Neglected

Dear Pineapple Wednesday,

I'm sorry for I have neglected you. Moving home from school was CRAZY. And in this little place I call home there was really no one to deliver a pineapple to... except for creepy guys that hit on me at Walmart. Frankly, I don't deem them worthy of receiving such an honor. I move to a new school in about a week. Lavender Gooms/Ghee Buttersnaps/Methuselah Honeysuckle etc. will be home from her excruciatingly long trip, and we will be reunited... for a month. Hopefully during that time we can rekindle the magic of Pineapple Wednesday. And spread some more joy.
An update though... after taking a trip to Italy (where my dastardly cell phone refused to work. Imagine that. heh.) I returned home to find my cellular device flashing with a few unheard voicemails. Of course I felt the need to listen to them. And of course as always, that lovely (usually extremely annoying) feature of cell phones that causes them to play old mail first was indeed working. It informed me that my message from blahblahblah-blahblahblah-blahblahblahblah was going to be deleted. Little did I know that I had just been informed of the number I had been longing for ALL THIS TIME! Shawn! The roommate of cemetery pineapple guy! Remember him? The one whose number my phone REFUSED to tell me?! Yes. After all these months of torture... it finally gave in and told me the number.
Now the real question is... do I call it? Readers. If there are any of you. Tell me what to do! Is it too creepy to just give 'em a ring and say aloha? After all this time. There is that part of me... that crazed psych-addicted pineapple-giving part of me that desperately wants to. But that more sensible, timid, socially awkward person inside me that refuses to pick up the phone, type those digits and say "Hey. I don't know if you remember me... but I'm that crazy pineapple girl from Logan. How ya doin'?" What do I do? Anyone?
I doubt anyone reads of my pineapple adventures... but if you do, now is the time to give me your advice. Encouragement? Or lack thereof. Since Methuselah isn't here to tell me what to do (though she already told me to call him and is somehow thoroughly convinced that he is my future husband and I'm going to marry him someday) I need your help now, reader. And hey, Shawn? If you stumble across this? I'm not really as creepy as I sound... I promise. I'm just a girl who likes psych, pineapple, and making people happy. Spreading the Aloha, ya know? And I promise I'm not convinced you'll fall madly in love with me and we will get married. :) I'm not THAT big of a creeper for sure.

Aloha!