nowhere, Jack suddenly appeared and broke it up. To be honest, a small part of me was disappointed. Hey, there's no cable here, we have to find ways to pass the time. I mean, it wasn't like they were going to kill each other. Anyway, there was more male chauvinist bullshit. Threats were made, punches were thrown, handcuffs suddenly appeared (I'm a little fuzzy on that development but more later). It's enough to make a girl swoon. If I cared and this was 1805.
Jack said he, Kate, and the Driveshaft guy found the receiver, but it wasn't working. The Middle Eastern guy, who I think I heard earlier introduce himself as Sayid said he could fix it. Fine. Good. I don't care who fixes the damn thing as long as it means we get off this island.
I am so writing a strongly worded letter to the Coast Guard when this is all over.