I'm not sure if anybody else will find this as funny as I do, but here's a brand spanking new blog created by a couple of Chris's friends, who clearly have far too much free time now that they're out of school for the summer. I was going to say that it probably wouldn't make sense to anyone who doesn't know these two, but then I realized that I don't actually know them beyond theirrespectivewebsites. Anyway, it strikes me as the sort of thing Sarah and I would do if we weren't so busy being busy.
I spent the weekend at camp, and I must say, it feels so good to come home with sore muscles. Reminds me what they're for. I got to see some people I haven't seen in a very long time, and got some much-needed updates on their lives. One guy just got accepted to Cornish College for the Arts, which is so awesome. Another guy was taking a lot of razzing from Chris and others because he had announced he wasn't going to staff camp this summer because he doesn't want to be away from his girlfriend, but after talking to him, I completely understand where he's coming from.
Here's what I did at camp this weekend:
*Won a game of pool at 8 AM
*Cleared brush--a lot of it
*Started a fire with a blowtorch
*Directed and supervised group projects throughout camp
*Led camp songs in the dining hall just for kicks
*Rode around in an old pick-up with the program directors
*Set up an improvised projector system so we could show a movie in the dining hall
*Helped take care of the camp's ten horses; also hand-fed them apples.
*Formed an impromptu circle of staffers and sang camp songs in the road
*Tore out rotting posts, dug post holes, and set new posts
*Leveled tent platforms
*Instructed a Cub Scout leader to let his boys "go nuts" with pruning shears around the edges of a campsite, and boy, did they ever.
*Created a new drainage outlet to the very flooded lake since the beaver dam blocking the culvert was unreachable; our attempt to lower the water level essentially failed.
*Picked up brush for burn piles--a lot of it
*Played follow-the-leader and duck-duck-goose with the cubbies--so much fun!
*Led a tour of Camp Pigott
*Stacked firewood
*Erected a wall on an under-construction adirondack
*Cleaned the staff lounge, which I'm pretty sure has never been cleaned as long as I've been on staff.
Last night we drove to town and watched Shrek 2, which was very good. I'd figured it could never be as good as the original, and it wasn't, but it was close. It's a lot more grown-up than the first one; I think the target audience for this is older teenagers and young adults. In this one, Shrek and Fiona are already married, so their problems are more complicated. Lots of new fun characters, though it's sad John Lithgow as Lord Farquad didn't even make an appearance in this one. My favorite new character is Puss in Boots, voiced by Antonio Banderas in a very Zorro sort of way.
And you know what else is great about movies in the theater? Previews. I am so psyched for Spiderman 2, Stepford Wives, and most of all, Harry Potter 3. Can't wait!
I promised to post about Kerry, and I will, even thoughSarah already beat me to the punch.
He was good. He addressed the main concerns we had. He looked presidential. He was able to use big words without stumbling. He was able to wrap his head around complicated subjects, although he assumed we couldn't. So was he everything I hoped he might be? No. But he's about all I could reasonably expect. He IS better than any other candidate. I wanted more, I wanted to be inspired. Looks like it won't happen, not this year. Maybe I just need to grow up and stop being so idealistic. And that's sad.
Don't misunderstand my post to mean that I don't think Kerry's a good candidate. I think he'll make a good president, far and away better than our current president. I think Kerry's policy stances are a huge step in the right direction for our nation, and are very much needed. But despite the polls that consistently show Kerry leading Bush in the polls, I have very little confidence that he will win in November. This is due in large part to the Nader effect. Since Kerry does not inspire leftys to believe in a better tomorrow, the hippies in Seattle and elsewhere will vote Nader in droves. The more mainstream Kerry tries to be to capture the center, the more votes he loses from the left. Current polls show Nader around 6 percent. Even if more people want Bush out than want him to stay, a 6 percent margin will be near impossible to pull off. I hate this. I now know how liberals felt in 1984, when there was no way to beat Reagan.
To be positive, however, Kerry's way cooler than Walter Mondale. And with any luck, he'll pick Edwards as his running mate, which ought to help him in rural areas. Then they'd be the John Squad. Yeah, I realize nobody gets that reference. I'm ok with that.
And yeah, I promised Isabel Allende too, but let's take one thing at a time, shall we?
John Kerry will be speaking in Seattle on Wednesday at 9:00. I'm totally going, and you should too. Get in touch with me if you're interested in heading down there together.
EDIT, 10:45 PM: That would be 9:00 AM on Wednesday. Realized I hadn't specified, and with my college student schedule, I'm rarely even up that early, so I thought I should clarify.
So I was most of the way through writing a semi-long post on my weekend when my computer restarted itself (it does that A LOT) and it was lost. So here's my weekend, shortlisted:
1. Frantically did laundry at 1:30 Thursday night and again Friday morning; had not washed clothes in a very long time and was desperate.
2. Drove out to camp with my brother, listened to Rock Against Bush, a compilation album by a bunch of punk bands protesting 43.
3. Played at the tower. I mean, set things up at the tower.
4. Drove to town for dinner and a movie. Watched Mean Girls, we claim only because of the SNL influence.
5. Back to camp; fell asleep at 10:45. Zonked.
6. Worked through a poorly-organized Girl Scout Camporee (150 little girls. Eeek!) Belayed for six hours.
7. Checked gear quickly
8. Sped home, ate pizza, watched Shawshank Redemption, fell asleep in middle.
9. Church with my mom, watched Traffic 10. Finally remembered must do homework; read a lot about the Bush family.
I get to see Chris today, if all goes according to plan. Hooray!
It's been a really fantastic few days. And there have been some really entertaining low points, too. That's my way of warning you: long-winded post ahead.
Thursday the second million dollar prize was awarded in Survivor All-Stars, determined by audience vote. Congratulations to Rupert, who is definitely a sweet guy and is deserving. Personally, I was rooting for Rob Cesternino, who was booted in week 6 because everyone knew how smart he is and how close he came to winning last time. He never stood a chance in this vote, but he was probably the best to ever play this game. Richard Hatch was more successful, but he had the element of surprise. Rob played the best, sneakiest, and most manipulative of anyone. So you may not be winning the million, Cesternino, but you've got the admiration of one adoring fan.
Friday, Sarah and I took her friend, who's visiting from out of state, to the Space Needle. That was really cool. I haven't been up in a long time, and it was fun to see how much of Seattle I could recognize from the air. On the way back, our bus overheated. Five times. It took 45 minutes to get home. That's normally ten or 15.
When we returned home, my dear Kentucky Rachel was waiting for me. Her folks took us out to pizza (at Piecora's, which is the best pizza around, and at affordable prices. Seriously, you should check them out.)and then left us to our own devices. Unfortunately, my roommates were having a party, so Rachel's visit was soundtracked by poor renditions of Beatles songs and the incessant beeping of CatchPhrase. It was very, very loud here. There were about 35 people here all at once, some of whom we did not invite, one of whom was really, really not welcome. Rachel and I hid out in my room and spent several hours catching up and shaking our fists at the infernal racket. Her visit was much too short, and we're already planning to get together for longer next summer.
Saturday I worked. It was the slowest, dullest day of work yet. We had three cancellations and six (SIX!) no-shows. Makes me glad I'm paid by the hour and my pay is not dependant on the number of patients we see, like the doctors' pay is.
When I got home, I went to wash my feet, because they were stinky and dyed black from my off-brand mary janes. I slipped on the tile floor and gouged my right foot on the faucet. And we're not talking any little bruise here. Oh,no. I have a three-inch-long, half-inch-wide open wound on my foot. It hurts rather a lot. I'm being a big wuss about it too, limping and all. It's a peculiar-looking cut also; it's only a couple colors short of a rainbow.
Saturday night I went to Chris's. We had a really fantastic time together. Except for the three (?) hours I spent doing homework while he played video games. But generally, it was a very good time. We saw Troy, which was awesome. It was everything I expected it to be and so much more. And I'd like to send my kudos to whoever was responsible for the contact lenses in that movie--Helen's eyes especially were freakin' cool. Ummm...did I just reveal what a big nerd I am? Shouldn't have been a secret anyway.
This morning I missed my ferry back, so had to catch a later one. I was nearly late to class, and didn't get lunch. It was totally worth it. Also, I'd like to reiterate how cool ferries are and how cool buses aren't. A crazy guy talked to me for about 20 minutes on the bus about how I ought to win the lottery and buy a motorcycle. Not a bad idea, actually.
Maybe I haven't said so lately, but my classes are wicked cool this quarter. I especially love my class on the Presidency, which just keeps getting better. We just finished Nixon and Watergate, which is totally fascinating. I'm writing a paper about him later this week. Will keep you posted.
My adoring fans, that ought to keep you busy for a while. Or if not, I'm sure you'll deal.
Good idea: Going out to dinner at Applebee's with family for brother's 17th birthday.
Bad idea: Taking on the Lemonade Challenge.
The Lemonade Challenge, so far as I can tell, was invented by some of Evan's friends from Boy Scouts several years ago. See, Applebee's has five flavors of lemonade, six if you count plain lemon. The challenge is to drink one glass of each flavor. Sounds easy, doesn't it? It's not. The combination of high sugar content, sheer volume of water, and the coldness of the drink make it very, very hard to do successfully, and rather unpleasant afterwards.
But Evan and I both completed the Lemonade Challenge. At the end, he thought he was going to hurl, and I was shivering uncontrollably and my lips were blue, but gosh darn it, we did it. Then we went home and laid on the couch waiting for our poor distended bellies to return to their normal proportions.
Today is my one-year blogiversary, and I wasn't sure how I wanted to commemorate it. Until now.
I started this blog by criticizing George W. Bush (well, mocking him, really), and in a year I have only grown more steadfast in my belief that he and his right-wing cronies are very dangerous for the future of freedom and democracy in America and around the world. Since inauguration, he has acted as though he has a mandate from the people that he clearly does not have. The 48 percent of the popular vote that elected him is not a majority. The high approval ratings he held after his decisive leadership following 9/11 are gone, lost in the president's mishandling of an unjust war. Unfortunately for me and for other people of conscience, Bush is not the miserable failure that Gephardt and others say he is. He's been all too successful in getting what he wants accomplished. America has essentially rolled over and let him have his way just because he says he's right. But anyone with eyes to see and a brain to think must realize that the reckless cowboy politics of Bush II are very dangerous for the United States and far worse for any foreign nations who dare oppose us, not to mention the ones who don't.
So today I'm announcing my support for Senator John Kerry for President in 2004. I'm sure this is no great surprise for many of you; I do strongly believe that nearly anyone would be better for the nation than Bush. Hell, I'd elect a box of tic-tacs over Bush. But in all seriousness, I've read up on him, and I honestly believe that Kerry is just what we need right now. We don't need another idealogue, the liberal clone of G.W., reciting the party line. What we need is someone who is sensible and reasonable, who understands foreign policy and its complexities, who knows the cost of war as well as the value of nation-building. Kerry is that man. Read his Washington Post editorial on Iraq. Explore his website. And how cool is his wife, Teresa Heinz Kerry? She's fluent in five languages. She is personally involved in several issues more compelling and controversial than literacy.
Expect to see some more political content before I go on summer sabbatical. Ignoring it hasn't made it go away, and I fear if I don't get involved, we could end up with four more years of this cowboy and his posse. Consider Kerry. And if you haven't done so yet, please register to vote. Remember how close the last election was? Your vote counts.
Some of you may recall a couple weeks ago I posted a story fragment and promised more soon. Well, I figured I'd post the rest as soon as I got it right. I've revised it a half dozen times and it's still wrong. The accuracy went with the first revision, but try as I might I can't get it to ring true. So here it is anyways. Criticize the hell out of it. I'm serious. Please, please, please tear this apart, so I can fix it and put it together right.
Oh, and it needs a title.
* * *
“Do you want to go for a walk?” he asks eagerly in a lowered voice.
“Yeah, just let me grab a sweatshirt. I’ll meet you out front.” I step into my room, sink down on my bottom bunk, and sigh. I know it’s a bad idea to get involved with another counselor. Leah, a tough girl in her fourth year at camp, had warned me against it my first night there.
“It won’t work out, and when it doesn’t— ”
“How do you know it won’t work out?” I demand.
“Because you’re 18, and teenage relationships never work out. Like I was saying, when it doesn’t work out—and it won’t—it’s going to be you that gets burned.” She pauses, taking a long drag of her cigarette. “Regardless of the circumstances, you’ll be the bad guy. If you’re lucky, they’ll just call you a bitch.”
“And if I’m not?”
“Whore. And they’ll mean it, too. It’s not easy being a girl at Boy Scout camp.”
I desperately hope the summer won’t be like Leah describes. I don’t deserve that kind of treatment. After all, I have been involved in Scouting for several years. I started out tagging along after my brother, jealous of the cool trips his Boy Scout troop took, but soon got involved myself. I started up a local Venturing crew, a coed program of the Boy Scouts of America, and helped it grow and flourish. Scouting is what I do.
“But I’m not just a girl,” I contend. “I’ve been backpacking since I was three. I’ve gone whitewater canoeing in Alaska. My Venture crew has run programs for weekend events here at camp for years. I’m the real deal.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re still just a girl to them. You’ll learn ways to cope with it and ways to sidestep it, but it’ll always be there. These are quality guys, mostly, but they’re still guys. They’re gonna try to fuck you. And when that doesn’t work—and honey, make sure it doesn’t—they’re going to try to fuck you over. You’re invading their manly turf. Be sensitive to that, and you’ll make it.”
Chris is different, though, I think to myself. He makes me laugh, he takes my suggestions seriously, and he makes eye contact when he talks to me. He sees me as more than just a pair of breasts. I hope I’m right about him.
I pull the sweatshirt on and slink through the common room to the door. I am grateful nobody is paying attention. I’m not yet ready to own this relationship, and I’d rather it stays secret until I figure out where it’s going. I slip out the door, and there he stands waiting. I smile shyly and dig my hands deep into the pocket in the front of my sweatshirt. We turn and walk down the gravel road. Cedar trees rise tall on either side of us, and stars pepper the deep blue sky above us.
“You, um, looked really pretty today,” he chokes out. I smile weakly. He is after my body, I think to myself. I’d worn a semi-transparent shirt when I returned from a day off. My truck doesn’t have air conditioning, so I had to wear something cool enough to keep from melting in the heat. Is that what he’s referring to? No, I reassure myself, he’s just trying to be nice. He’s 19—it’s understandable if he doesn’t quite know how and when to deliver a compliment. I decide to cut him a break.
“Thanks,” I reply, and smile more cheerily.
We talk about all the usual things: college, our future goals, our families. When we’re around a bend, out of sight of our cabin, I pull my left hand out of my pocket and reach down for his hand. He finds mine, and we walk holding hands and chatting, pretending the conversation is important.
We walk a mile, all the way to the next camp, before turning around and heading back. We talk about the past, the easy parts. We talk about Scouting, and working at camp, and about our fellow counselors. Before I know it, we’re back in front of our cabin.
“Let’s not go in yet,” I whisper. “If we stay out later, maybe they’ll all be asleep when we come in.” I am not looking forward to re-entering the cabin. I expect to find only gawky boys and suspicions there.
He nods, understanding, and leads me down the road in the opposite direction. We pass the parking lot, which is empty because campers won’t arrive for two more days. We turn to the right and come to the beach. A white mist rises off the lake, giving the area an ethereal, almost supernatural feel. The lifeguard tower rises like an obelisk against the stillness.
He looks skyward, and directs me to do the same. “Look how beautiful that is,” he says in wonderment, gazing at the stars. I look up. I can scarcely remember seeing so many stars out at once. He drops my hand to be better able to point out constellations to me. He knows all their names.
“Eco-geek!” I cry out at him, with a teasing grin. He smiles, points out another constellation with his left hand, and slides the right one around my waist. We stand in silence for a moment, then I turn my head towards his. He leans down and kisses me. He’s gentle and warm, and he doesn’t try to grope me. He passes.
We kiss for a few minutes, then pull apart and look at each other, then around at the still and deserted beach. I think about what Leah told me. Yes, I’ll be breaking camp policy as well as several unwritten rules. Yes, when the other counselors find out, I will be teased mercilessly by younger boys jealous that Chris got to me first. Yes, there is a chance he’ll brag to his buddies about me.
Okay. I’m tough. I can handle it.
At that moment, far down the road, headlights appear between trees.
“We have to hide!” I shriek, and dive towards the guard tower. I duck under the manila ropes surrounding the beach area and then run against something solid that knocks me down. It’s another section of rope. I climb over that rope and duck behind the tower, where Chris is waiting, and laughing at me. The pickup cruises by, and seems not to notice us.
“Hi-yah! Ninja stealth victory!” I exclaim. He smiles, and puts his arms around me.
For another version of the Bloomsday weekend, check out my roommate Rachel's blog. She's a new blogger, one that I take credit for starting.
The next two weeks look to be busy ones socially, possibly including: meeting Chris at the airport, Jimmy Buffett party at my folks' house, Mothers' Day, Survivor All-Stars finale, my brother's birthday, and a visit from my dear Kentucky Rachel. Very exciting! This does not, however, bode well for my homework. I should get going on it. Now. Or, soon. Eventually.
1. Our internet is back, thank the lord.
2. The trip to Spokane for Bloomsday was the most fun and the most exhausting trip I've taken in a long time.
3. 300 miles isn't that far to drive, unless it's 80 degrees out and the car has no A/C. Then it's unbearably warm, which is best remedied by removing one's shirt. Unfortunately, this attracts the gaze of really creepy guys.
4. Peach-onion salsa is about the best thing ever.
5. I finished my politics homework on the drive over: two days early. Boo-yah.
6. Despite the 80 degree heat, Lake Couer d'Alene was still frigid. Glacial run-off, maybe. It was refreshing.
7. Rachel's grandma is nuts. She's a sweet lady, but she's pretty crazy.
8. My grandma was very hospitable and happy to see us. Rachel loved her house.
9. Our Team Trogdor T-shirts, crafted from little boy undershirts and sharpie marker, were stylin' and recieved many compliments and cheers. Not everyone understood the reference, but most could appreciate "The Burninators!"
10. The weather was perfect for Bloomsday: warm enough but with a nice breeze.
11. My girls stuck with me for almost three miles before leaving me in the dust. Damn them and their full-capacity lungs.
12. Because it's Bloomsday, I wasn't really running by myself. At any given point, there were a dozen people within ten feet of me. And Bloomies are friendly. It was a lot of fun.
13. I finished the 12 K (7.5 mile) course in one hour and 52 minutes, and it absolutely flew by.
14. By the time I reached the finish line, I had sore gluts, a weak knee, a hurting ankle, and two massive blisters on my feet. Despite this, I was so happy to be there.
15. The shirts this year were white (yuck) with what looks like a Disneyland castle on the front. We were disappointed with them, but we're wearing them to class today anyways.
16. Four girls in a Subaru Legacy isn't crowded. Four girls and a boy is.
17. I drove all the way back from Spokane. I made good time, and didn't get pulled over. We were home for dinner.
18. Something about the long drive, the dehydration, or the physical exertion made me feel a little out of sorts and rather braindead. 9 hours of sleep helped a lot.
