And it pleases me to have you here for just a little while

I will write about my trip (which was AMAZING) once I get some pictures off my camera. In the meantime, I want to talk about something else.

I spent four summers in the Adirondacks at a place called Camp Regis Applejack, or CRAJ for short. My thirteenth through sixteenth birthdays were spent there being incredibly awkward and LOVING every second of it.

Behold the awkward

At the end of every summer I sobbed. Sobbed uncontrollably as we loaded into the busses and I returned home hating my friends because they could no longer understand a word I said. "MOCHEEZMO" meant nothing to them, as it means nothing to most of you. THEY didn't know the entire score of RENT, nor were they able to do duets of "Light My Candle" with me. They didn't understand any of my inside jokes or the wonder that is Donnelly's Ice Cream.* So I did what we all did, and I hiked the shit out of my parent's phone bill.

Oh my GOD. We would spend hooooooooours on the phone. Filling each other in on gossip we had heard on our last four hour phone call to another state, or reminicing, or just speaking in what was essentially our own language. We wrote letters, we mailed packages, we visited each other...we were never out of touch for more than a couple of weeks.

And we returned to camp after our countdowns had reached zero (A lot of us had countdowns. Mine were kept in the margins of my notebook and on my left hand.) We would double check the numbers via AIM

"54 Days!"
"No 53!"
"Are you sure?"
"YES. I just double checked, go count."
"Okay. Hold on."

We hugged each other, we sussed out our new counselors, we checked how the boys were growing and checked out the new ones. We decided whether or not to pretend to be vegetarian based on the food choices it allowed us. And we made new friends. All within the first twelve hours back.

And I think it's the same for most people who went to camp, but because I never went to any other camp I refuse to actually believe this. There's no way anyone else on this planet could feel a draw to a particular place as strongly as we did. It's just not possible.

I write all of this because last weekend there was a camp reunion. AT THE CAMP. And I missed it. There were two main reasons for this:

1) I got back from France on Friday night. It was highly unlikely I would make it to the camp by Saturday morning.

2) It was expensive! The camp held the reunion to raise money for a camp scholarship, and I simply did not have the $225 to spare.

So I didn't go.

When I realized I wasn't going to make it, I was bummed. I would have loved to go, but a lot of people from my cabin weren't going either and while I was upset, I didn't think it was the end of the world.

Until today.

When the pictures started going up on Facebook.

I shit you not, I almost started crying at the office. Most of the people at the reunion were people I vaguely remember or didn't know very well - a male Apprentice Counselor from my first year there I never spoke to; a guy I had a crush on when I was 13, whose girlfriend I accidentally hit in the back with a door; the counselor from my second year who had to deal with the cabin of insane people I happened to be a part of. Only one person there was a good friend of mine, from my cabin, and I didn't care. I saw the pictures and wished so badly that I had gone.

Another friend of mine had the same feeling:

Morgan: gahhh wah i wish we had gone to craj

12:15 PM me: DUDE.

I KNOW

I'm really upset :(

12:17 PM Morgan: me too man

me: :(

They better do it again next year. I will be there with bells on. And some friends.


*Okay, if you happen to be driving in the Adirondacks for any reason, you NEED to check this place out. Seriously. It's amazing. Donnelly's Ice Cream. Write it down.

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Please Don't Make Fun Of Me

Readers, I have a horrible confession to make:

My new favorite show is America's Got Talent.

I never really got into American Idol. I liked watching the auditions, because you got gems like Mary Roach:



But I found that I didn't care when people did well. I was really only in it for the fail. And it feels bad to find pleasure in watching people fail. And the thing about AI is that I feel like they ALWAYS set you up for the fail. But on America's Got Talent, oh boy, you find things like this:



Who I WANT to do well. And she made me cry. And I realize that she's riding Susan Boyle's coattails, but I don't give a shit. I want to hug her.

I also want to hug this kid:



AND Grandma Lee:

Who, while using recycled jokes, makes me giggle.

The fail is still there, but the winners kill me.

I'm in love. Please don't make fun of me :(

Okay, okay, also these guys. I wish you could hear the judges reactions. Check out the postal workers:



Holy balls. <3

Seriously, go to Hulu and watch. I LOVE IT.

:(
UPDATE: Mom, This is for you:

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A Public Service Announcement

Have you ever seen that series of numbers clicking away above Union Square? People always seem so confused by it. Is it the national debt? A doomsday countdown? A secret??

It's not any of those things.

People? It's an effing clock.

From left to right it gives the time: 17:13 and 35 seconds. AKA 35 seconds past 5:13pm.

"But what about the rest of the numbers??" You ask.

From right to left it is counting down the rest of the day. At 5:13 and 35 seconds there are 6 hours, 46 minutes, and 24 seconds left until midnight.

Are we clear?

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Things Your Mother Shouldn't Read

I started a new blog this morning - Things My Mother Shouldn't Read - and I need submissions.
The idea came to me last night when I realized that I don't post certain things on this blog because I know that my mother, grandmother, and various other family members read this. Knowing full well that I wasn't the only person in this situation, I decided to create a place to house anonymous submissions of the things we want to write about, but are too embarrassed to post.

Feel free to send stuff to thingsmymothershouldntread (at) gmail dot com. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves

I may need more people to talk to

Because I am INSANE, I will sometimes have imaginary conversations with strangers in the street. Well, okay, I'm not THAT insane - but I will imagine comebacks to things people might say to me one day. That's probably not helping my argument. ANYWAY - the reason I'm thinking about this is because the comebacks I imagine myself saying are things I would NEVER EVER say in real life. For example, I just imagined myself saying, "And you shouldn't talk to strangers, you old COOT!"

Coot is word I have never used and cannot imagine myself ever using. Ever. In any situation. I've only typed it twice and already it's doing that thing where it no longer looks like a word.

I think everyone does this once in a while. Especially in New York where people talk to strangers all the time. It just makes sense to have a snappy comment handy in case whoever you're suuuuuure is going to talk to you actually says what you just know they're going to say. Right? Right.

-----------------------

In the last few months I have determined that I look like a raging bitch when I am walking by myself. My coworkers were complaining about one of the banks we have to go to because, according to them, they would get stopped every time they walked in by someone trying to get them to open an account. "Really?" I asked, "It's never happened to me. I just walk straight through and don't look at anyone." I think eye contact might be the kicker. I will make it with random strangers on the street or on the subway, but never with someone who wants to sell me anything.

I spent my lunch break in Union Square which is completely overpopulated with canvassers who want you to save the children, or the rain forest, or perhaps the orphaned ducklings of Connecticut. I have no idea what they want because they never stop me. They will jump in front of any other person within the vicinity and leave me alone. It's lovely.

The people I have to work on are the ones trying to get me to buy discounted salon packages. Do I really look that bad? ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!

Hey Everybody,
Please go visit my mom over at Wendy From Encore and wish her a HAPPY BIRTHDAY! She's about a million now. Juuuust kidding.

YAAAAAAAY!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOMMY! ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves

Intermission

I didn't make this, I just think it's funny


more music charts ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves

Spam is very serious business

I am kind of obsessed with Spam. I used to have a Spam t-shirt. My nickname was Spam Lady for a couple of years when I was younger. I am super disgusted/intrigued by Spam recipes. So it was only fitting that I got the Spam card during Apples to Apples.
Hey, and you can almost see my new glasses! (They are really really awesome.)

More later, I'm a busy bee.

By the way, have you ever played Apples to Apples? It might be the best game ever. Go buy it.

Now. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves

It was bound to happen soon enough

Remember little Adolf Hitler Campbell? He and his sisters, JoyceLynn Aryan Nation Campbell and Honszlynn Hinler Jeannie Campbell, were (finally) taken away from their parents last night. Apparently there had been no reports of child abuse, but isn't the name Adolf Hitler enough? Not to mention being raised to be completely and totally racist.

That sounds like abuse to me.

You can read the full story here.

In other news - I finally saw Twilight and Bride Wars on Sunday. My friend V and I were feeling a touch under the weather and decided to do a sneaky double feature in Union Square. Something I had not done since I was about twelve. I'd forgotten how EASY it is.

Bride Wars was completely and totally terrible, yet managed to make me cry. Because I am a complete and total baby and everything makes me cry. When I was six I had to be physically removed from a movie theatre during BINGO because I was sobbing so hysterically. Don't remember Bingo? Nobody does. Here's the summary (thanks IMDB) :

When Bingo, a runaway circus dog who leaves the big top, saves the life of Chuckie, a young boy who is having trouble fitting in with his pals. The two quickly become best friends-skateboarding, playing pinball, and doing math homework together. But Chuckie's parents discover the stowaway pooch, and make no bones about the fact that Bingo will not accompany them on their cross-country move. What follows next is a heart warming 1000 mile adventure of puppy love and loyalty as Bingo and Chuckie encounter nutty characters and hilarious situations in their quest to be reunited. Dog catchers, kidnappers, hospitals and even prison cant keep the two misfits apart!

Uh huh. Physically removed. Because I was HYPERVENTILATING.

As a teenager I had to stop watching Ice Age on a plane because I was crying so much that my seatmate noticed.

When I watch E.T. I start crying the second the first bicycle leaves the ground and I don't stop until the end of the film. I'm terrible.

Anywho, Bride Wars sucked. Don't waste your money.

Twilight? Also sucked. If you haven't read the book the movie will make absolutely no sense to you. V was confused. Hell, half the time I was confused. It was completely terrible. But you know what I'm doing now? Rereading Twilight! Why? Because Stephanie Meyer has managed to write crack.

So you know what?

Fuck you Stephanie Meyer! Give me my life back! ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves

How to cheer a nerd up:

Eddie Izzard + Legos = awesome.

I don't care if they are a million years old:





Regarding the second one, if we ever hang out you will definitely hear me say, "I can kill you with a thought!"

Love. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves

What in the world is going on?

No, seriously. This week the following stories have popped up in the news:

1) There is a Flat-Earthers Society. No, really. From Fox News:

"People are definitely prejudiced against flat-Earthers," Tennessee-based computer scientist and society member John Davis tells the BBC. "Many use the term 'flat-Earther' as a term of abuse, and with connotations that imply blind faith, ignorance or even anti-intellectualism."

These people think that the moon landing was faked, as well as the images sent back to us. (Well, naturally. You can't take pictures from the moon if you haven't actually BEEN to the moon, can you?) They also believe that Antarctica forms an ice circle around the entire circumference of the Earth Disk, keeping the atmosphere in or something. That just doesn't seem right to me. But then again, I'm a Round-Earther or "RE'er" for short. Seriously, check out their site. It's fascinating.

2) The Chupacabra has been found! Maybe. A cop claims he saw something that definitely wasn't a dog while on a "routine fence inspection drive" (whatever that is).



I don't know. It looks kind of like a dog to me. It also reminds me of this thing:

With a longer snout. Right?

3) Apparently Bigfoot has been found.
That's him. Dead. Chilling in a freezer. There's a press conference in California at noon today with DNA evidence. All together now - oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh. And there's more of them! Read the rest of the article here.

I always thought bigfoot looked like this:

(That's a cat I had, years ago, named Bigfoot. Check out the thumbs!)

Thanks to Geekologie for the tips.
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Wednesdays with teh Internet. (It's like Tuesday's With Morrie, only way nerdier)

On most Wednesday's I meet up with the Internet for Happy Hour (I will explain that in a moment), and things are always A-OK if I only go to happy hour. It's when I decide to go somewhere after happy hour that the trouble starts. So last night playing pool after happy hour seemed like a good idea...and so did staying up until 2:30 in the morning. Neither of these things were good ideas. Oops.

So now I am quite happily munching on a bacon and peanut butter sandwich on toasted rye bread, while sipping iced peach Snapple (I just wrote "snapped." Hmmm....), a trick the Tigerlily taught me many moons ago for those days when you're feeling not so fresh.

So, the Internet. When I was sixteen or seventeen I started posting on a messageboard called Makeoutclub.com, because I read about it in Spin Magazine on my flight home from London. Within a few months I was meeting people off the board. We would do things like weekly bubble tea, and dinners, and lots and lots of parties. People would fly all over the country to meet the people they spent all day talking to. Eventually there were weekends away and planned vacations. People moved in together, I ended up dating someone on and off for three years because of the Internet. And now, after all these years, we're just all friends. We've traded one messageboard for another here and there, but we're still posting, hanging out and nerding it up.

So yeah...I'm a geek. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves

Goddammit, Tigerlily

The Tigerlily lent me a book last night. And this book may or may not be a teen novel about first loves and vampires. And it may or may not be horribly written. And I may or may not have finished it. And I may or may not be COMPLETELY OBSESSED with the series now.

Twilight. Am obsessed. Completely. What the fuck?

And there's a movie coming out! AND...and...well...I think the Tigerlily puts it nicely. (Click on the word "nicely")

SQUEEEEEEEEEAL.

And it probably helps that there is a MOVIE coming out and in the movie the male lead is played by Cedric Diggory.

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves

An update of sorts

I do want to update. I'm sitting at the computer thinking "What the hell am I going to write?" And only one thing has occurred to me, so here it is:

I recently discovered that two of my uncles and one of my aunts are on Facebook. I am not friends with them, and neither are their children. My aunt has one friend and the uncles each have a handful including Seth. (Which I think is funny because, awww, Seth likes my family and vice-versa! Yay!) I don't think I am going to become Facebook friends with them because there are far too many pictures of me on there doing, um, let's say "unladylike" things. (These things include but are not limited to: playing a drinking game in my bra, my first experience with a beer bong, grabbing my own boobs, and drunkenly kissing two of my best friends. Did I mention being drunk? Because...yeah.) Needless to say, these are not things my uncles and/or aunt need to see.

But the real question for me is: Why are they on there in the first place? We are talking people in their 40s and 50s here. Are they networking? Trying to keep up with youth culture? Spying on their children? Bored? I am honestly curious. I do not understand. Hell, I don't even understand why I'm on Facebook half the time. (Actually, that isn't true. I am on Facebook so I can find people I went to elementary school with and say things like, "I knew she would be a lesbian!" or "YOU GOT SO FAT. HA HA HA!" Because I'm a bitch like that.)

So can anyone explain to me why they are there? Does anyone else have older family members on Facebook? Is up down and left right? I need answers! ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves

OH NO!

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On being afraid of a thirteen year old girl

If for some reason you didn't know: I have a large, weird family.
I'm not very close with my mother's side of the family, because she was an only child and no one (except for her first cousin who lives with her and drives her nuts) lives near New York. But my father was one of five. And everyone had children. So I have (bum bum bum baaaaaaaah....) ten first cousins. Not to mention the fact that everyone is cousin, whether they are second or fourth or seventy-seventh. Freakishly huge family. Seriously.

ANYWAY...

I am the oldest of my generation (all eleven of us)*. By almost exactly six years. My parents had me and then no one else got around to having children for another six years. After those six years, people kept popping out boys, so it was not until July 14th 1994 that I finally got a girl cousin. I am going to see this girl cousin for the first time since she was eleven in a few weeks and I am scared. Absolutely fucking terrified. And it is for quite possibly the stupidest reason in the world: My itty bitty baby girl cousin is now taller than I am.

I have finally gotten used to the boys being taller than me, I have even accepted the fact that they are teenagers. (When they aren't being dicks about it.) But baby girl cousin? Who was a child approximately ten minutes ago? Hold up. No no no no no. I think it plays on the fears I mentioned in this post, namely that HOLY SHIT I'M GETTING OLD. And also - Gah! I was the biggest and the strongest for so many years. I am used to being smaller than everyone, but not everyone that I spent so much time being bigger than! Blah.

My aunt apparently shares (or at least understands) my fear about these people getting taller. A couple of months ago she wrote me this in an e-mail (about her three children):

Bill** is taller than me, by at least 2", which has the strange affect of changing our relationship. If he says no to me about something I simply comply because otherwise he could hurt me. Quite simple, law of the land and all. Brawn trumps brain. Tots** too is springing forth, disturbingly. Emerald** remains shorter than you.

My grandmother, on the other hand, continues her unwavering sunny outlook on the subject:

You'll just have to remember that you have age, wisdom, and experience on your
side, and all your younger cousins look up to you mentally, even if they are looking down physically..

I suppose it's a pretty good way of looking at things.

But seriously? I really ENJOYED being the biggest!

*On my branch of the family. My grandmother was one of four and all of THEM had children, which is where I get second cousins.
**names have been changed. (Well DUH. No one names a kid Tots)

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I ARE PRETTY

The Ski Suit in all of it's glory.

You're welcome. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves

Buffkaboo

When I was in the 4th grade I wrote a story called "Buffkaboo the Magic One". I do not remember what this story was about, but I remember that I wrote it and that I was pretty damn proud of it at the time. A couple of days ago I got an e-mail from my grandmother:

Dear Sarah,

I was rummaging through some old files, searching for something for
Paddy, when I came across a remarkable piece of literature: a short
story written by you in 4th grade (dated March 23, 1994) titled
"Buffkaboo, The Magic One." It is hilarious, and I think it should be
kept safely in your possession, perhaps waiting for inclusion in your
first volume of Collected Works.

So my grandmother is sending me my fourth grade masterpiece. I completely convinced myself that when I got home today it would be in my mail box. And then it wasn't. And I was sad, because my original plan was to post the story in its entirety in this entry, instead of just being all, "woo, yeah! Fourth grade me RULED!"

Basically, sometime in the next few days I will be posting Buffkaboo and it will be wonderful.

Okay? Okay! ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves

I dress like a small child and other things

So I know I really need to blog about a lot of things including Toy Fair and Spice Girls. Both of those will have to wait for another day, but I will tell you the following things:

a) Spice Girls was AMAZING. I CRIED. It was one of the most fun nights of my life. I fucking cried. It was spectacular. And Shiny! SO SHINY. Gaaaaaaaaah

b) I have still not found my flat iron. Sadface!

c) I had this conversation with my boss today:

Him: Why are you dressed like a grownup today?

Me: I'm not really.

Him: Well, you're wearing pants!

Apparently pants now qualify only as adult wear. Good to know. I think he's still making fun of me for the time I accidentally forgot to wear pants to the office. Yes, you read that right, I once spent an entire day at the office without pants. Because I am dumb.

About a year and a half ago I bought this little black dress. It was adorable! It had buttons and was going to look really good over a pair of colored tights. I just knew it. So Monday rolled around and I decided I was going to wear my new dress. I put it on over some cable knit tights and went on my merry way. Only after I got to the office did I realize that my new "dress" was actually a shirt. A shirt that did not quite cover my bottom. On that day I went into my boss's office and we had this conversation:

Him: Why aren't you wearing pants?

Me: I...what?

Him: That isn't a dress.

Me: It is! I bought it this weekend and...::looking down:: fuck. It's a shirt.


Yeah...am dumb.

Sorry for the lack of updating. I have been very very busy.

I would like to give a late birthday shout out to Seth, because yesterday was his birthday and he is awesome. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves

Non-n3rdz be dumb, yo.

Yesterday outside of school I heard a girl say this:

"Oh my GOD, last night we were laughing so hard at the EL OH EL Cats!!!"

Bitch, it's LOLCATS. One word. Get it right or pay the price.



Fuckin' A.
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