When the Lights Go Down in the City

Home for the weekend. Camp is AWESOME!! I just spent three nights painting Cair Paravel and I'm still scraping gray paint out from under my fingernails.

Sarah got married today, which was kind of surreal. CRAZY. Wow. Married. Okay, remember the time when a list was made of who was going to be married next? Remember that time when I was first on the list? Yeah, pretty sure it's basically fate now, because I caught the freakin' bouquet. Just for the record, I'm not in any hurry to get married. Rather: I came to WIN!!

Okay, well that's all. Camp starts OFFICIALLY tomorrow. These may be the last words I write as a sane person. But at least I hope to be having a radtastic time as I lose my sanity.

Let's Get Dangerous

Well this is it, folks. I leave for camp tomorrow, training starts on Sunday and kids start arriving next week. I'm not sure how often I'll be near a computer, but I'm sure I'll have a few chances to update over the summer. So, keep checking.

Look at the size of those cabins, I'll be as snug as a bug in a rug or something. Anyway, keep in touch, guys!! I'll definitely check email fairly regularly.

Weimaraner

Now there is a word I cannot pronounce. It's the kind of dog that one guy likes to photograph all the time, and he'll give them the dog's head but a human body. Does anyone know what I'm talking about? Anyway, I can't say that word, but I'm working on it. It used to be "whim-ih-ra-ha-ha," but now I walk around mumbling, "Why-mer-anner, WHY-mer-anner..." It's a work in progress.



So basically my friends and I are really sneaky, and I'm good at acting not suspicious. My friend Sarah is getting married, so we threw her a surprise wedding shower today, which was fun and mostly not awkward. She was my small group leader/advisor at church from 6th grade until graduation, and she's definitely allowed to get married because she's like a decade older than us. I'm more not okay with my friend Erin who is 19 and getting married, but that is a completely different story.

Sarah and I were supposed to hang out today, and we drove to Jessica's house (way out in Walnut Creek, definitely a good 40 minutes away) on the pretense of dropping off stuff for Summer Sunday School, which both my mom and Jessica's mom are apparently involved with. And then...SURPRISE it was actually a party, what do you know.

We made an excellent cake, I cannot stress enough how good this cake was. Three-tiered white cake, with raspberry jam between the layers and vanilla frosting. Then embellished with tacky flowers and plastic doves, and lastly crowned with the essential bride/groom ornament. It was a work of art, believe you me. It's creation was well documented, and if I ever get copies of the pictures I will post one here, because I like to show off my work. I'm not so worried about my future cooking anymore, in fact I plan to transfer to the California Culinary Academy, the pastry track. Because I have a gift.

The part that made the evening switch from "completely not awkward" to "mostly not awkward" was when Sarah predicted the order in which we (the '04 girls) are going to get married. Out of nine girls, I bet you'll never guess who was first on the list for getting married. I'll give you a big hint: it was not any of the other eight girls. I think all my talk of made-up complicated love situations and secret English lovers ended up boosting me up on the list. Ah, crap.

And with that, I leave you with this exciting news from my secret English lover that is not actually my lover but is actually English: The World Cup starts in 8 hours!! (At least, 8am Pacific Daylight Time). I don't really know much about soccer/football/fútbol, but I guess the World Cup only happens every four years, like the Olympics (well, I guess the Olympics are really every two...). Anyway, here's England official World Cup song, if you're interested. Okay now, time for bed.

WHY-mer-anner!!

Eleanor Put Those Boots Back On

Here's a story! This one time when I was little, my eyes were itchy and watering and red, and I couldnt stop rubbing them and they kept getting worse and worse. So my mom administered some eyedrops. It was only after my eyes started burning that she looked at the bottle and realized that she had grabbed Tough Actin' Tinactin by accident. The moral of the story is, you don't need to treat your eyes for athlete's foot. Or something. That was a random story, I don't know why I thought of that. Actually, maybe it was the Tough Actin' Tinactin commercial 15 minutes ago.

Oh, TV. I think I'm subconsciously trying to fill my quota for the summer before I leave for camp, so it's definitely been on too much lately. I think my favorite is watching movies that are so obviously dubbed. Like this great line from Die Hard: With a Vengeance:



[McClane hands Zeus a gun]
John McClane: You know how to fire one of these?
Zeus: No.
John McClane: No?
Zeus: Hey, all brothers don't know how to use guns, you racist melon farmer!

Priceless.

Hey, I finally finished packing for camp! So now that my room is nice and clean, the weirdest thing started happening. My room smells like it was freshly painted, it's so strange! Like a phantom smell or something. Anyway, now I have the urge to go paint walls. But maybe that's just the Home and Garden TV kicking in.

A Rose By Any Other Name

As some of you know, I will be working at a summer camp this summer, starting this weekend. Aside from the state of perpetually packing for it, and the shopping/to-do list that keeps growing longer, I have the task of thinking of a camp name. This is a delicate business, since I will be called this name all summer, and presumably in summers to come, so it has to be something that I won't hate after the first three days.

For a while, I was thinking "Cricket" would work. The concise two-syllables, the hard "K" sound (similar to Caroline). And if this name was taken, I had "Fraggle" (as in "Rock") as my backup. I mean, who would have claimed Fraggle?

Well, after visiting the camp two weekends ago, I learned that both Cricket and Fraggle were taken and had been used for the last 4-5 years. Back to the drawing board.

My third choice had been "Carabiner," but I never seriously considered it because it would be shortened to "Beaner" and I'm not such a fan of racial slurs.

My mom suggested Willow, which is actually not a bad idea, but it brings to mind the Warwick Davis movie (which my family may or may not absolutely love, okay yes, we're obsessed with it).

The worst suggestion so far has been "Conch," like the shell (thanks Dad). As in the huge one that Ralph uses in "The Lord of the Flies" to round up the troops and form a primitive civilization before Piggy and his asthma fall off the cliff and they all start worshipping a pig's head and everything falls apart. That kind of shell.



We have one of these monsters, and if you aren't familiar with the correct pronounciation it is CONK. Can you imagine being referred to as CONK? Thanks, I think I'll pass...

Anyway, any and all suggestions are welcome, although I don't expect to get any since I don't think anyone reads this blog anymore. Sorry for being so flaky, I kind of lost motivation for a few months there. And now that I seem to have it again, I'm leaving in five days, and it will definitely be neglected all summer. Oh the irony.

As for the camp name, I'm thinking I'll see if Nutmeg is available. That was actually almost a nickname of mine, a long time ago. Or just last year. Fingers crossed!!

Listening to Goldfrapp Every Day of the Week

I'M SHRINKING. I went to the doctor today and they said I was 5'8" and a half. BUT LAST TIME I WAS 5'9" AND A HALF! So I basically lost an inch. The guy there said I wasn't shrinking and was probably just inaccurately measured before, but all I heard was LIES!! Make sure to come see me now before I shrink into the floor.

It gets worse! I had to get a shot. But it's okay, everybody: I survived. Actually, I don't really mind shots as much as I used to. They're just not my favorite. I figure I'm allowed at least one irrational fear, right? At least I'm not afraid of snow, clowns and Bigfoot like someone I know (aka my sister).

We ate dinner at a Greek-Italian restaurant that my family likes. It's not my favorite, but it is pretty awesome when they bring out the saganaki and light it on fire. My sister sat across from me, which is usually the best place for her to make fun of me (okay, not really).

So apparently my nose is different from everyone else in my family, and she likes to point it out all the time. The conclusion is that it is short and fat. Here is how my nose feels about that:



It is not pleased. Actually, it doesn't mind being special, because it can wrinkle like no one's business.

Dinner was fun, though, we talked about French movies and the hotel guy in Paris that my sister and I agree is the most attractive human on the planet. And I finished a super tough Sudoku, because I'm a big nerd. But at least I've got the rest of my family addicted to it too.

I spent this last weekend in Cal Poly with Nina and Leah, where I heard the funniest story EVER about their roommate's grandmother driving the wrong way on the freeway. " 'Do Not Enter'? Well, I'm-a gonna anyway!" Probably the best.