Ok, so. It's Tuesday after my last class, and I am in the SCC writing about the past few days. Sound like a plan?
Saturday night I left the SCC with that guy. (Just friends, people, please no inane comments.) We went to Sbisa, had lunch/dinner (whatever you want to call it, it was food). Sat with this guy who seemed pretty cool, he told us about an improv show over at Rudder for only $3. So, we went to see Freudian Slip, the A&M improv troupe. Abso-friggin-lutely hillarious. Man, I wish I could improv like that--I'm so terrible, you'd have to see it to believe it. In conversation, I can be fairly witty, but add action to that and I basically freeze and/or embarrass myself, and not in a way that's funny, more like uncomfortable. So I tend to watch more than I take part. My friend, on the other hand, is probably going to audition, and I talked to one of the people in the troupe, and apparently they need tech people--I am going to go and (possibly audition for the heck of it, but definitely) apply to tech their shows. They seem pretty fun, although I was disappointed to find that none are involved in the theatre department. Took me until today to actually meet anyone who was, in fact. Still, that's definitely something I would love to watch any time they get a show.
So, after...ended up watching TV in the TV lounge until around midnight, that guy and this girl/guy friend combo. The girl lives in my dorms and--get this!--is actually supposed to be gluten free! AHHH!!! AND she lives on the same floor as me--just down the hall, actually. Friend material, maybe? She seems pretty cool. I know I'm probably not going to meet very many liberals here--side effect of going to A&M--but she didn't seem to be so conservative we wouldn't get along. So, add this girl to my sudden improv friend and I may have my first official A&M friends! (If I don't count my fish camp friends, that is.) Kind of happy, won't lie.
So then...Sunday. Slept. Chilled. Had a headache. Didn't do much until the evening, when I went to meet my DG leaders who were going to help us find our classes. Not a real problem for me, with all my classes being in a straight line and five minutes from my dorm room. It was awfully sweet of them, though, and I know I would've gotten hopelessly lost the past few days without it. And, as a bonus, it was fairly fun. One of my DG people is apparently taking the same class I am, although, unfortunately, a different teacher and time. Still, we might have some compatible stuff to cover, so we might could study together or something. That would be nice.
Monday...woke up pretty early, got breakfast, ate nicely, enjoyed the morning. Got dressed and ready for class, headed to class number one: Introduction to Psychology. The teacher seems amazing, and I'm definitely looking forward to it.
Second class: Shakespeare 312, with a focus on politics (i.e. Kings, Queens, and other people of power). I know my advisor's a little worried about this--it's a junior level course, and I am technically a freshman. But, I did get my IB diploma, and I scored high enough that I have freshman and sophomore level English credits--listen up, IBers, because that is a BIG deal! I'm the only freshman in her class, I think--but if I'm honest? It doesn't seem like I'm going to have trouble. If you know me, you know how much I love Shakespeare, and how easily the language comes to me--I'm fluent in Shakespearian, you might say, and it all comes from my dad reading the comedies with me from the minute I could read. Honestly, I remember being in kindergarten and my dad helping me with my reading skills by perching me in his lap and reading The Tempest, him playing every guy, and me reading Miranda and Ariel. I grew up going to Shakespeare in the Park, and one of my earliest memories is of being barely 2 and watching The Taming of the Shrew live. If I have any problems, it won't be because it's Shakespeare. So, whatever the worries of those who don't know me yet, I am excited about this class--and, I think, ready. And, if all else fails, there ARE Q-drops, and that freshman class grade cancellation/forgiveness thing. I doubt it will come to that, though--I'm too excited about this. I want to do well!
Last class Monday, American National Government. NOTHING like my high school government class--man, was that a fiasco. It was a war every day between me, the teacher, and one of my best friends. This seems like it'll be an AMAZING class. I love my teacher--he's hillarious, sarcastic, and calls himself a "raging centrist"--he actually reminds me of one of my favorite high school teachers, with the kind of humor he has combined with his politics. Oh, and his grading policies. No ridiculous busy work in this class, it's entirely based on a few tests. I think that may actually be a good thing, though, because it just means studying.
Actually, that seems to apply to every one of those classes--I don't think I will have trouble, so long as I study and do the work. And since that's basically what my life has been for two years, that shouldn't be a big deal.
As for today, well, that's another matter entirely. My Acting I class seems great. We're reading Angels in America, which I've read, and Proof, which I've read, and covering Stanislavski and Anne Bogart--which I know some. Thank you, IB Theatre. The practical application will be harder for me; last time I acted was this time, a year ago, and I didn't get that figured out until the very end of production. I could feel the change, when I did, though. I haven't really had the chance to put that into practice since.
Speaking of. Auditions next Tuesday. I'm trying to find an audition monologue; I've kind of outgrown the ones I used the last time I did a monologue audition (Saint Joan and A Midsummer Night's Dream). I thought about using my monologue from All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten, but it felt kind of like a cop-out. Plus, it's not really dramatic, and this one is supposed to be dramatic. Not my assumption--it says so on the callboard.
Back to school. Second class today, Script Analysis. LOVE this teacher. The other on seemed cool, but this lady? Freaking amazing. Hillarious. Nice. And she seems really excited about being there. She's also the one directing the fall show: Dangerous Liaisons, which is really fantastic. Even if I don't actually make the show--and no, I don't think I will, I am a freshman after all--just to work on this production is something I've wanted to do since Cedar Hill did it for one-act my sophomore year. It just seems like such a cool show to be a part of.
So, my fears about the theatre department? Totally gone. Everyone I met is friendly, smart, funny, or kind, or all four. I'm really happy and excited for this year now.
Went back and had lunch at Sbisa after this...then went to my seminar...that was great. Only 9 of us, and I really like these people! I think I already have my group for the group projects we have to do, two really friendly people I met right off who I already get along with. It's amazing how easy it is to meet people here. As for the class itself, well, its too early to tell, but it seems like it will be good.
After class, I went to check on my books...weren't there...went to sign up at Rudder...the woman had already left...but, there was one of the guys there who was a part of the improv troupe? Really nice guy. Apparently he also is the stage manager for the auditorium, so if I sign up as a stage hand he'll probably see me quite a bit, along with me teching the improv shows. I like him already, he was very friendly and seemed perfectly happy to have me there asking about working. And, of course, he's darn funny.
Anything else happen today? I am now in the SCC. I got a call from MacResource a little while ago, so I can pick up my computer tomorrow. Last time I'll have to trek down here, although I think I'll get up early tomorrow and read my homework at Evans Library--my books, of course, aren't in yet. Hopefully they come in soon, I don't want to make this walk any more than I have to! Oh, and the guy I hung out with on Saturday was here. He seems cool, although it was kind of weird for him to hang around all night. I guess he's just friendly and had nothing else to do (well, duh, he said as much). Again, just friends, to my dear sisters on here that will call me tomorrow screaming--he talked to me about the girl he's in love with, and I'm not interested, so don't give me those oohs and ahhs. The only guy I've met here so far that really peaks my interest is a guy I met at the bank a few weeks ago; he gave me his name to look him up on facebook, but I haven't been able to find him. Absolutely freakin adorable, and he plays guitar.
Speaking of guitar, I've been practicing nightly (my guitar hero dahlings, be proud!) and I can feel the calluses starting to build up on my fingertips. I still don't have any chords memorized, nor can I play any out of the book for very long, but I can play Jingle Bells, Amazing Grace, Love Me Tender (notes, not chords) and a few others all right out of memory. Last night I played Streets of Laredo for the first time; not very well, but aside from some squeaks and buzzing it was passably good! I was pretty pleased, not gonna lie. It's amazing what practice can do.
It is nearly 9 o'clock, and I should probably get going. I feel like summarizing and moralizing what's been going on though. I'll take a few minutes--won't go past 9 though. Sound fair?
Anyway. I guess something I've really figured out that applies to anyone and everyone, whether they feel lonely in high school, college, or just general life: get involved! There's a reason fish camp hammered it into us. You immerse yourself in anything that interests you, and you will make friends and enjoy yourself. If you're lonely or depressed, you're the only one making yourself that way (well, perhaps a chemical imbalance in the brain has something to do with it, but otherwise it's all you). Find something you like. TALK to people. In 18 years I have never been someone who could sit down next to a total stranger and start up a conversation. I have met so many people I will probably never see again, and thats ok. Once I would have thought it a waste of time--now I just find it interesting. Everyone has hopes, dreams, plans, likes, dislikes. Finding out what those are is the first step to involving yourself in the world around you. Once you've done that, you can be happy anywhere. I really believe that.
Oh, and one other thing: it's never too late.
Signing off, this is Kat, trying new things and finding out, well, she likes it.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Gig'em Week Part Two (really just the soccer game, won't lie)
Saturday afternoon. It is boiling hot outside, and I am sitting in the SCC, writing about life.
Last night was AMAZING.
I will reiterate what I said yesterday: until last night, I had never seen a live soccer game. Never watched a televised one, either. What I didn't bargain on was how freaking INTENSE it is. This was women's soccer, and these chicks are running into each other, knocking each other over, diving, dodging, battering each other's shins...we played Virginia Tech, which someone said is ranked as one of the top teams in the nation? I could see why. It was tough. REALLY tough.
Sat next to this guy I'd only talked to the day before and a girl who was in my cabin...two of my counselors were behind me. So even when I wasn't paying attention it was amazing. That wasn't very often, though--Aggies are LOUD...and we had chants for everything. Oh, and if I didn't understand something, there were a few people willing to explain. Grateful for that, meant I actually understood some of the things that where whizzing right over my head. One of my favorite parts was that one of the counselors (who is a junior) granted us J.P.'s (junior privileges) for the game. That's a big freakin deal, and it was great.
Oh, and best part? We WON. 5-3. A&M, GIVE US ROOM!
After, too, a few of us went and watched Vampires Suck over at Cinemark ($4 movies? they treat college kids well in this town!). Absolutely stupid and ridiculous. I loved it. It's getting framed over my bed. Right over my collection of Stephanie Meyer novels. Yes, I have read Twilight, and watched the movies. I enjoy the books because I imagine Bella as being played by Ellen Page (a.k.a. Juno) and thus as ridiculously sarcastic with everything she says. No WAY is she meant to be serious, I claim, because it's the only thing that keeps me from hating them. Probably why I hate the second book so much, it puts an awful large dent in that theory...point being, I hate the movies with a passion, and thus I very much enjoyed Vampires Suck because I SWEAR it's a frame by frame mockery of the Twilight movies. Other than that, it has no real value, but if you've seen Twilight...go see it. With friends. And enjoy the roast.
Got back home way late. Great night though.
Right now there's a guy at the SCC with me...roommate of one of my fish camp people, he's kind of been adopted into our group. We're going to grab lunch after this at Sbisa, he seems pretty cool.
So, I guess...I'm done for today. Yeah. Go watch a soccer game, if you haven't. Its really fun.
S'all. No witty sign-off today.
~Kat
Last night was AMAZING.
I will reiterate what I said yesterday: until last night, I had never seen a live soccer game. Never watched a televised one, either. What I didn't bargain on was how freaking INTENSE it is. This was women's soccer, and these chicks are running into each other, knocking each other over, diving, dodging, battering each other's shins...we played Virginia Tech, which someone said is ranked as one of the top teams in the nation? I could see why. It was tough. REALLY tough.
Sat next to this guy I'd only talked to the day before and a girl who was in my cabin...two of my counselors were behind me. So even when I wasn't paying attention it was amazing. That wasn't very often, though--Aggies are LOUD...and we had chants for everything. Oh, and if I didn't understand something, there were a few people willing to explain. Grateful for that, meant I actually understood some of the things that where whizzing right over my head. One of my favorite parts was that one of the counselors (who is a junior) granted us J.P.'s (junior privileges) for the game. That's a big freakin deal, and it was great.
Oh, and best part? We WON. 5-3. A&M, GIVE US ROOM!
After, too, a few of us went and watched Vampires Suck over at Cinemark ($4 movies? they treat college kids well in this town!). Absolutely stupid and ridiculous. I loved it. It's getting framed over my bed. Right over my collection of Stephanie Meyer novels. Yes, I have read Twilight, and watched the movies. I enjoy the books because I imagine Bella as being played by Ellen Page (a.k.a. Juno) and thus as ridiculously sarcastic with everything she says. No WAY is she meant to be serious, I claim, because it's the only thing that keeps me from hating them. Probably why I hate the second book so much, it puts an awful large dent in that theory...point being, I hate the movies with a passion, and thus I very much enjoyed Vampires Suck because I SWEAR it's a frame by frame mockery of the Twilight movies. Other than that, it has no real value, but if you've seen Twilight...go see it. With friends. And enjoy the roast.
Got back home way late. Great night though.
Right now there's a guy at the SCC with me...roommate of one of my fish camp people, he's kind of been adopted into our group. We're going to grab lunch after this at Sbisa, he seems pretty cool.
So, I guess...I'm done for today. Yeah. Go watch a soccer game, if you haven't. Its really fun.
S'all. No witty sign-off today.
~Kat
Friday, August 27, 2010
Gig'em Week Part One: Computers, Spoons, Getting Lost, and Iron Man 2
Definitely haven't had the TIME to get over here...I went to pick up my computer yesterday and found out that MacResource had given my reserved computer to someone who had ordered online. Yeah, I was kinda pissed. I've only got a few minutes though, Dad's coming in to take me to pick up groceries and such, so I'll make this semi-short.
So I've posted all my fish camp blogs...guess I'll start with the interim. Wednesday I woke up to find a message on my facebook telling me that there was a showing of Iron Man 2 over at Rudder that my fish camp group was going to. So, of course I went, after basically chilling all morning, which I definitely needed. My roommate came, and I introduced her to most of my camp friends. Not everyone showed up, but I enjoyed talking to those that did.
Oh, and a note. The counselor who kinda organized this whole shindig kept complaining about the things that went wrong--he said something about the sound quality, and about how hot it was. Now, aside from what I kept telling him that night (i.e., IT WAS FUN, CHILL), I want to explain a little bit about WHY it was fun for those non-believers. First, just talking and enjoying everyone's company was great. Second, we get into the auditorium, and all the fish camps that have come start doing camp cheers! So of course our little group starts screaming our heads off. You can't argue with THAT being fun. I don't think anyone but him even noticed any kind of heat. Oh, and as for sound quality? Didn't notice anything until he pointed it out. Our co-chair freaking out a few seats down was hilarious. Anything else? Oh, yeah--it's freaking IRON MAN. Can't help but love Robert Downey Jr. I have serious love for this movie, anyway, because one of my last memories of high school is of going to the midnight showing of this with two friends the night before an exam (not smart, but epic win!).
Group activities are just FUN. Go by yourself, you may not have a good time, but with groups? The little things just don't matter. Being with people you care about can make cleaning fun. Believe me, it happens, just ask a bunch of theatre kids cleaning a theatre. You put on music and dance, and that sh*t's a playground.
I really am thinking about trying to organize a fish camp H4H (Habitat For Humanity) day. Like a mini Big Event (for you non-Aggies, here's a link: http://bigevent.tamu.edu/. Another reason to love this school!). I like the idea of us all getting together and doing something that might not be fun otherwise that actually makes a difference.
Anyway, back to the storyline. So we get out of the movie, I tease this particular whiny counselor by making him explain in detail why the movie wasn't fun and arguing with him until his eyes are popping out, at which point I relent. I don't know, I laughed.
(Oh, and one more random thing before I continue. Most of the counselors I like--and no, silly children, I don't mean like--are guys. What is up with that??? I like the girls too, of course, I just enjoy talking to the guys more, and I'm not even acting the flirt, swear! Too many guys here on campus to focus my attention now. So what on earth is going on here?? Point being: I need some freaking girl friends. Random thought concluded.)
Then someone mentions something about Spoons, and my co chair gives me and a few others a ride over. For those of you from Arlington, Spoons is basically Pure Bliss. For those of you who just have no idea what I'm talking about, Spoons is a frozen yogurt place with delicious flavors and toppings. Another moment of nostalgia here, remembering: A), homecoming 2009 when an amazing friend drove in from his school and took me to homecoming, although we got rained out and he and I ended up meeting some friends at Chili's and then walking to Pure Bliss in the freezing rain for reasons I STILL don't understand, and, B) walking into that heavenly place after a one-act rehearsal with several other cast/crew members, chilling for a few hours and laughing when our rival school's one-act cast walked in. Ahh, good times. Obviously I felt at home.
Thus, we sat at Spoons for a few hours, just talking and laughing and chilling. I'm liking my life, won't lie.
So, today is Friday...what else? That was Wednesday. So, yesterday morning I get a reminder from my DG leader: free pizza over by Kyle Field, we're meeting! Obviously I can't eat pizza, but I walked over anyway. I took a bunch of pictures, definitely need to post those as soon as I get a computer. Anywho. Walked over, laughed, talked, entertained myself with camp people. Then we went over to play sand volleyball at the Rec. REALLY hot sand. Apparently I can still play all right though--my stamina's gone to hell, but I can still serve well and if I was faster I think I wouldn't have trouble bumping or setting, etc.--problem is getting there, not the movement. I think my freshman 15 may be lost, not gained. I'm not fat, but I'm not in very good shape, and I definitely have about that much to lose, won't lie.
Anyway, volleyball was fun, and I got some good pictures there too. So then my mom comes to pick me up, we go and get lunch, I pick some stuff up from her (rug, hangers, clothes, etc.) We catch up, I tell her about fish camp, she takes me back. I have proper sleep for the first time in a while that night.
Today. Today has been uneventful thus far, although getting here was a chore. Set out this morning with nothing but my cell phone, a bottle of water, and my wits...turns out THAT'S a bad idea. I realized when everyone around me was in Corps (of Cadets) uniforms that I was in the wrong place...somehow I had ended up at the corps dorms, still don't know how THAT happened. So I caught sight of Rudder Tower and made my way there, hoping to find someone who could direct me in the right direction. Lo and behold, I walk in and someone shouts my name. I look over and a guy with his hair in red stripes is standing behind the help center desk. Apparently one of my camp counselors works for Rudder.
Not a little embarrassed (who wants to be lost and thus obviously new, after all?) I walk over. Testimony to the goodness of these people: he teases me not a bit, merely pulls out a map and sends me in the right direction. This being the guy that I traded biting comments with all camp long. Life's funny that way, ain't it.
So here I am, at the Student Computing Center, waiting for my dad to call and let me know he's here. Tonight I am going to watch my first-ever soccer game (hopefully I'll understand what's going on. Can't be that hard...right?), again, with camp people. No plans for tomorrow as of yet. School starts Monday, and I can't wait.
Suppose that's it for now. Au revoir, mes amies.
Mon dieu, je t'aime!
~Kat
So I've posted all my fish camp blogs...guess I'll start with the interim. Wednesday I woke up to find a message on my facebook telling me that there was a showing of Iron Man 2 over at Rudder that my fish camp group was going to. So, of course I went, after basically chilling all morning, which I definitely needed. My roommate came, and I introduced her to most of my camp friends. Not everyone showed up, but I enjoyed talking to those that did.
Oh, and a note. The counselor who kinda organized this whole shindig kept complaining about the things that went wrong--he said something about the sound quality, and about how hot it was. Now, aside from what I kept telling him that night (i.e., IT WAS FUN, CHILL), I want to explain a little bit about WHY it was fun for those non-believers. First, just talking and enjoying everyone's company was great. Second, we get into the auditorium, and all the fish camps that have come start doing camp cheers! So of course our little group starts screaming our heads off. You can't argue with THAT being fun. I don't think anyone but him even noticed any kind of heat. Oh, and as for sound quality? Didn't notice anything until he pointed it out. Our co-chair freaking out a few seats down was hilarious. Anything else? Oh, yeah--it's freaking IRON MAN. Can't help but love Robert Downey Jr. I have serious love for this movie, anyway, because one of my last memories of high school is of going to the midnight showing of this with two friends the night before an exam (not smart, but epic win!).
Group activities are just FUN. Go by yourself, you may not have a good time, but with groups? The little things just don't matter. Being with people you care about can make cleaning fun. Believe me, it happens, just ask a bunch of theatre kids cleaning a theatre. You put on music and dance, and that sh*t's a playground.
I really am thinking about trying to organize a fish camp H4H (Habitat For Humanity) day. Like a mini Big Event (for you non-Aggies, here's a link: http://bigevent.tamu.edu/. Another reason to love this school!). I like the idea of us all getting together and doing something that might not be fun otherwise that actually makes a difference.
Anyway, back to the storyline. So we get out of the movie, I tease this particular whiny counselor by making him explain in detail why the movie wasn't fun and arguing with him until his eyes are popping out, at which point I relent. I don't know, I laughed.
(Oh, and one more random thing before I continue. Most of the counselors I like--and no, silly children, I don't mean like--are guys. What is up with that??? I like the girls too, of course, I just enjoy talking to the guys more, and I'm not even acting the flirt, swear! Too many guys here on campus to focus my attention now. So what on earth is going on here?? Point being: I need some freaking girl friends. Random thought concluded.)
Then someone mentions something about Spoons, and my co chair gives me and a few others a ride over. For those of you from Arlington, Spoons is basically Pure Bliss. For those of you who just have no idea what I'm talking about, Spoons is a frozen yogurt place with delicious flavors and toppings. Another moment of nostalgia here, remembering: A), homecoming 2009 when an amazing friend drove in from his school and took me to homecoming, although we got rained out and he and I ended up meeting some friends at Chili's and then walking to Pure Bliss in the freezing rain for reasons I STILL don't understand, and, B) walking into that heavenly place after a one-act rehearsal with several other cast/crew members, chilling for a few hours and laughing when our rival school's one-act cast walked in. Ahh, good times. Obviously I felt at home.
Thus, we sat at Spoons for a few hours, just talking and laughing and chilling. I'm liking my life, won't lie.
So, today is Friday...what else? That was Wednesday. So, yesterday morning I get a reminder from my DG leader: free pizza over by Kyle Field, we're meeting! Obviously I can't eat pizza, but I walked over anyway. I took a bunch of pictures, definitely need to post those as soon as I get a computer. Anywho. Walked over, laughed, talked, entertained myself with camp people. Then we went over to play sand volleyball at the Rec. REALLY hot sand. Apparently I can still play all right though--my stamina's gone to hell, but I can still serve well and if I was faster I think I wouldn't have trouble bumping or setting, etc.--problem is getting there, not the movement. I think my freshman 15 may be lost, not gained. I'm not fat, but I'm not in very good shape, and I definitely have about that much to lose, won't lie.
Anyway, volleyball was fun, and I got some good pictures there too. So then my mom comes to pick me up, we go and get lunch, I pick some stuff up from her (rug, hangers, clothes, etc.) We catch up, I tell her about fish camp, she takes me back. I have proper sleep for the first time in a while that night.
Today. Today has been uneventful thus far, although getting here was a chore. Set out this morning with nothing but my cell phone, a bottle of water, and my wits...turns out THAT'S a bad idea. I realized when everyone around me was in Corps (of Cadets) uniforms that I was in the wrong place...somehow I had ended up at the corps dorms, still don't know how THAT happened. So I caught sight of Rudder Tower and made my way there, hoping to find someone who could direct me in the right direction. Lo and behold, I walk in and someone shouts my name. I look over and a guy with his hair in red stripes is standing behind the help center desk. Apparently one of my camp counselors works for Rudder.
Not a little embarrassed (who wants to be lost and thus obviously new, after all?) I walk over. Testimony to the goodness of these people: he teases me not a bit, merely pulls out a map and sends me in the right direction. This being the guy that I traded biting comments with all camp long. Life's funny that way, ain't it.
So here I am, at the Student Computing Center, waiting for my dad to call and let me know he's here. Tonight I am going to watch my first-ever soccer game (hopefully I'll understand what's going on. Can't be that hard...right?), again, with camp people. No plans for tomorrow as of yet. School starts Monday, and I can't wait.
Suppose that's it for now. Au revoir, mes amies.
Mon dieu, je t'aime!
~Kat
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Shehane, Shehane, We're Red, You're NOT...(or, Fish Camp Adventures, Day 4)
Ah, well. All good things must end.
I must say, Day 4, despite being our final day, was not nearly as emotional as I might have guessed.
I woke up happy, and ready for school. My revelation the night before did not fade with the night. I felt at peace, and at the same time excited for the future--for once, not afraid of it. We spent the morning in yell practice, eating, packing, exchanges contact information, hugging each other good-bye. We bid our counselors farewell some time after lunch, jumped onto the bus (a very subdued ride home--most people slept. I didn't--music time, was my idea--but there were some good conversations going on as well.) Two hours back to college station, then we got there to find that the luggage van left AFTER we did...so another few hours of sitting around waiting for our bags to get there.
That's really about it. What else can I say? By 5 o'clock I had said my last goodbyes and given my last hugs. I love these people, campers and counselors alike. I have hope for this year now.
I think the moral of this story is, find a group, and you will find a place to be. I doubt Camp Shehane will be the only group I participate in--I'm about to join an entire Theatre community, after all--but it's definitely one I want to stay in touch with. I really admire and respect the people I met over those four days, and I'm grateful to have met them all.
FISH CAMP 2010, NOW THE PARTY CAN BEGIN!!
~Kat
I must say, Day 4, despite being our final day, was not nearly as emotional as I might have guessed.
I woke up happy, and ready for school. My revelation the night before did not fade with the night. I felt at peace, and at the same time excited for the future--for once, not afraid of it. We spent the morning in yell practice, eating, packing, exchanges contact information, hugging each other good-bye. We bid our counselors farewell some time after lunch, jumped onto the bus (a very subdued ride home--most people slept. I didn't--music time, was my idea--but there were some good conversations going on as well.) Two hours back to college station, then we got there to find that the luggage van left AFTER we did...so another few hours of sitting around waiting for our bags to get there.
That's really about it. What else can I say? By 5 o'clock I had said my last goodbyes and given my last hugs. I love these people, campers and counselors alike. I have hope for this year now.
I think the moral of this story is, find a group, and you will find a place to be. I doubt Camp Shehane will be the only group I participate in--I'm about to join an entire Theatre community, after all--but it's definitely one I want to stay in touch with. I really admire and respect the people I met over those four days, and I'm grateful to have met them all.
FISH CAMP 2010, NOW THE PARTY CAN BEGIN!!
~Kat
Cherries, Target, Stop Signs, RED! (Or, Fish Camp Adventures, Day 3)
I slept badly that night. I woke up before everyone else, fidgeting all night with nightmares about my life taking turns I didn't want it to take, worrying about my future, so scared about making the wrong decision. I want badly to succeed, to do things no one else has ever done. I want to direct and write and act and make music and art, and a million other things all at once. It seems impossible, but if you knew the want, this feeling that drives me, you'd understand why it seems possible, if only by a very, very slim chance. I'm terrified of screwing up.
So, you could probably guess that I started off with a bad morning.
Breakfast. Nothing but granola, today, and trying to find a seat with people I don't know yet again. Frustration, boiling over, mixed emotions about what's coming as soon as I get back to College Station, and suddenly mixed emotions about what's going on now. I'm almost angry at Fish Camp for being so amazing, for the counselors for their understanding and kindness--anything that's making me doubt my plans. I've lost my security, and I'm grasping for something, anything to hold on to. "Throw me a lifeline!" I'm practically screaming. "Someone. Anyone! The world is spinning underneath me, and I need help!"
Except I'm not screaming. I'm retreating into myself, as I so often do. And as I pull in, I want more to run, to get away. I need movement, I need energy. Something to do.
Yesterday's activities would have suited me better today. Today, though, it's something different. Something I have dreaded since the first time it was mentioned, and now I don't even remember when that was.
Sharing. God, how I hate that word.
We're supposed to share within our DG's a "defining moment." I immediately know what mine is. The problem is, it embarrasses me on a ton of levels. How do I explain this? I think. How do I make them understand how important it was, how much it changed my life?
I know it sounds stupid. I know that it's almost impossible to tell this story quickly, succinctly, and yet for people to still understand it. First of all, it centers around a guy, and more guys play important parts in it. I hate to think that someone else has had such an important effect on my life because I had a stupid crush, but it's unfortunately true; and yet, if I hadn't felt the way I did, it would never have had the impact it did. Second, it involves me being something I wasn't--and if there's one thing I pride myself on, it's being ruthlessly true to myself. I don't change because someone else wants me to. A memory of acting like someone I wasn't--it's painful to think of. Then, there are the myriad small embarassments: what led to the situation I was in, my own lack of confidence, the fact that even two years over this one person's words ring in my head every time I lose control, like even now he can take me aside and thoroughly chew me out, although I haven't seen him since he left for college. It seems so ridiculous to be so completely out of control of my own mind.
I can't tell the full story here. It's still too raw, too painful, although it's easier than it once was. Still, it would be unfair to tell so much and then not explain to some degree.
We'll start at the beginning. I had a terrible time in elementary school and junior high, so by the time I got to high school I was scared, scared, scared. I had no self-confidence, and that wasn't helped when the first few weeks of school I would sit down at a table and the people there would literally ask me to move. You remember Mean Girls, when Lindsay Lohan's character ends up sitting in a bathroom stall eating her lunch every day? That was me as a freshman.
Then, I got fed up.
I already had a taste for Gothica by the time I hit high school. My best friend was a little vampire in basically every since of the word, and I'd been listening to punk and metal since I was a little kid, with encouragement from my oldest brother and my dad. Edward Scissorhands has been my favorite movie since the tender age of 7, and I've been watching The Nightmare Before Christmas ever since I could remember. It wasn't so unnatural, then, the route I took; but it definitely wasn't all of who I was.
I went Gothic.
Now, I wasn't crazy Goth even then; I was, after all, playing at it more than anything else. Still, I dressed in black every day, wore thick black eyeliner and skull earrings, chains. My parents, at least, had some sense, and refused to let me dye my hair or pierce anything but my ears, and only them once. It's thanks to them that I don't look at photos from my freshman and sophomore year and want to burn them. Now, I just feel a little silly; but what I didn't do in dress, I made up for in attitude. Sarcasm was a weapon, to be used on anyone in the vicinity. I projected, as often as possible, an attitude of cynicism and anger, and woe betide anyone who came near. I came to the conclusion early on that I hated everyone, and everyone hated me, although I desperately craved friendship and open acceptance. I was terrified of more rejections, more pain. I came to the conclusion that it just wasn't worth it.
Sophomore year, that changed. There's more things to add to this story; I went through a tough time, for a long time. I hit my low point by the time a senior boy came into my life and changed it forever.
I met him working a show, and, of course, hated him immediately. He wasn't any nicer to me than I was to him, and it wasn't until months later--after my life blew up in my face--that that really changed.
In some ways, I feel like he forced me to be friends with him. There weren't many people to talk to. Proximity, really, was the only catalyst to this strange friendship. The end result was, though, that we were friends. Uneasy friends, but I respected him and, yes, developed a schoolgirl crush on the guy. Well, he was ridiculously cute.
He said something to me once, right before he went to school, that really stuck with me. We were talking about the people around us, and he asked me why I didn't like people; for once I was honest, and told him that it wasn't that I didn't like them, but it was just...easier. He just sat there for a moment, and I started to feel awkward, started wishing I had said nothing at all. Then, out of the blue he tells me not to hide, that it may be easier, but it isn't better. Then he left, and I don't know that we ever really talked again.
It doesn't make sense, that something so random should have so totally changed my life, but it did. I realized I was just scared, scared to be myself and scared of everyone around me. I didn't want to be scared. I quit hiding, though it took a while. I started reaching out to people, became involved. Stopped hating everyone around me on principle, that's a big one. My senior year, I had so many friends! It's amazing how the attitude you project affects your life. I even got elected to thespian officer for my school. It amazes me still, how great that year was, and I know who I have to thank for it, even if he doesn't.
The problem is, this story makes me really emotional, thinking about how different things could have been. I was borderline suicidal by the time this guy came into my life, and if he hadn't, things might've ended up very, very badly. So, this was my defining moment; but how on earth do I tell them that?
One word at a time, it seems. Slowly, I got the story out, choking on every word. One of my counselors patted my back when I was done. It wasn't the worst story, not by far, but I was the only one in my group to get emotional, and I was horrified. I don't think anyone really knew what to say when I was done. I felt shame just cover me, and I shut up really quickly after that.
That mood stayed with me most of the day. I didn't want to be around anyone, didn't want to see anyone, just wanted to run. We had free time, and I laid down and listened to music, hoping, to calm myself; it didn't work. And here is what it was: all those feelings I'd felt as a freshman, scared and confused, and just wanting to do right? It all came back from the place where I thought I'd banished it. I was afraid again. I wanted to hide.
Eventually, I had to go back to the rest of the camp. I really didn't want to do that. I got there too early, sat by myself, listened to music. People kept asking me to join them. If anyone could have felt the rolling wave of nausea and anxiety that hit me every time, they might have understood better why I said no; as it was, I couldn't explain, and they couldn't understand. They left me alone after a little while, and I was grateful.
Except, unfortunately, one counselor, someone I respect an awful lot, who insisted on sitting by me and dragging it out. How do you explain when you just want someone to leave you alone, to let you get through it, knowing it will pass? It adds another level of disgust at yourself when you feel bad about rejecting someone's help. I didn't want to cry or get emotional; maybe later, if it was still there, but not now, when we're about to do all kinds of fun stuff. This kindness--ah, man, that was hard. Feeling like I did, it was all I could do to keep from breaking down completely.
Eventually, though, he let me be. I think I may have hurt him with some of the things I said to make him go away, and I'm sorry for that.
(I want to interject the storyline here to say something. I said when I started this that I would be ruthlessly honest. Some people are going to be weirded out by me posting all this emotional crap on here, and I understand that completely. I keep wanting to press the delete button; but that wouldn't be honest, would it? This was a part of my fish camp experience, an important part. So just keep reading, and try not to think I'm completely insane.)
To continue:
We went to another yell practice from there, which was exactly what I needed. I got rid of the nervous tension that kept me emotional by screaming my head off, and I perked up pretty quickly. No, I'm not bipolar, movement just makes me feel better.
We went to lunch then. That concerned counselor saved a seat at a table for me (thanks for that, again) and a few people asked if I was ok. I was incredibly touched. I think that things had started to change, right with that.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. We had another mixer (I left this one early, too, this time to play mini-golf with a girl in my DG and then watch an epic foosball battle at the Aquarium). We went back to the camp, for our final campfire.
This time, it was us speaking.
There was a strange mix of somber and light-hearted feelings as we all shared experiences from the camp. At first, I wanted to just stay seated; no point in getting emotional twice in once day! And yet, as the discussion went on and on, and more people were thanked, more people were happy, sharing things that changed them...I wanted to share. I wanted people to know how much they'd touched me, how they'd turned my world around. Yet I didn't. That old foe, Fear, was building up inside me again, keeping me firmly planted on the ground.
Finally, I had to choose: I would do it now, or I wouldn't.
I did it.
I still don't know how. Never in my life have I been so completely terrified. A room full of people, most of whom I didn't know, who didn't know anything about me...but I'd stood up already, and I couldn't back out now. So, somehow, I choked out a few words of thanks to the people who had welcomed me, set me at ease, made this something I was so glad to have been a part of instead of something I cringed to think about. Campers, counselors, everyone had made such a huge impact on me. I was shaking so hard, I don't know how any of it was intelligible (and I'm not sure how much was). I got it out, though, and sat down again quickly.
I expected awkward silence for a moment, and then someone else to get up and say something. I didn't expect thunderous, immediate applause and cheers, and hugs, and people coming up to tell me I was brave or how strong I was or just to say thank you, what I said meant so much--which was what happened. I was completely overwhelmed, and that's when I did get emotional. This was the good kind.
Later, of course, I started second-guessing myself. It seems I got lucky with my counselors; I muttered something about feeling stupid to one of them, and all he said was, "They cheered you, Kat. That's it. That's what it's all about." And, as much as I hated to admit it, he was right.
We split up into our DGs again, to write down something we wanted to let go of, something we wanted to leave behind us in high school. Maybe it's cheesy, but I knew what I wanted to write immediately: FEAR. I scrawled it in big, block letters, folded it up. We trudged down to the lake, lit them on fire, threw them in the lake. It's ironic that mine wouldn't freaking burn. Still, I like the symbolism better in what ended up happening: I watched that little piece of paper slowly sink under the surface, and I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
As for that symbolism? I like it because it's more realistic. The fear's not gone forever; I know that now. But it's a little less, and it surfaces for a shorter time, every time it makes its way up from the dark place it's hidden in. It seems fitting, somehow; and maybe eventually it will completely dissolve, with only traces to show its passing. I'll find out, I suppose.
We came back from the lake, and I was happier than I'd been in years. We went to a rave, the first fish camp rave EVER, and had an amazing time. I let go and enjoyed myself thoroughly; talked to people, danced, chilled, laughed. Was happy. I am happy. I am glad to be here, at this school, with people like those there on that night. Because that's when it all changed. I am no longer a 2%-er, I no longer want to transfer. I am an Aggie, through and through. I think I may have been all along--it just took fish camp to show it to me.
So thank you, one last time, fish campers and counselors, and then the emotional BS will stop, I promise. Thank you for showing me what being an Aggie really means, thank you for caring, thank you for the support, thank you for the kindness. Thank you for my happiness.
That's what it's all about.
Signing off, this is Kat Hinson, a Theatre Major from Arlington, Texas, but most importantly I'm the loudest and proudest most redass member of the fighting Texas Aggie Class of 2014...AAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!
GIG'EM!
So, you could probably guess that I started off with a bad morning.
Breakfast. Nothing but granola, today, and trying to find a seat with people I don't know yet again. Frustration, boiling over, mixed emotions about what's coming as soon as I get back to College Station, and suddenly mixed emotions about what's going on now. I'm almost angry at Fish Camp for being so amazing, for the counselors for their understanding and kindness--anything that's making me doubt my plans. I've lost my security, and I'm grasping for something, anything to hold on to. "Throw me a lifeline!" I'm practically screaming. "Someone. Anyone! The world is spinning underneath me, and I need help!"
Except I'm not screaming. I'm retreating into myself, as I so often do. And as I pull in, I want more to run, to get away. I need movement, I need energy. Something to do.
Yesterday's activities would have suited me better today. Today, though, it's something different. Something I have dreaded since the first time it was mentioned, and now I don't even remember when that was.
Sharing. God, how I hate that word.
We're supposed to share within our DG's a "defining moment." I immediately know what mine is. The problem is, it embarrasses me on a ton of levels. How do I explain this? I think. How do I make them understand how important it was, how much it changed my life?
I know it sounds stupid. I know that it's almost impossible to tell this story quickly, succinctly, and yet for people to still understand it. First of all, it centers around a guy, and more guys play important parts in it. I hate to think that someone else has had such an important effect on my life because I had a stupid crush, but it's unfortunately true; and yet, if I hadn't felt the way I did, it would never have had the impact it did. Second, it involves me being something I wasn't--and if there's one thing I pride myself on, it's being ruthlessly true to myself. I don't change because someone else wants me to. A memory of acting like someone I wasn't--it's painful to think of. Then, there are the myriad small embarassments: what led to the situation I was in, my own lack of confidence, the fact that even two years over this one person's words ring in my head every time I lose control, like even now he can take me aside and thoroughly chew me out, although I haven't seen him since he left for college. It seems so ridiculous to be so completely out of control of my own mind.
I can't tell the full story here. It's still too raw, too painful, although it's easier than it once was. Still, it would be unfair to tell so much and then not explain to some degree.
We'll start at the beginning. I had a terrible time in elementary school and junior high, so by the time I got to high school I was scared, scared, scared. I had no self-confidence, and that wasn't helped when the first few weeks of school I would sit down at a table and the people there would literally ask me to move. You remember Mean Girls, when Lindsay Lohan's character ends up sitting in a bathroom stall eating her lunch every day? That was me as a freshman.
Then, I got fed up.
I already had a taste for Gothica by the time I hit high school. My best friend was a little vampire in basically every since of the word, and I'd been listening to punk and metal since I was a little kid, with encouragement from my oldest brother and my dad. Edward Scissorhands has been my favorite movie since the tender age of 7, and I've been watching The Nightmare Before Christmas ever since I could remember. It wasn't so unnatural, then, the route I took; but it definitely wasn't all of who I was.
I went Gothic.
Now, I wasn't crazy Goth even then; I was, after all, playing at it more than anything else. Still, I dressed in black every day, wore thick black eyeliner and skull earrings, chains. My parents, at least, had some sense, and refused to let me dye my hair or pierce anything but my ears, and only them once. It's thanks to them that I don't look at photos from my freshman and sophomore year and want to burn them. Now, I just feel a little silly; but what I didn't do in dress, I made up for in attitude. Sarcasm was a weapon, to be used on anyone in the vicinity. I projected, as often as possible, an attitude of cynicism and anger, and woe betide anyone who came near. I came to the conclusion early on that I hated everyone, and everyone hated me, although I desperately craved friendship and open acceptance. I was terrified of more rejections, more pain. I came to the conclusion that it just wasn't worth it.
Sophomore year, that changed. There's more things to add to this story; I went through a tough time, for a long time. I hit my low point by the time a senior boy came into my life and changed it forever.
I met him working a show, and, of course, hated him immediately. He wasn't any nicer to me than I was to him, and it wasn't until months later--after my life blew up in my face--that that really changed.
In some ways, I feel like he forced me to be friends with him. There weren't many people to talk to. Proximity, really, was the only catalyst to this strange friendship. The end result was, though, that we were friends. Uneasy friends, but I respected him and, yes, developed a schoolgirl crush on the guy. Well, he was ridiculously cute.
He said something to me once, right before he went to school, that really stuck with me. We were talking about the people around us, and he asked me why I didn't like people; for once I was honest, and told him that it wasn't that I didn't like them, but it was just...easier. He just sat there for a moment, and I started to feel awkward, started wishing I had said nothing at all. Then, out of the blue he tells me not to hide, that it may be easier, but it isn't better. Then he left, and I don't know that we ever really talked again.
It doesn't make sense, that something so random should have so totally changed my life, but it did. I realized I was just scared, scared to be myself and scared of everyone around me. I didn't want to be scared. I quit hiding, though it took a while. I started reaching out to people, became involved. Stopped hating everyone around me on principle, that's a big one. My senior year, I had so many friends! It's amazing how the attitude you project affects your life. I even got elected to thespian officer for my school. It amazes me still, how great that year was, and I know who I have to thank for it, even if he doesn't.
The problem is, this story makes me really emotional, thinking about how different things could have been. I was borderline suicidal by the time this guy came into my life, and if he hadn't, things might've ended up very, very badly. So, this was my defining moment; but how on earth do I tell them that?
One word at a time, it seems. Slowly, I got the story out, choking on every word. One of my counselors patted my back when I was done. It wasn't the worst story, not by far, but I was the only one in my group to get emotional, and I was horrified. I don't think anyone really knew what to say when I was done. I felt shame just cover me, and I shut up really quickly after that.
That mood stayed with me most of the day. I didn't want to be around anyone, didn't want to see anyone, just wanted to run. We had free time, and I laid down and listened to music, hoping, to calm myself; it didn't work. And here is what it was: all those feelings I'd felt as a freshman, scared and confused, and just wanting to do right? It all came back from the place where I thought I'd banished it. I was afraid again. I wanted to hide.
Eventually, I had to go back to the rest of the camp. I really didn't want to do that. I got there too early, sat by myself, listened to music. People kept asking me to join them. If anyone could have felt the rolling wave of nausea and anxiety that hit me every time, they might have understood better why I said no; as it was, I couldn't explain, and they couldn't understand. They left me alone after a little while, and I was grateful.
Except, unfortunately, one counselor, someone I respect an awful lot, who insisted on sitting by me and dragging it out. How do you explain when you just want someone to leave you alone, to let you get through it, knowing it will pass? It adds another level of disgust at yourself when you feel bad about rejecting someone's help. I didn't want to cry or get emotional; maybe later, if it was still there, but not now, when we're about to do all kinds of fun stuff. This kindness--ah, man, that was hard. Feeling like I did, it was all I could do to keep from breaking down completely.
Eventually, though, he let me be. I think I may have hurt him with some of the things I said to make him go away, and I'm sorry for that.
(I want to interject the storyline here to say something. I said when I started this that I would be ruthlessly honest. Some people are going to be weirded out by me posting all this emotional crap on here, and I understand that completely. I keep wanting to press the delete button; but that wouldn't be honest, would it? This was a part of my fish camp experience, an important part. So just keep reading, and try not to think I'm completely insane.)
To continue:
We went to another yell practice from there, which was exactly what I needed. I got rid of the nervous tension that kept me emotional by screaming my head off, and I perked up pretty quickly. No, I'm not bipolar, movement just makes me feel better.
We went to lunch then. That concerned counselor saved a seat at a table for me (thanks for that, again) and a few people asked if I was ok. I was incredibly touched. I think that things had started to change, right with that.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. We had another mixer (I left this one early, too, this time to play mini-golf with a girl in my DG and then watch an epic foosball battle at the Aquarium). We went back to the camp, for our final campfire.
This time, it was us speaking.
There was a strange mix of somber and light-hearted feelings as we all shared experiences from the camp. At first, I wanted to just stay seated; no point in getting emotional twice in once day! And yet, as the discussion went on and on, and more people were thanked, more people were happy, sharing things that changed them...I wanted to share. I wanted people to know how much they'd touched me, how they'd turned my world around. Yet I didn't. That old foe, Fear, was building up inside me again, keeping me firmly planted on the ground.
Finally, I had to choose: I would do it now, or I wouldn't.
I did it.
I still don't know how. Never in my life have I been so completely terrified. A room full of people, most of whom I didn't know, who didn't know anything about me...but I'd stood up already, and I couldn't back out now. So, somehow, I choked out a few words of thanks to the people who had welcomed me, set me at ease, made this something I was so glad to have been a part of instead of something I cringed to think about. Campers, counselors, everyone had made such a huge impact on me. I was shaking so hard, I don't know how any of it was intelligible (and I'm not sure how much was). I got it out, though, and sat down again quickly.
I expected awkward silence for a moment, and then someone else to get up and say something. I didn't expect thunderous, immediate applause and cheers, and hugs, and people coming up to tell me I was brave or how strong I was or just to say thank you, what I said meant so much--which was what happened. I was completely overwhelmed, and that's when I did get emotional. This was the good kind.
Later, of course, I started second-guessing myself. It seems I got lucky with my counselors; I muttered something about feeling stupid to one of them, and all he said was, "They cheered you, Kat. That's it. That's what it's all about." And, as much as I hated to admit it, he was right.
We split up into our DGs again, to write down something we wanted to let go of, something we wanted to leave behind us in high school. Maybe it's cheesy, but I knew what I wanted to write immediately: FEAR. I scrawled it in big, block letters, folded it up. We trudged down to the lake, lit them on fire, threw them in the lake. It's ironic that mine wouldn't freaking burn. Still, I like the symbolism better in what ended up happening: I watched that little piece of paper slowly sink under the surface, and I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
As for that symbolism? I like it because it's more realistic. The fear's not gone forever; I know that now. But it's a little less, and it surfaces for a shorter time, every time it makes its way up from the dark place it's hidden in. It seems fitting, somehow; and maybe eventually it will completely dissolve, with only traces to show its passing. I'll find out, I suppose.
We came back from the lake, and I was happier than I'd been in years. We went to a rave, the first fish camp rave EVER, and had an amazing time. I let go and enjoyed myself thoroughly; talked to people, danced, chilled, laughed. Was happy. I am happy. I am glad to be here, at this school, with people like those there on that night. Because that's when it all changed. I am no longer a 2%-er, I no longer want to transfer. I am an Aggie, through and through. I think I may have been all along--it just took fish camp to show it to me.
So thank you, one last time, fish campers and counselors, and then the emotional BS will stop, I promise. Thank you for showing me what being an Aggie really means, thank you for caring, thank you for the support, thank you for the kindness. Thank you for my happiness.
That's what it's all about.
Signing off, this is Kat Hinson, a Theatre Major from Arlington, Texas, but most importantly I'm the loudest and proudest most redass member of the fighting Texas Aggie Class of 2014...AAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!
GIG'EM!
Blood! Team Edward! Abs! Team Jacob! (or, Fish Camp Adventures Day 2)
Second day of fish camp 2010 dawned bright and early. Too early, after a dance party the night before. All of my cabin and I groaned our way out of bed, blearily stumbling around. I can only imagine what it was like for the counselors, who had been up for what, two days straight I believe? I know I was dead tired already, and it had been one day.
So. Breakfast happened. I brought up the rear with my own, knowing they probably would have nothing I could eat (I have Celiac's for those of you who don't know me). I was very right--they handed me two hardboiled eggs. Yay. But it was protein, and there was a fruit bar I could mostly eat, so together with my lovely Udi's gluten-free granola all was well.
I can't even remember fully everything we did that day, or what order it was in, so I'm going to try and guess. I know we went to the main area and gathered for more presentations on TAMU resources and such. And I know that morning we also went and played games at what was basically a pavilion (not my favorite moment--I'd never played most of the group ones, and it was kind of annoying, not to mention confusing, when I had no idea what was going on. Of course, I'm clueless a lot of the time, so that's not unusual. It's still frustrating.) When we split into our DGs, that was better...we hit the high 80s in Moonball (is that really the name for it, or were they just being fancy? It's the game where you keep the ball in the air as long as possible. Seems kind of silly to name it if you ask me), which was cool. And we did some fun jump-rope tricks with another group. I managed to get through it without humiliating myself, which was perfectly lovely. After all these sports and such were more skits (again, hillarious) and then lunch. I was dragging a little behind and managed to be last in line--nothing I hate more than walking into an almost full cafeteria and trying to find an empty seat.
This was horrible, won't lie. I walk in to the Red Camp area dead last, and there's not a seat left in the whole damn place that I can see. I walk around for probably 5, 10 minutes trying to find a spot. Finally one of my counselors notices my sad plight and finds me a seat at the end of a table--awkward, but better than sitting in the bathroom to eat like I was contemplating. Thank goodness for goodness.
I spend lunch in kind of a quiet haze--I haven't met any of the people I'm sitting with, but they obviously know each other. They're nice, though, very welcoming of my kicked-puppy status, and it works out ok. Lunch itself is, on the other hand, disgusting. Last night they gave me a dry chicken breast with pepper on it for my meal (the whole gluten-free thing); today it's...the same. I will find out over the next few days that I will eat a small, dry chicken breast and a bowl of lettuce and olives (can't even really be called a salad) for 6 meals over four days.
Food aside, the day goes pretty well. Afternoon is made up of more videos, more games, more DG time, more chilling. We have a shaving cream fight that coats us all head to toe with Bar-ba-sol, and spend an hour more in the sun rinsing off one by one with a hose. We go to a dance at 7:30--flashback mixer. I feel awkwardly overdressed in my 70s style dress, but it's fun for a little while, while they play some music I know. Then the rap hits. Now, there are two genres of music in the world that I hate passionately, and while I occasionally like a song from either, they don't make me like the genre as a whole any better. One of these is rap. (The other is country, but that comes later.) So, I'm bored out of my skull after a few minutes of bobbing in place. One of my counselors agrees with me on the subject, and we head down to the Aquarium (full of foosball and ping pong and pool, oh my!), where we play foosball for the next hour or so. We beat another group by a few points (not a small feat, in my opinion-I'm wearing a dress and my hair keeps falling in my face, and since I'm goalie, it's a lot harder than it usually is for me.)
Then, we have to go back to the dance floor. We do the Aggie War Hymn, and leave to go back to campfire. Tonight is a little more somber, and yet a little more at ease. I feel bad about saying this--our speakers were our co-chairs, and what they had to say was really interesting--but after they had shared their personal stories that made me personally get teary, they gave us a talk on "building our TAMU house". These guys are pretty eloquent and relatable, but I just couldn't keep my mind on it--my head was spinning with all kinds of new thoughts. Could I actually like A&M? I'm certainly enjoying fish camp, even with the awkward "I need to find a place to sit!" annoyingness every day. Do I actually want to go here?
Maybe you're thinking, that must be a good thing, right? Yet, it's not that easy. Sure, I'd love ot be happy at A&M, but it's a hard thought to wrestle with. For years now my biggest dream has been to go to New York, to graduate from Columbia University, a school I've been in love with since they sent me a copy of "Some Blue Notes" and I saw they did a production of 12th Night on the steps of the library every year. My sophomore year of high school my parents took me to New York specifically to tour Columbia. I felt right at home on the campus, staring at the beautiful old buildings and dreaming about walking those halls as a student. The people were friendly, it was in New York--the Mecca of theatre goers--and it seemed perfect. Since I found out I would not, in fact, be going there, I've been debating about whether or not to try and transfer. I don't like the thought of having to start all over again, but I figure there's no way I can be happy at A&M. There's very little theatre. My mom had pushed me toward UT with the idea that if I hated school theatre, there was plenty of community theatre I could involve myself in. Since I'm a theatre major, this is kind of a big deal to me. I don't know what I'll do if this department is a bad fit. I may have to switch majors, if I want to stay at A&M, or switch schools if I don't. Of course, up to now me actually liking A&M hasn't been an idea that crossed my mind very often. I treated this first year of college grimly, like an exam I had to take. I have been of the opinion that if I want to have a good college experience, I'm going to need to transfer.
Now, everything is different. I love the traditions of this school. Some are goofy and fun, some are incredibly touching (i.e., Silver Taps and Muster). I find myself dreaming about my children calling for me at Muster, hopefully more than 50 years from now. I think about football games and yells, and even about wanting to be a fish camp counselor. All my plans, my dreams, my ideas about my future are being turned around. I don't know what I want anymore, and it terrifies me.
Thus filled with doubts and frustration, I make it through campfire time with one ear to the outside and one on my own private struggle. I don't really know how I feel about A&M anymore. I know how I feel about fish camp--these people are fantastic. But A&M itself...well. I'm starting to doubt myself, my decisions. What if A&M is exactly where I should be? But what if I stay here, and it destroys my carefully planned out life? I hate being confused and unsure. I want to know what's going on, where I'm going, how I'm going to get there; I want to have a plan. Liking A&M is not part of the plan.
I'm not in the mood for dancing by the time everything's done with, obviously. So when everyone else starts up the strobe and antics in the center of the dance floor, I head outside and sit for a while, thinking. I don't want to go back to my cabin-I don't want to be alone-but I don't want to sit on a dance floor in the mood I'm in. One of the counselors (Gotta love 'em) finds me like this, and takes me to a room where we play a game that confuses the hell out of me, but is entertaining all the same. I have fun until it's time to go back to the cabins, at which point I crash into bed, all fears forgotten for the moment.
So. Breakfast happened. I brought up the rear with my own, knowing they probably would have nothing I could eat (I have Celiac's for those of you who don't know me). I was very right--they handed me two hardboiled eggs. Yay. But it was protein, and there was a fruit bar I could mostly eat, so together with my lovely Udi's gluten-free granola all was well.
I can't even remember fully everything we did that day, or what order it was in, so I'm going to try and guess. I know we went to the main area and gathered for more presentations on TAMU resources and such. And I know that morning we also went and played games at what was basically a pavilion (not my favorite moment--I'd never played most of the group ones, and it was kind of annoying, not to mention confusing, when I had no idea what was going on. Of course, I'm clueless a lot of the time, so that's not unusual. It's still frustrating.) When we split into our DGs, that was better...we hit the high 80s in Moonball (is that really the name for it, or were they just being fancy? It's the game where you keep the ball in the air as long as possible. Seems kind of silly to name it if you ask me), which was cool. And we did some fun jump-rope tricks with another group. I managed to get through it without humiliating myself, which was perfectly lovely. After all these sports and such were more skits (again, hillarious) and then lunch. I was dragging a little behind and managed to be last in line--nothing I hate more than walking into an almost full cafeteria and trying to find an empty seat.
This was horrible, won't lie. I walk in to the Red Camp area dead last, and there's not a seat left in the whole damn place that I can see. I walk around for probably 5, 10 minutes trying to find a spot. Finally one of my counselors notices my sad plight and finds me a seat at the end of a table--awkward, but better than sitting in the bathroom to eat like I was contemplating. Thank goodness for goodness.
I spend lunch in kind of a quiet haze--I haven't met any of the people I'm sitting with, but they obviously know each other. They're nice, though, very welcoming of my kicked-puppy status, and it works out ok. Lunch itself is, on the other hand, disgusting. Last night they gave me a dry chicken breast with pepper on it for my meal (the whole gluten-free thing); today it's...the same. I will find out over the next few days that I will eat a small, dry chicken breast and a bowl of lettuce and olives (can't even really be called a salad) for 6 meals over four days.
Food aside, the day goes pretty well. Afternoon is made up of more videos, more games, more DG time, more chilling. We have a shaving cream fight that coats us all head to toe with Bar-ba-sol, and spend an hour more in the sun rinsing off one by one with a hose. We go to a dance at 7:30--flashback mixer. I feel awkwardly overdressed in my 70s style dress, but it's fun for a little while, while they play some music I know. Then the rap hits. Now, there are two genres of music in the world that I hate passionately, and while I occasionally like a song from either, they don't make me like the genre as a whole any better. One of these is rap. (The other is country, but that comes later.) So, I'm bored out of my skull after a few minutes of bobbing in place. One of my counselors agrees with me on the subject, and we head down to the Aquarium (full of foosball and ping pong and pool, oh my!), where we play foosball for the next hour or so. We beat another group by a few points (not a small feat, in my opinion-I'm wearing a dress and my hair keeps falling in my face, and since I'm goalie, it's a lot harder than it usually is for me.)
Then, we have to go back to the dance floor. We do the Aggie War Hymn, and leave to go back to campfire. Tonight is a little more somber, and yet a little more at ease. I feel bad about saying this--our speakers were our co-chairs, and what they had to say was really interesting--but after they had shared their personal stories that made me personally get teary, they gave us a talk on "building our TAMU house". These guys are pretty eloquent and relatable, but I just couldn't keep my mind on it--my head was spinning with all kinds of new thoughts. Could I actually like A&M? I'm certainly enjoying fish camp, even with the awkward "I need to find a place to sit!" annoyingness every day. Do I actually want to go here?
Maybe you're thinking, that must be a good thing, right? Yet, it's not that easy. Sure, I'd love ot be happy at A&M, but it's a hard thought to wrestle with. For years now my biggest dream has been to go to New York, to graduate from Columbia University, a school I've been in love with since they sent me a copy of "Some Blue Notes" and I saw they did a production of 12th Night on the steps of the library every year. My sophomore year of high school my parents took me to New York specifically to tour Columbia. I felt right at home on the campus, staring at the beautiful old buildings and dreaming about walking those halls as a student. The people were friendly, it was in New York--the Mecca of theatre goers--and it seemed perfect. Since I found out I would not, in fact, be going there, I've been debating about whether or not to try and transfer. I don't like the thought of having to start all over again, but I figure there's no way I can be happy at A&M. There's very little theatre. My mom had pushed me toward UT with the idea that if I hated school theatre, there was plenty of community theatre I could involve myself in. Since I'm a theatre major, this is kind of a big deal to me. I don't know what I'll do if this department is a bad fit. I may have to switch majors, if I want to stay at A&M, or switch schools if I don't. Of course, up to now me actually liking A&M hasn't been an idea that crossed my mind very often. I treated this first year of college grimly, like an exam I had to take. I have been of the opinion that if I want to have a good college experience, I'm going to need to transfer.
Now, everything is different. I love the traditions of this school. Some are goofy and fun, some are incredibly touching (i.e., Silver Taps and Muster). I find myself dreaming about my children calling for me at Muster, hopefully more than 50 years from now. I think about football games and yells, and even about wanting to be a fish camp counselor. All my plans, my dreams, my ideas about my future are being turned around. I don't know what I want anymore, and it terrifies me.
Thus filled with doubts and frustration, I make it through campfire time with one ear to the outside and one on my own private struggle. I don't really know how I feel about A&M anymore. I know how I feel about fish camp--these people are fantastic. But A&M itself...well. I'm starting to doubt myself, my decisions. What if A&M is exactly where I should be? But what if I stay here, and it destroys my carefully planned out life? I hate being confused and unsure. I want to know what's going on, where I'm going, how I'm going to get there; I want to have a plan. Liking A&M is not part of the plan.
I'm not in the mood for dancing by the time everything's done with, obviously. So when everyone else starts up the strobe and antics in the center of the dance floor, I head outside and sit for a while, thinking. I don't want to go back to my cabin-I don't want to be alone-but I don't want to sit on a dance floor in the mood I'm in. One of the counselors (Gotta love 'em) finds me like this, and takes me to a room where we play a game that confuses the hell out of me, but is entertaining all the same. I have fun until it's time to go back to the cabins, at which point I crash into bed, all fears forgotten for the moment.
S-H-E-H-A-N-E! That's how we spell EPIC! (or, fish camp adventures day 1)
All right, so. Fish camp 2010.
I spent the night with my parents in hotel on Friday night (the dorms were pretty creepy mostly empty like they were) after making a 3 hour target run and picking up the necessities of life. Not much fun-my dad snores like a dragon, so neither my mom nor I got much sleep. Woke up at 6 and started getting ready...I still had to pack everything up. So we finally get out the door at around 7:30 and I realize I bought two conditioners last night instead of a shampoo and a conditioner, so we run through Kroger and pick up shampoo. My whole family is freaking out at this point, because we get there about 7:54--just in time, we think. Oh, the irony.
We get to Reed Arena, and are greeted by a bunch of people who have spiked and died their hair strange colors, wearing tutus, ribbons, boas, and anything else you can think of. My mom turns around, takes one look at my green face and says, "You sure you want to do this?" It's all I can do to step out of the car when we stop. I don't have time to think about it, though, because as soon as I do this girl whisks away my luggage and basically tugs me towards the sign-in. She's very friendly, though.
I go to the sign-in table, and they give me my id/book of camp info, and apparently I'm in the Red Group (otherwise known--and later known to me--as CAMP SHEHANE.) When I get pulled to that area, I'm accosted by one guy with a red mohawk screaming in my face and waving what looks like a wooden spear, and there's another guy running around with a red skull on a stick, and a guy with a really creepy expression holding a stick with a baby doll head on it...a little panicked at this point, won't lie. Then I sign in, and a nice, CALM guy helps me put my bedding into a trash bag, and directs another guy to take me to the arena. He's nice, friendly, introduces himself, isn't jumping around like a maniac, and offers to take my backpack. Kind of weird, because that's all I'm carrying, but whatever, it's all good. So this guy takes me to check-in with the co-chairs--and I remember he's walking really fast, and I don't have time to run or even think about what's happening--and before I know it, I'm walking into a barely populated arena with about 3 people ahead of me in the Red Group, sitting in the bleachers, and a few counselors, all of whom scream, "Do you wanna have a slumber party in my basement?" in really monotone voices. I, of course, don't know Ke$ha, and only find out later that this is from a song; thus, it's really creepy. I sit down though, which is more impressive than it sounds. These people are freaking WEIRD. Weirdly cheerful, weirdly energetic, just all around weird. Oh well, I like weird people, right?
So. I sit down. Immediately I'm introctrinated to my first camp Shehane yell:
Blood, team Edward, blood blood, team Edward!
Abs, team Jacob, abs abs, team Jacob!
followed by our lovely camp yell, which originally consisted of a segment of "What do Tigers dream of" from The Hangover and had various things tacked on through four days. All I can do at this point is laugh. I'm here, I might as well enjoy it. And since its four guys and girls using Twilight as a yell, I can't help but laugh at that, period.
About then is where I find out that 8 o'clock...is the start time for arrival. There's 77 people in our camp. I'm the fourth to arrive.
It's going to be a long morning.
Annnnd...it was. I, in my rush to get there on time, forgot to eat breakfast, although luckily I had some granola bars with me. So I spent a lot of the morning really hungry, as slowly the stands behind me filled up. There were about 5 counselors that were pretty constant, 3 girls and 2 guys, and more cycled in and out. They were all very friendly and outgoing, and really very funny. I started to realize that all the crazyness was for fun, and started to relax. By the time everyone got there I knew most of the yells, and was screaming "do you wanna have a slumber party in my basement?" with the best of them. I was actually one of those there when we decided to add on to our camp yell, and to know where the joke came from: at aroud 20 people we realized that this would be a fairly large party, and of course, we'd need more chips. Thus: moooooooooooooore chips!
Ok, yeah, so I got sucked in. It didn't take long. The atmosphere these people put on was incredibly infectious, I felt more awkward being secluded than just joining in. And once I joined in, it quit being awkward completely and just became fun.
Oh, and one enormously lovely thing. When you're part of a crowd, you don't feel alone. I think some of the easiest moments for me over that week was just screaming Camp Shehane yells with 70+ other people.
Anywho. So we set out at around 11 for the actual camp. They serve us food on the bus, and there's a few more counselors there I haven't been introduced to. One guy is a real smart ass, and of course when I'm nervous I'm really sarcastic, more so than usual...so we sort of battled one another every time we had cause. I enjoyed it thoroughly, reminded me of home if I'm honest. I didn't really have much interaction with this particular counselor other than that (we crossed paths a few times, and every time he had a biting comment for me), but it brightened up the first day considerably on the scale regarding my individual self. I had started to think sarcasm had been left at home.
We played some really strange games on the bus there. The speed dating one was fun (moving around the bus talking to almost everyone), but the stand up/sit down find your soulmate thing was really boring, partly because you could never hear what was going on. I was a little disappointed, my phone died so when we started quieting down I couldn't listen to music.
When we finally got to the camp, we had the usual things...introduction to camp, some fun screaming and bouncing around...we loaded our stuff into our cabins, and headed to a particular cabin for Camp Time. I think this was about when we got sorted into DGs (Discussion Groups). I kept hoping I'd be in a DG with someone I had actually talked to. Unfortunately (I thought at first) I was in a group with two people I definitely hadn't met. Unless the girl is the one who signed me in at the Red table...and the guy is the one with the baby doll head on a stick...uh-oh. This may be bad, I think.
So we go to dinner. Then we go to a presentation on Aggie traditions. Then we go to Camp Time. (And yes, I'm using my schedule as a reference. Just too much to remember otherwise!) I think this is when I finally feel like this could be a good thing.
See, I haven't really talked much to my counselors; but of course I'm skeptical. When we go back to the Red Room, the counselors start putting on skits. I notice my male DG leader is pulled out of the room. I'm wondering what's going on, but put it out of my head as soon as the first skit is done (and honestly, I can't even remember what it was...there were so many really funny ones. They did a really amazing job with that part of camp.) A few minutes later, I hear the opening chords to Iron Man (Black Sabbath if any of you don't know). I start laughing, of course; I was raised on classic rock and metal, and my dad has been quizzing me on it since I could think for myself. Black Sabbath's one of his favorites; ever since I can remember he and I would scream out "Paranoid" late at night on the way home. I would look over at stoplights and he would be playing air guitar or headbanging. (I love my dad.)
Point being, all I'd heard music-wise to date was party pop and rap. This was refreshing, and my interest was peaked at once.
Then the doors opened. My mouth fell open, and I immediately realized, ok, this is going to be better than ok. This is going to be GREAT.
Coming through the doorway is my DG leader. He's wearing a really poofy, curly wig, a bright red tutu, a black tube top, fishnets, and what looks like women's square-toed boots. Now, to really get an understanding of what this looks like, you'll have to know what my DG leader looks like. He is, first of all, hairy. Really, really hairy. And he's dark; dark skin, black hair. He's pretty muscular too; you definitely couldn't mistake him for a woman, like you can with some guys when they wear women's clothing. All in all, he looks a lot like Dr. Frankenfurter.
Most people this would scare. For me, it feels like home. See, I celebrated my 18th birthday by going to see The Rocky Horror Picture Show with my friends. I dressed up as Columbia, and one of my best friends who I will never stop thanking for doing this and providing us all with such great entertainment dressed up as Dr. F. We also had a Magenta and some Unconvential Conventialists. So if nothing else could put me at ease, a guy dressing up in fishnets? Oh yeah. This is gonna be good.
What makes it even better is the role he was playing. I notice as he walks through that he's got wings on, and when he gets on the stage he finally reveals his costume: he is the "Rumour fairy", he says, speaking in a high pitched voice, and he pulls out a box with some slips of paper, where he reads rumours about the camp and labels them "rumour" or "not a rumour", as well as calling them "saucy" and "juicy". We're rolling at this point, or at least I am. And another fear is put at ease; not knowing my DGs, I'm of course worried I won't like them. Although I don't know the other very well yet, just seeing this I know this guy will be fun, if nothing else. I mean, as a guy, how do you have the guts to walk out in front of a group of 70+ wearing fishnets and a tutu--a TUTU-- if you aren't somewhat cool. I don't know that it's possible. So, I feel better already. It's amazing what acting ridiculous can do for the people around you.
So. Rumour fairy is gone. We go to Yell Practice, which is great (what else can I say? It's screaming with a room full of people, of course it's fun). Then we transition to Campfire, which is kind of cheesy but fun all the same. Our namesakes come and talk to us, telling us about how fish camp can change your life, and I'm starting to believe it by that point. They seem like really amazing people (and they are, I can tell you that already).
Then we have camp time. We have a random dance party in the Red Room--epic, epic win, at least for a while. It's no music that I know, but it's fun, and there's a strobe light going, which is always great. About fifteen minutes before we have to be back at our cabins I start heading back--the strobe has finally gotten to me and my head's hurting, so it's a relief to jump in the shower and crawl into bed. I'm not happy-not yet-but I'm definitely more at ease.
There's a yell we laughed about quite a bit...something about "first day: this is awkward, this is awkward". There was definitely some truth in that; but on the whole, I think the first day went pretty well. Maybe this will be fun, I think, about to fall asleep.
Little did I know. But, thus ended day 1 of fish camp. Stay tuned for more adventures.
I spent the night with my parents in hotel on Friday night (the dorms were pretty creepy mostly empty like they were) after making a 3 hour target run and picking up the necessities of life. Not much fun-my dad snores like a dragon, so neither my mom nor I got much sleep. Woke up at 6 and started getting ready...I still had to pack everything up. So we finally get out the door at around 7:30 and I realize I bought two conditioners last night instead of a shampoo and a conditioner, so we run through Kroger and pick up shampoo. My whole family is freaking out at this point, because we get there about 7:54--just in time, we think. Oh, the irony.
We get to Reed Arena, and are greeted by a bunch of people who have spiked and died their hair strange colors, wearing tutus, ribbons, boas, and anything else you can think of. My mom turns around, takes one look at my green face and says, "You sure you want to do this?" It's all I can do to step out of the car when we stop. I don't have time to think about it, though, because as soon as I do this girl whisks away my luggage and basically tugs me towards the sign-in. She's very friendly, though.
I go to the sign-in table, and they give me my id/book of camp info, and apparently I'm in the Red Group (otherwise known--and later known to me--as CAMP SHEHANE.) When I get pulled to that area, I'm accosted by one guy with a red mohawk screaming in my face and waving what looks like a wooden spear, and there's another guy running around with a red skull on a stick, and a guy with a really creepy expression holding a stick with a baby doll head on it...a little panicked at this point, won't lie. Then I sign in, and a nice, CALM guy helps me put my bedding into a trash bag, and directs another guy to take me to the arena. He's nice, friendly, introduces himself, isn't jumping around like a maniac, and offers to take my backpack. Kind of weird, because that's all I'm carrying, but whatever, it's all good. So this guy takes me to check-in with the co-chairs--and I remember he's walking really fast, and I don't have time to run or even think about what's happening--and before I know it, I'm walking into a barely populated arena with about 3 people ahead of me in the Red Group, sitting in the bleachers, and a few counselors, all of whom scream, "Do you wanna have a slumber party in my basement?" in really monotone voices. I, of course, don't know Ke$ha, and only find out later that this is from a song; thus, it's really creepy. I sit down though, which is more impressive than it sounds. These people are freaking WEIRD. Weirdly cheerful, weirdly energetic, just all around weird. Oh well, I like weird people, right?
So. I sit down. Immediately I'm introctrinated to my first camp Shehane yell:
Blood, team Edward, blood blood, team Edward!
Abs, team Jacob, abs abs, team Jacob!
followed by our lovely camp yell, which originally consisted of a segment of "What do Tigers dream of" from The Hangover and had various things tacked on through four days. All I can do at this point is laugh. I'm here, I might as well enjoy it. And since its four guys and girls using Twilight as a yell, I can't help but laugh at that, period.
About then is where I find out that 8 o'clock...is the start time for arrival. There's 77 people in our camp. I'm the fourth to arrive.
It's going to be a long morning.
Annnnd...it was. I, in my rush to get there on time, forgot to eat breakfast, although luckily I had some granola bars with me. So I spent a lot of the morning really hungry, as slowly the stands behind me filled up. There were about 5 counselors that were pretty constant, 3 girls and 2 guys, and more cycled in and out. They were all very friendly and outgoing, and really very funny. I started to realize that all the crazyness was for fun, and started to relax. By the time everyone got there I knew most of the yells, and was screaming "do you wanna have a slumber party in my basement?" with the best of them. I was actually one of those there when we decided to add on to our camp yell, and to know where the joke came from: at aroud 20 people we realized that this would be a fairly large party, and of course, we'd need more chips. Thus: moooooooooooooore chips!
Ok, yeah, so I got sucked in. It didn't take long. The atmosphere these people put on was incredibly infectious, I felt more awkward being secluded than just joining in. And once I joined in, it quit being awkward completely and just became fun.
Oh, and one enormously lovely thing. When you're part of a crowd, you don't feel alone. I think some of the easiest moments for me over that week was just screaming Camp Shehane yells with 70+ other people.
Anywho. So we set out at around 11 for the actual camp. They serve us food on the bus, and there's a few more counselors there I haven't been introduced to. One guy is a real smart ass, and of course when I'm nervous I'm really sarcastic, more so than usual...so we sort of battled one another every time we had cause. I enjoyed it thoroughly, reminded me of home if I'm honest. I didn't really have much interaction with this particular counselor other than that (we crossed paths a few times, and every time he had a biting comment for me), but it brightened up the first day considerably on the scale regarding my individual self. I had started to think sarcasm had been left at home.
We played some really strange games on the bus there. The speed dating one was fun (moving around the bus talking to almost everyone), but the stand up/sit down find your soulmate thing was really boring, partly because you could never hear what was going on. I was a little disappointed, my phone died so when we started quieting down I couldn't listen to music.
When we finally got to the camp, we had the usual things...introduction to camp, some fun screaming and bouncing around...we loaded our stuff into our cabins, and headed to a particular cabin for Camp Time. I think this was about when we got sorted into DGs (Discussion Groups). I kept hoping I'd be in a DG with someone I had actually talked to. Unfortunately (I thought at first) I was in a group with two people I definitely hadn't met. Unless the girl is the one who signed me in at the Red table...and the guy is the one with the baby doll head on a stick...uh-oh. This may be bad, I think.
So we go to dinner. Then we go to a presentation on Aggie traditions. Then we go to Camp Time. (And yes, I'm using my schedule as a reference. Just too much to remember otherwise!) I think this is when I finally feel like this could be a good thing.
See, I haven't really talked much to my counselors; but of course I'm skeptical. When we go back to the Red Room, the counselors start putting on skits. I notice my male DG leader is pulled out of the room. I'm wondering what's going on, but put it out of my head as soon as the first skit is done (and honestly, I can't even remember what it was...there were so many really funny ones. They did a really amazing job with that part of camp.) A few minutes later, I hear the opening chords to Iron Man (Black Sabbath if any of you don't know). I start laughing, of course; I was raised on classic rock and metal, and my dad has been quizzing me on it since I could think for myself. Black Sabbath's one of his favorites; ever since I can remember he and I would scream out "Paranoid" late at night on the way home. I would look over at stoplights and he would be playing air guitar or headbanging. (I love my dad.)
Point being, all I'd heard music-wise to date was party pop and rap. This was refreshing, and my interest was peaked at once.
Then the doors opened. My mouth fell open, and I immediately realized, ok, this is going to be better than ok. This is going to be GREAT.
Coming through the doorway is my DG leader. He's wearing a really poofy, curly wig, a bright red tutu, a black tube top, fishnets, and what looks like women's square-toed boots. Now, to really get an understanding of what this looks like, you'll have to know what my DG leader looks like. He is, first of all, hairy. Really, really hairy. And he's dark; dark skin, black hair. He's pretty muscular too; you definitely couldn't mistake him for a woman, like you can with some guys when they wear women's clothing. All in all, he looks a lot like Dr. Frankenfurter.
Most people this would scare. For me, it feels like home. See, I celebrated my 18th birthday by going to see The Rocky Horror Picture Show with my friends. I dressed up as Columbia, and one of my best friends who I will never stop thanking for doing this and providing us all with such great entertainment dressed up as Dr. F. We also had a Magenta and some Unconvential Conventialists. So if nothing else could put me at ease, a guy dressing up in fishnets? Oh yeah. This is gonna be good.
What makes it even better is the role he was playing. I notice as he walks through that he's got wings on, and when he gets on the stage he finally reveals his costume: he is the "Rumour fairy", he says, speaking in a high pitched voice, and he pulls out a box with some slips of paper, where he reads rumours about the camp and labels them "rumour" or "not a rumour", as well as calling them "saucy" and "juicy". We're rolling at this point, or at least I am. And another fear is put at ease; not knowing my DGs, I'm of course worried I won't like them. Although I don't know the other very well yet, just seeing this I know this guy will be fun, if nothing else. I mean, as a guy, how do you have the guts to walk out in front of a group of 70+ wearing fishnets and a tutu--a TUTU-- if you aren't somewhat cool. I don't know that it's possible. So, I feel better already. It's amazing what acting ridiculous can do for the people around you.
So. Rumour fairy is gone. We go to Yell Practice, which is great (what else can I say? It's screaming with a room full of people, of course it's fun). Then we transition to Campfire, which is kind of cheesy but fun all the same. Our namesakes come and talk to us, telling us about how fish camp can change your life, and I'm starting to believe it by that point. They seem like really amazing people (and they are, I can tell you that already).
Then we have camp time. We have a random dance party in the Red Room--epic, epic win, at least for a while. It's no music that I know, but it's fun, and there's a strobe light going, which is always great. About fifteen minutes before we have to be back at our cabins I start heading back--the strobe has finally gotten to me and my head's hurting, so it's a relief to jump in the shower and crawl into bed. I'm not happy-not yet-but I'm definitely more at ease.
There's a yell we laughed about quite a bit...something about "first day: this is awkward, this is awkward". There was definitely some truth in that; but on the whole, I think the first day went pretty well. Maybe this will be fun, I think, about to fall asleep.
Little did I know. But, thus ended day 1 of fish camp. Stay tuned for more adventures.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Move-In Day Adventures...Part Two
Yes, I already moved in. No, there should not be a part two.
Nothing's ever easy, is it?
I need to post on the actual fish camp information tomorrow, but tonight, I shall say this: I am dead tired, frustrated, and ready to drop. Fish camp was amazing, though. I posted that earlier to say as much, until all this annoying crap happened.
I'm posting tonight because I feel it is necessary to tell the days adventures. AFTER I got back from fish camp (and waiting at Reed Arena for an hour, which you will hear about in full detail later) my parents picked me up to go get food--I ate basically the same thing for four days, so I was feeling pretty sick, and I hadn't eaten much that day either, so that didn't end well. Actually all told I think I lost about 5 pounds at fish camp. My parents, being the amazing people they are, took me to drop my stuff off in my dorm. We made the hike up (those stairs could really kill me, I swear) and sat down on the bed.
I'm looking around, and I think, oh, maybe I don't have a roommate, because no one has moved in. That's kinda cool. Plenty of room, at least until they put someone in.
Then I see a note on the floor, next to the bathroom door. I pick it up. It's from my suitemate, just saying hi, asking who I am and to introduce myself, etc. It's all fine and nice, and horribly, horribly wrong.
My suitemate's name is Christopher.
No, you did not read wrong. And no, no poor girl's parents were cruel enough to name her a man's name so she could take care of herself a la "A Boy Named Sue". I have put into a suite with a guy.
In some ways, in some circumstances, this would not be a problem. But suitemates share a bathroom. That doesn't lock from the inside. Obviously, this is not going to be a good thing.
I'm about hysterical at this point from exhaustion, hunger, frustration, etc. Thank you my lovely parents, who took me to get a smoothie first and real food once I stopped retching at any mention of something I had to chew.
Thus, my afternoon coming back from the exhaustion that was fish camp consisted of my (again, amazing) parents trying to find someone who could fix this, because obviously I didn't have any clue how to, and then my (again, amazing) parents and I moving everything I'd unpacked and trucking it to my new room in the neighboring building. Fun times, right?
The really awful thing was that I'd already thrown away my boxes, my bags, everything. We ended up trekking back and forth with books, bedding, etc. in hand.
My poor roommate's been a dear, even though I showed up at the door with garbage bags in my hands and a slightly maniacal gleam in my eye. She's been real chill for someone who's had a random person thrust into their life without warning. I think we'll get along pretty well, at least.
So, there's move-in adventures part two. I'm going to seriously hope there isn't a part three.
Signing off, this is Kat, newly moved into her dorm room and desperately needing a rest.
Nothing's ever easy, is it?
I need to post on the actual fish camp information tomorrow, but tonight, I shall say this: I am dead tired, frustrated, and ready to drop. Fish camp was amazing, though. I posted that earlier to say as much, until all this annoying crap happened.
I'm posting tonight because I feel it is necessary to tell the days adventures. AFTER I got back from fish camp (and waiting at Reed Arena for an hour, which you will hear about in full detail later) my parents picked me up to go get food--I ate basically the same thing for four days, so I was feeling pretty sick, and I hadn't eaten much that day either, so that didn't end well. Actually all told I think I lost about 5 pounds at fish camp. My parents, being the amazing people they are, took me to drop my stuff off in my dorm. We made the hike up (those stairs could really kill me, I swear) and sat down on the bed.
I'm looking around, and I think, oh, maybe I don't have a roommate, because no one has moved in. That's kinda cool. Plenty of room, at least until they put someone in.
Then I see a note on the floor, next to the bathroom door. I pick it up. It's from my suitemate, just saying hi, asking who I am and to introduce myself, etc. It's all fine and nice, and horribly, horribly wrong.
My suitemate's name is Christopher.
No, you did not read wrong. And no, no poor girl's parents were cruel enough to name her a man's name so she could take care of herself a la "A Boy Named Sue". I have put into a suite with a guy.
In some ways, in some circumstances, this would not be a problem. But suitemates share a bathroom. That doesn't lock from the inside. Obviously, this is not going to be a good thing.
I'm about hysterical at this point from exhaustion, hunger, frustration, etc. Thank you my lovely parents, who took me to get a smoothie first and real food once I stopped retching at any mention of something I had to chew.
Thus, my afternoon coming back from the exhaustion that was fish camp consisted of my (again, amazing) parents trying to find someone who could fix this, because obviously I didn't have any clue how to, and then my (again, amazing) parents and I moving everything I'd unpacked and trucking it to my new room in the neighboring building. Fun times, right?
The really awful thing was that I'd already thrown away my boxes, my bags, everything. We ended up trekking back and forth with books, bedding, etc. in hand.
My poor roommate's been a dear, even though I showed up at the door with garbage bags in my hands and a slightly maniacal gleam in my eye. She's been real chill for someone who's had a random person thrust into their life without warning. I think we'll get along pretty well, at least.
So, there's move-in adventures part two. I'm going to seriously hope there isn't a part three.
Signing off, this is Kat, newly moved into her dorm room and desperately needing a rest.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Fish Camp (Preview)
Ok, so, it's been a horridly exhausting day and I have tons to say...but it's going to have to wait until tomorrow. Before I go, though, I just want to let anyone who cares know: Fish Camp was AMAZING. Like, freaking mind-blowing. Speaking of...
She-hane, there's no question
Blow your mind just like Inception!
Such a great time. I'll sum it up in a few words, though, just for now...
Yell practice, a rumour fairy, skits, a shaving cream fight, centipedes, cafeteria food, mixers, Foosball, Dirty Dancing (the Patrick Swayze kind), videos, a rave, ice pops, way too much sweat, emotional highs and lows, and some of the best people I've ever met.
Oh, and one little thing. I want to go to A&M now.
Life is good.
She-hane, there's no question
Blow your mind just like Inception!
Such a great time. I'll sum it up in a few words, though, just for now...
Yell practice, a rumour fairy, skits, a shaving cream fight, centipedes, cafeteria food, mixers, Foosball, Dirty Dancing (the Patrick Swayze kind), videos, a rave, ice pops, way too much sweat, emotional highs and lows, and some of the best people I've ever met.
Oh, and one little thing. I want to go to A&M now.
Life is good.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Move-in Day Adventures
So...I've spent today moving in. I go to fish camp early tomorrow, have to be there at 8. So even though the adventure is only now really beginning, I won't be able to write about it until Tuesday at the earliest. I'll do my best to remember.
Anyway, because I'm in Session G I got to move in early. My roommate isn't here yet, if I have one. It was weird, actually...housing had already sent me a bunch of emails to let me know my room number and everything, right? So I go to check in, and this girl hands me the keys to a room at the very top of one of the FHK buildings (ambiguity used for safety, of course!). Definitely not what I had been told. It was ok, though--my brother came down to get me moved and brought two surprises, a mini-fridge and a huge tv. I love him so much, he's so excited for me, he keeps telling me I'll love it...I'm definitely trying. It wasn't easy today, though, what with trudging up four flights of stairs over and over again.
I don't have much else to say, honestly. I have to go and pick up some things for fish camp tonight...the basics and more. I'm not at all ready. I'm actually kind of freaking out...really not ready for this, and I have no idea what to expect. Neither my brother nor my dad went to fish camp. I'm thinking it will be pretty boring, but I hate the idea of meeting new people...it's like 600 people there at one time, which is as big as my freaking school class was. I don't make friends all that easily...I'm a fairly friendly person, I think, but large groups of people I don't know stress me out like no other. I'll probably just avoid the majority of people and get in and out as quickly as I can. Bus leaves at 8, too. Way too freaking early, not happy about that.
Anyway. That's all I have time for, gotta go pick up shampoo and such. Will talk Tuesday, if I can. If I survive.
Anyway, because I'm in Session G I got to move in early. My roommate isn't here yet, if I have one. It was weird, actually...housing had already sent me a bunch of emails to let me know my room number and everything, right? So I go to check in, and this girl hands me the keys to a room at the very top of one of the FHK buildings (ambiguity used for safety, of course!). Definitely not what I had been told. It was ok, though--my brother came down to get me moved and brought two surprises, a mini-fridge and a huge tv. I love him so much, he's so excited for me, he keeps telling me I'll love it...I'm definitely trying. It wasn't easy today, though, what with trudging up four flights of stairs over and over again.
I don't have much else to say, honestly. I have to go and pick up some things for fish camp tonight...the basics and more. I'm not at all ready. I'm actually kind of freaking out...really not ready for this, and I have no idea what to expect. Neither my brother nor my dad went to fish camp. I'm thinking it will be pretty boring, but I hate the idea of meeting new people...it's like 600 people there at one time, which is as big as my freaking school class was. I don't make friends all that easily...I'm a fairly friendly person, I think, but large groups of people I don't know stress me out like no other. I'll probably just avoid the majority of people and get in and out as quickly as I can. Bus leaves at 8, too. Way too freaking early, not happy about that.
Anyway. That's all I have time for, gotta go pick up shampoo and such. Will talk Tuesday, if I can. If I survive.
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