MercyTheKitty Rants

{Tue, Jul 657, '10}   Summer ’10

Well, I’ve been spending my summer volunteering at the local library, helping children with their summer reading. Friday, a whole group of kids I remember from camp came in and started talking to me about themselves, camp, the counselors, etc. I was so DEVASTATED! I missed camp so much!

Today, I had some free time, so I went to visit camp. From what the kids told me, there’s a new director and only three counselors still there from last year.

The second I walked onto camp grounds, one of the kids yelled out my name, starting a whole flurry of kids greeting me. I kinda liked it. 🙂

When I got inside, I found one of the remaining three counselors, who I’m guessing is now the assistant director. She just sort of said hi…

I was standing at the door looking stupid, gazing around the room for someone to talk to or something to do. At one of the tables, I saw returning counselor #2 and rushed over to him.

When he saw me, here was his joking reaction: “Oh, God, not you!”

I tried talking to him, but then returning counselor #1 came and said I couldn’t stay. She gave me five seconds to talk to returning counselor #2 and admitted she was kicking me out. Way to go.

I reflected on my walk home, and now I’m here, blogging. I really do miss camp; even seeing all the little kids playing games, I didn’t think I had outgrown it at all. I think the counselors could have been a little nicer, though. The three remaining counselors were three of my favorites, so they could have at least allowed me to spend a bit more time chatting and saying hi to my little friends. I never did get to meet up with returning counselor #3…

I feel somewhat shunned. I guess I don’t belong there… I spent so much time imagining conversations and how my day would play out, so I guess it was obvious I’d be let down, huh?

Maybe I should have savored my eight years there?

This even makes me rethink becoming a counselor when I’m old enough… All the counselors there seemed so fake, with fake smiles, pained expressions, you know? In all honesty, if I had to, I would do the job for free, and not just for the money, because that’s just how much I love kids and camp.


{Thu, Apr 2924, '10}   The Secret Life of the American?

So, I realized that I haven’t posted on my blog FOREVER! I’m sorry. I logged onto WordPress just now and found out something important: All my comments are marked as spam and have to be approved to be visible. More apologies to the wonderful internet-users out there that have read my rants! To date, I haven’t had a single negative comment *knock on wood*, and I really appreciate being appreciated. 🙂 I’ve approved all the comments, and they’ve also brightened my day.

Anyways, this post is about the strange things that go on in the lives of other people, namely my camp counselors and teachers. Amazingly enough, teachers have lives outside of school! (I know, right?) With a bit of stalking, research, and friendship-forming, I have discovered this:

  1. The only counselor I’ve had for all eight years I spent at camp went on to be a Spanish teacher at the same high school he attended (at least, before it was reconstructed). He got out of college this year to immediately substitute for another teacher on maternity leave, and he was rehired for next school year, too. Too bad this school is the only high school in the town. Former campers now have to call him by his last name, INCLUDING ME. It’s extremely weird to know that one of my teachers knew me when I cried every two seconds, loved arts and crafts, and swam with a floatation device. On the other hand, it’s even STRANGER to know that I knew HIM when he was sweating over the SATS, wore low pants, and spiked his hair (I know, tragic!). Well, now that I think about it, he wore low pants last year…
  2. Another counselor, I’ve known for around three years. He, too, is now out of college and works in the town recreational center. I started talking to him once, when I was there.
  3. ANOTHER counselor, I’ve known for the same amount of time as the counselor from #1. She’s currently in college in-state, and did not return to camp last year. I saw her just yesterday when I was picking up some pictures from Walgreen’s. It was a little awkward, actually.
  4. I was picking up photos from Walgreen’s because I just finished an extra-curricular film photography course. I used the dark room, too. 🙂 Anyways, the teacher (who is also my homeroom teacher), shoots weddings for extra cash. I found that sort of interesting.
  5. My band teacher earns extra cash, too, by being in four regional (orchestral) bands. They preform professional gigs all around the state, and he gets paid per rehearsal, whether he participated or not (awesome, right?).
  6. I learned one of my former band teachers had a brain tumor a few years ago. A lot of students like to make fun of him because he’s bald. They don’t know that his baldness was caused by the tumor (not the treatment– the actual tumor). That’s gotta hurt.
  7. I had a camp counselor for one year, who used to always bring in his trumpet and play. He was a professional trumpeter, and we all loved his music. That summer, I was deciding what instrument I wanted to learn for band class, and trumpet was my first choice. I only remember talking to him once, because my friends goaded me to ask about trumpet-playing. A few years later, he went on to teach part-time at the same high school as the counselor from #1, but the job didn’t last. Last I heard, he’s out of work and looking for a job.
  8. Several of my counselors are now in college, and some are still in high school. I see the latter often.
  9. The English teachers at the high school are musical geniuses, and have their own band: Drummer, guitarists, bassists, singers, the whole lot. They preform for the school pretty often. I guess they must be pretty good, because every time i hear one of their songs, it’s stuck in y head for the next two weeks or so.
  10. And there’s a foreign language teacher who’s a professional singer outside of school. He goes to all sorts of events around the state to sing. I’ve seen his calender. He’s pretty booked.
  11. And yet another counselor is finishing his junior year in college, studying to become a teacher, just like the counselor from #1 (does everything go back to him?). He proposed to another counselor on the last day of camp two years ago, and she said yes. He never came back to camp last year, but we exchanged 100+ messages on facebook, in which I learned he had a fight with the other counselor, causing them to break up but stay friends.
  12. On the other hand, my guidance counselor and 5th grade art teacher are happily married to each other. It’s a little weird to see them together so much, like when they attend the school play or chaperon dances (yeah, it’s happened).
  13. My English teacher plays the guitar and ran an after school guitar jam last year. She’s not in the band, though.

At this point, I’m a bit tired of all this typing, so I think I’ll end here. I hope I haven’t boored you too much with my talking about people you probably don’t know.

And if it’s YOU I’m talking about, then I’m sorry, but at least it’s anonymous.

So, yeah. I learned that, for some strange reason, even the most lifeless people have almost-lives. It’s scary.

Today was the last day.

I have been going to the same summer day camp for the past eight years. For eight years, I have seen campers and counselors alike both come and leave. For eight years, I have grown up with the same games and experiences.

And now it is over.

Today was the last day of camp until next year, but when next year comes, I will not be there. I am now too old to go back to camp next summer.

The day was pretty bad, compared to the average day at camp. We were stuck watching a movie (“The Emperor’s New Groove”), because some kids got hurt, and everyone needed to be out of the way when the ambulances and medical persona arrived. There wasn’t much to do, and the counselors decided to pick on me and be meanies. 😦

Luckily, there were quite a few perks. First of all, all the kids there for their final year (including me) got to play dodgeball against the counselors! We did it without permission from the head counselor… or their boss! (The game ended when that boss came. We had to pretend we were doing something else.) Unfortunately, I FINALLY got a ball and threw it at one of the mean counselors, but someone caught it and I got out. Walking to the bleachers, another counselor pegged me in the stomach. Then I got back in the game later, but my shot was caught again.

I also had lots of candy and ice cream. 🙂

And it is also a camp tradition to pick a counselor with hairy legs and wax one of them with a piece of duct tape. I picked one of the meanies (the same one I was pegging with dodgeballs). 🙂 We were out of duct tape, so I had to do masking tape, which didn’t stick very well. I pulled off about five hairs. There was no screaming or crying. 😦 He wouldn’t give me a redo.

In any case, I was the last camper to leave today. Camp ends at three. At 3:05 (after giving every counselor a hug and exchanging phone numbers with some friends), all the counselors watched me sign myself out for the last time, singing “Goodbye” from “Remember the Titans.” And I left.

I’ll miss camp. I don’t remember a single summer without it.

But in three years, I will be old enough to apply for a job as a counselor. I can be one of the people I, myself, looked up to and played with for the past eight years. And so the cycle begins again…

{Tue, Jul 718, '09}   Where’s my pixi stick?

Okay, so a pixi stick is a plastic or paper tube filled with powdered sugar in different flavors. You tilt it into your mouth and eat the powder.

At my summer day camp, there is an ice cream truck that comes in the morning. I’ve been at the camp for eight years, so I know the lady who owns the truck pretty well. Most of the time, she gives me free candy or ice cream when I go to buy something. Today, it was a pixi stick.

So, there I was with my free pixi stick. I didn’t feel like eating it, because my friend was waiting for me so we could play cards. I decided I would want it later, so I put it in my bag.

My bag is sort of like a purse, but a big one– not one of those dainty little things that can’t hold anything worth holding. It wasn’t big enough for the pixi stick, so a little bit of it stuck out. I thought it would be safe.

When lunch came, I went to go get my lunch box, which was next to my bag. Glancing over, I noticewd my pixi stick was gone! I looked around and found it lying on someone’s backpack, so I took it and put it back in my bag.

At the end of the day, I was ready to go home. I picked up my purse and– what do you know? My pixi stick was gone AGAIN! And this time, I had no clue where it went.

So here I am… at home… posting this. And I’m mad at whomever stole my pixi stick. It was mine, and obviously in MY bag, so the theif should have known not to take it.

So if you guys out there want to give me a pixi stick… you know… that’s fine, too…

et cetera