Wednesday, June 13, 2012

If A Bear Eats Me At Camp, My Husband Does Not Have Permission To Get Remarried.

Camping is disgusting. 

When you camp you become smelly, crusty, musty, dusty, uncomfortable bear food.

Come Monday I am going to be atop a mountain (for 5 days!) praying not to be sprayed by a startled skunk or eaten by a famished lion. 

Frankly, I'd rather be eaten than sprayed.  How humiliating to wear Eau de Skunk Butt. Shameful. Only Chanel for me, thank you. 

You're welcome.

I asked for The Job this year.  I bugged The People to death, in fact. 

I said, "If God tells you I should not be Church Camp Director this year then I'll back off.  I won't be mad.  But I don't see why God would say that. I'm a good person.  So do your praying and let me know asap if I get the job so I can start planning my outfits.  Love, Sister Pistol"

I got The Job.

Both of my older daughters are going to girls camp this year.  I like to be the boss of all the things they are involved in.  Now I'm the boss of their camp.  YAY!

When I was twelve years old I went to the very same church camp we will attend this year. 

Some (most) of the girls in my ward didn't like me much.  I was scrawny and white and spoke very correct English and Spanish.  They spoke broken Spanglish and wore half a can of Aqua Net in the thick brown fuss that nested atop their mean, stupid heads.

On the very first day of girls camp I found myself face to face with a very large, very tall, very loud, very brown 17 year old girl.  Angelica.  The leader of the pack.

Angelica was angry with me for having the audacity to breathe her air and speak her language when I was very clearly  the wrong color.  My father was white.  How dare I erroneously think I was one of them?  How dare I speak to them with so much confidence?

I remember walking backward slowly as she yelled two inches from my face, towering over me. 

Angelica demanded I show her some respect.  Her hands were flailing in every direction. I could swear her neck turned to rubber the way her head bobbed about furiously on it as she spoke.  She pointed her fat finger between my eyes for emphasis.  My eyes crossed and I frowned.   I felt my back come in contact with a tree trunk. I was trapped.  She kept screaming and threatening until I broke down in tears.

My camp leader (who happened to be Angelica's mother) was not very sympathetic to my cries.  She turned up her 4 chins at me as I begged for someone to take me home.  I could not cease my tears. I felt unsafe and unwanted after that experience.

I went home the same day I arrived.

My first year of church girls camp was horrendous.  I was traumatized by the thing.

This is why, although I detest camping with a flaming fiery passion, I asked for The Job.

I know the leaders of my current ward are sweet as pie.  I trust my children with them completely.  I feel as though they are family.

I also know that I am SUPER FUN! I am the ANTI-ANGELICA!  I'm prolly the funnest gal I know.  I can't deny that I'm pretty AWESOME most days.  I have some pretty fun friends but I think I'm the funnest.

I'll be the OPPOSITE of fat and mean.  I only have ONE chin!  And also I LOVE TO LOVE!!

My girls (meaning ALL those campy camp girls) will have THE BEST experience.  No bullies ALLOWED!

I'm gonna be sooooo nice and sweet and crazy at that place!!

I won't smell sweet but WHO CARES?  I'll swing from the trees and sing at the top of my lungs and be pissed off every night that I have to sleep in a freaking TENT  on the freaking FLOOR  in a DANG STUPID IDIOT SLEEPING BAG! 

PS  Sorry about having to moderate the comments as of late, but some dang, stupid idiot is being verbally abusive toward me.  So annoying how one naughty person ruins the fun for the rest of the class.  Bullies suck. *sigh*  Grow up, man.