Friday, July 4, 2008


Hey, how ya'll doing? I hope your summer's been fun and relaxing. Oh, and Happy Independence Day. So I'm here just for gimmel Tammuz weekend, and this will probably be the only time I'll be using the computer. Obviously I can't tell you everything that's been going on (it's all crazy! (inside joke (sorta (I miss using the quadruple parentheses)))), but I can give you the rundown:

Wow, so I'm loving my summer so far. I'm a counselor at a gan izzy not so far from here, and it's a pretty well-known establishment. We are on a farm. Seriously. Like- horses. And goats. Yeah, I know. But it's a blast, and most of my friends are with me as counselors. We live in a non-lubavitch (to put it verrrrrry nicely) neighborhood, and I wake up at 6 am to start my day. I don't get back home until about 8:30 at night, after bikkur bayis. It's a totally exhausting day. Like seriously exhausting. But a blast. At bikkur bayis, we have an easy method for deciding which campers to go to first. First we go to the ones with the biggest houses. Yes, it's that simple, and yes, we're that shallow. But we go to most of our campers' houses, so it doesn't matter where we start from. After the biggest houses, we next look for campers with the Wii.
It is an ongoing joke among the staff, that I have never been able to nail a Wii. I've been to about six or seven houses already, and either they don't have the wii, or it's been broken!!! I have some sort of Nintendo curse, I guess...

My bunk are 8-year-olds. I have the smallest number of campers for a bunk. Just the six kids. Some are cute. Some are cool (this one kid who is really good at sports has long hair!!! Like a rocker. Or like Hanson. I think he's doing it for Wigs for Kids, but I'm not sure). Some are monsters. I call this one kid Cookie Monster, because I found out after fighting with him over every single lunch, that the only thing he eats are cookies. I spoke with his mother after he wouldn't even eat a piece of bread for lunch, and she was like: yeah, we have that problem at home. He doesn't eat lunch." But he adores me. He always wants to be my buddy on trips, and sit next to me on the bus. If I had all the cookies in the world, I'd give 'em to him.

The camp is almost all outdoors (the farm) so of course every day I come back totally burnt, no matter how much sunscreen I put on.

At the house we live at, we all have jobs to keep the house somewhat clean. Since I like challenges, I chose Garbage. I'm telling you now, I hope by the end of the summer I'll finally be able to tie a full garbage bag normally.

We have a weekly camp journal that we put out (like every camp), and I was picked to write the weekly review bit. I didn't want to. I would rather write the funny one page blabs about nothing, or funny interviews with the staff... Because to recap the whole week in two pages, while being expected to be funny is kind of hard. But I like challenges, (well, actually, only those that I think I'll be able to do...) and I took the job. I write the review for the week from the perspective of a lonely, disgruntled tetherball named Tethermus, who refuses to be called a tetherball, but rather a Splendid Sphere of Fun. And I put some quadruple parentheses in, also. The criticisms I got were that it was way too long. And I can't put in anything negative. At all.

There are so many little stories I could tell you about. If I had internet access, trust me, cyberspace would be inundated with hundreds of more posts from me. But here's a quick little story for ya':
I got onto a bus to go to a kid's house for bikkur bayis, and I was looking for a seat to sit, and I heard a kid crying uncontrollably. Being a good counselor and a caring soul, I sought out the source, and sat down next to this little boy who was just bawling. He was upset because he didn't win a prize at a funplex type of place we went to, and he really really really really wanted to win it. I started trying to cheer him up. Finally he stopped crying, and we became good friends. I convinced him that he could go back to the funplex place for his birthday, which is April 11th. Since he's only six or seven, he believed me that April was coming up soon, and wasn't so far away. Anyway, later that day, I was at a picnic for a Jewish cubscout pack that a kid in camp was in, and we were invited to after bikkur bayis. This little boy was also there, and he was having a blast playing Frisbee with me (can anyone teach me how to throw it? I'm not very good), and then we sat together watching some kids play baseball. He turned me, smiling, and exclaimed, "This is the best day of my life!!!" Now, he is only six. So it very well could have been the best day so far. But it was sooo funny because you normally don't hear a seven year old say such a statement about his life, and also because he was bawling so hard just hours earlier, and then it was the worst day of his life. Okay, now that I'm typing, it doesn't sound so funny. But trust me, it was. You had to be there.

Oh, yeah, one more thing. Out of many. Bochurim are very good at declining offers of food. When we go to people's houses, I'm an expert at politely declining anything besides for like water. So at bikkur bayis, since we stay to like 7 or 7:30, they always offer us food. "Naah, we're all having dinner later tonight" I always tell them. But sometimes they just buy food for us, anyway. So this past week, I had pizza every single night!!!! It became a big joke. In one city, they had kosher pizza, and kosher chinese. The families only offer us pizza, because they think that's what we like. They have no idea that we're sick of it. I can't exactly say, "No, no thank you. Really. Please don't trouble yourself- Oh, you insist on getting us food....Pizza? Well, actually, once you're offering pizza, I'd rather have chinese...." It doesn't really go. Oh well. Next week, I better have a family that either doesn't offer any dinner, or gets us chinese, because I don't think I could last another week of just pizza.

Anyway, have a good shabbos. Go to a farbrengen this weekend sometime. Shoot some fireworks. And watch out for my next post. You never know when it might come next. (I don't either, so we're in the same boat).
And sorry for the long post.