Yesterday I got a package in the mail. My mom asked if I ordered something online. Sadly, I answered, no. It wasn’t a fun jewlery or a new MacBook. It was books. Many books. 8 large, bound, small-print books from Teach for America. Books with titles like Instructional Planning and Delivery; Diversity, Community and Achievement; Literacy Theory, and Classroom Management and Culture. Basically, it’s four years worth of college educational instruction packed into 8 books of information for me to read in the next four months. 

Thankfully, they break it down into 8 easily stomached lessons to get through in the next few weeks. It’s not that overwhelming time wise, but it is definitely overwhelming emotion wise. 

The first reading is about a successful TFA corps members and her struggles and triumphs over four years of teaching in Houston, TX. It is already SO hard to imagine myself doing half the things or having half the successes that she has. In fact, I had a dream slash nightmare about it last night, where I was kicking ass on my first day of school only to have half of my 50 (yes 50! My classroom was for some reason more akin to a college lecture hall, except it was filled with judging 14 year-olds) students walk out of the room in anger over something I’d said, all while I was being observed by the school’s principal and my program director from TFA. I woke up feeling like a failure, reminding myself that it was a dream and I hadn’t failed at anything yet. 

I keep replaying the words one of the TFA staffers told me on the phone the night I was accepted: “We don’t make mistakes. If we choose you to be a corps member, we have no doubt that you can do this. Just imagine that there are students out here waiting for you.” I just have to internalize that myself.

So, today I got a a rather interesting email. It went a little something like this:

“Dear Amanda,

I am pleased to extend you an offer to join the Teach For America 2009 corps! This offer to join Teach For America reflects both your outstanding accomplishments and your potential to move students to achieve. In order to secure your place in the 2009 corps, you must complete matriculation forms on the Applicant Center on or before Friday, December 5 at 5:00 p.m. ET.

Effecting dramatic, measurable gains in students’ academic achievement is an incredibly challenging pursuit given the obstacles facing students and teachers in our nation’s lowest income communities. You have demonstrated great potential to excel as a teacher despite these challenges and to ultimately assume great influence in our country. We now invite you to make this commitment and take our effort forward.

Congratulations again, and welcome to Teach For America.”

Of course, I immediatley logged on to see my regional placement, because that would be my deciding factor. And, in all ironies of ironies, it said this: 

“Congratulations! We are pleased to invite you to join the 2009 Teach For America corps and are excited to assign you to teach secondary English (grades 7-12) in Los Angeles.“

Yes. I’ve been assigned to go back to where my epiphany happened. A day after I had a hour long conversation with my mom about how I should just move to LA to try out the entertainment industry again. A day after I started making myself feel alright about just going there for the spring to see if I could make this film and tv thing work. I mean, I have a degree in it. Well, I will in a month and a half.  All of that happening in response to my growing suspicion that I bombed my TFA interview. Apparently not. 

I just got back from getting drinks with the 5 (out of 25!) people who were accepted from my school. It was really selective this year. That made me feel good. The other girls made me excited. They made me think I could do this. They made me think I’m probably going to do this. I mean…I feel weird saying no after the ridiculous application process. Maybe that’s their whole trick. God, I had decisions. I also hate not knowing what I’m doing with my life.   

Stay tuned for a possibly life changing decision by December 5th at the latest.

WordPress has informed me that this is my 100th post. I don’t know why this seems like a milestone, but it does. 100 posts. That’s kind of a lot, right? I thought so. 

In 100 posts, I’ve done a lot of complaining, a lot of observing, and a lot of ranting. I’ve posted photos, videos, and anecdotes. I’ve answered questions and asked questions. I’ve talked about cooking and traveling and family and friends. 

So what do I do for my 100th post? The 100th time I’ve come here to type out my feelings for all the internet to see….I don’t really know, because today was kind of boring. I went to tap class. I worked on my plays. I read at the library. I talked to my mom. I printed out my plays. Now I’m headed out to see my last free play ever at my place of work. After almost 15 free plays…and one musical. Since I won’t be working there much longer. After three years, I’ll be done. Crazy.

Maybe that’s what I should have written about for my 100th post. I guess I kind of did. Oh well. Who says the 100th has to be my best?

My day at work today went a little something like this:

- Get in twenty minutes early due to catching the early bus.

- Be told not a lot is going on. Go over schedule for the next two weeks.

- Log onto computer.

- Read email.

- Read blogs.

- Read Entertainment Weekly’s Popwatch Blog

- Read Gawker

- Read my newest obsession, 23/6

- Have a twenty minute phone conversation with my sister.

- Meet boss downstairs to take some boxes across town.

- Learn that there are two many boxes to fit in a cab.

- Realize have been doing nothing for two hours waiting to accomplish a task that is not accomplish-able.

- Told to go to the other theater to pick up other (small pre-postaged) boxes and take them to the post-office.

- Walk to other theater in obnoxious mist that makes umbrella users look stupid but that leaves you kind of wet without an umbrella.

- Stop at Starbucks to reward self for getting this far through this boring of a day.

- Walk out of Starbucks with Gingersnap Latte into POURING RAIN. Suddenly, miss obnoxious mist as jean bottoms become so soaked that pants start falling off.

- Get to other theater and learn that boxes are actually large and not pre-postaged.

- Walk with first large box through still pouring rain several blocks, trying to balance said box with one arm as the other arm is simultaneously trying to cover both body and large leather purse from said pouring rain with umbrella.

- Finally get to post office soaking wet, only to have post-office worker ask if box has liquids or hazardess materials in it. Not knowing, reply “I don’t..uh…think so.”

- Worry post office worker thinks box contains anthrax or other bioweapons.

- Smile awkwardly to ward off suspicion.

- Walk back to theater massaging throbbing arm that held up box single-handedly (or armedly?) for several blocks despite lacking anything resembling arm strength.

- Take second, awkwardly long and skinny, box from the theater and begin second journey to the post-office, fearing a second awkward encounter with suspicious workers.

- Finally get to post office a second time, even more soaking wet, pants seriously FALLING OFF, pull on door handle and almost fall backwards as it is locked.

- Realize in time it took to walk to theater and back, post office has closed.

- Curse loudly to self.

- Walk back to theater, now angrily balancing leather bag, awkward box, pink umbrella, and too big pants, wishing Starbucks had not been hastily thrown away in anger as Gingersnap Latte still had some cheering up powers left in it.

- Climb three flights of stairs with all baggage in tow to find office locked.

- Curse loudly enough to fear kids in education department class next door heard.

- Ask theater manager to open office.

- Get into office and immediately write angry blog post.

- (Presumably) Will wait around for another hour and a half before passing out pay checks and walking home.

Today, I am extremely happy I wasn’t offered that full-time job. Extremely happy. Because to quote Jim Halpert, “Right now, this is a job. If I advance any further, this would be my career, and if this were my career…I’d have to throw myself in front of a train.”

So, I didn’t get the job. My boss kind of non chalantly threw out the fact that they hired someone else while giving me my agenda for the day. I’m not upset about it. I just kind of expected more than, “Oh, did you heard we hired someone else?” I mean, it’s not like I’ve worked there for two years, or anything…oh, wait…

But, as I said, I’m not upset. In fact, today was excellent, as I got invited to have a phone interview for Teach for America! (Quick side note: I decided to apply for the first deadline, instead of the third, as I will now know if I am accepted in November as opposed to March, thus allowing me to bypass those pesky grad school applications if I accept a TFA position. Smart, right?) At this point, I’m feeling like I’d much rather move forward with the TFA thing, rather than working the same job I’ve been working for the past two years, just with slightly more responsibilities. Plus, now, I most likely get to chill in LA for a week when I get back from Australia, because HEY! I’ll have nothing else to do. Hello, future unemployment!

(Cut to January when upon arrival home from said week in LA, I’m crying about unemployment and boredom. I’ll be sure to link back to this post.)

Whatevs. Today, I’m feeling positive. I’m heading home tomorrow with my friend Lauren (ROAD TRIP!) to then head to NYC with my parents on Saturday to visit my sister and celebrate her birthday slash my parents’ anniversary, which just so happen to be one day apart. (Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad slash Happy [early] Birthday, Stephanie!)

Right now, I’m off to enjoy the second half of my wonderful TV night. (Yet another side note: The Office is officially back! That episode was comedic [and a little romantic] gold! Ryan coming back! Kelly fainting!A talking head from within a computer! “I don’t think I ever really processed 9/11.” Phyllis and Dwight! Poor Andy The rotting fruit! JIM AND PAM!!! Ok…I’m breathing again. Sadly, I doubt Grey’s will get me this excited, but you never know…)

I’ve learned in the past two weeks that I am bad at being busy and blogging. I’ve been so caught up in getting back into the swing of having an actual life in all senses: a social life, a school life, a work life. I can never say no to things, and thus, I have been running around from event to event, meeting to meeting, not stopping to look around enough to have anything to actually write about. 

The things that have been taking up the bulk of my time can be divided into four categories: classes, work, Bay State and friends. Let’s take them one by one, so as not to knock me over with the sheer amount of things I have to split my focus between. 

Classes: Have been good. Really good. I got into an Advanced playwriting class I applied to early in the summer as a back-up to my ever changing schedule. It’s taught by a guy who, among other writerly things, runs an organization to lobby for the arts in Massachusetts, a subject very near and dear to my heart. (In fact, when asked to talk in my acting class for 1 to 3 minutes about a subject I am passionate about, I spoke about the arts in education.) I think it will be nice to go back to a subject that was so important to me in high school. (Background side note: I was in a Performing Arts magnet program my last two years of high school, causing me to take playwriting for two years with my amazingly amazing drama teacher.)

Speaking of high school, I am also returning to an acting class for the first time since senior year in Acting for Writers and Directors. It’s so cool to look at acting from a different viewpoint, while still being the actor yourself in class. I think it’s going to really  help with my playwriting class. 

My last class is photography, which I am BEYOND excited about. (Stupid sidenote: I had to pick up prints today from Ritz Camera for work. While I waited, I, of course, had to ask if I could look at the D90 I knew they had to have just gotten in. I think I impressed the camera sales boys.) We went into the darkroom at the end of class, and I got all tingly. I can’t wait to get started on my first assignment, which is a very good thing during your last semester of college. Most people are just trying to push their ways to the end. 

Next up…WORK: Could be going better. For one thing, after interviewing for the infamous job and being told they wanted to make a quick decision, I have heard absolutely NOTHING. At this point, I’m going on the assumption that I didn’t get it, but is it too much to want to know for sure? I just feel like I need to start gearing myself up for the reality that I have to look for a job in five months and having this possibility of getting out of it hanging over my head is wildly unhelpful. Plus, they seem to want me to act like I have the position (i.e.: working more) without actually hiring me, which is wildly unfair to me. I’m not going to give up my life to work unless I’m being paid salary, thankyouverymuch. 

Which leads me to the reason for not wanting to work more, which is BAY STATE: the campus TV show I am Co-Executive Producing this semester. I’ve worked on the show, which, by the way, is America’s longest running college soap opera, since freshman year, and it has always been my goal to Executive Produce. Actually doing the job is kind of surreal. I’m sharing Executive Producer responsibilities with my friend Josh, who you may remember from my numerous summer outings to his apartment, who is SUPER serious about the show, and thus, likes to have conversations and meetings about it basically every day. This is great for the show and for the quality, which we are always trying to ramp up, but it is a little hard on my sanity when I am dealing with lots of other things. 

And lastly FRIENDS: who I am SO HAPPY to have back in my life after my summer of two friends. I’ve basically been out with people every night, whether singing “Oops I did it Again” with Jillian at Karaoke Tuesdays at our favorite bar (after some drunk hoes sang “See you Again” by our best friend Miley Cyrus  before we got a chance!) or playing Mario Kart (and sucking majorly) with Jenn, Lauren and Alex. It is just nice to have somewhere to go every night and to have people to call when I’m bored. I feel like I need to soak all this up now before I possibly move somewhere with no friends and work so much I never want to leave my apartment. Boo to the future. 

So that is where I’ve been. There are so many stories I wish I could tell in full, like traveling out to Porter Square with Jillian and Alex to visit Megan (one of my two summer friends) and her boyfriend Paul to see their new grown-up apartment and realizing that I could live there after graduation (for SO MUCH CHEAPER than staying around campus) and be pretty happy. Or about my work day from hell, which I only survived with constant texting (including riddles from Alex) and a Quiznos sub. Or about my new wish to live in Europe for a year due to a combination of reading and loving My Life in France by Julia Child (who I now want to be) and seeing and loving Vicky Christina Barcelona (does Woody Allen EVER disappoint?). 

Luckily, every time I write here, I remember why I like writing here. Hopefully, I’ll catch up on the blog world once I’ve caught up on my life a little bit more. I’ve been neglecting commenting, and I don’t like it. So, is anyone else having trouble getting back into the swing of things?

I have, for some reason, found it almost impossible to blog about the actual goings on in my life lately. I think I just wanted to soak up what could possibly be my last summer vacation ever (!!) without worrying blogging. (Not that I don’t enjoy writing about myself.) Now that I’m back in Boston once again, about to get into the groove of my last semester of college ever (!!!), I feel I should probably write about this past week, if only for my own memory (and to appease my dad who keeps asking about why I haven’t written about our trip yet.)

So two weeks ago (two weeks? I almost wrote one week, that is how much I’ve lost track of time and my life..) I got on the Plymouth Brockton Bus to Hyannis, MA (that’s in Cape Cod) to meet my parents. My mom attended a fitness conference to get certified to teach fitness classes, while my dad and I explored the town, rating each day on our cleverly devised Awesome Scale. We ate at a British Pub, various seafood joints, a Mediterranean restaurant, and drank wine with the other guests at the little Inn/Bed and Breakfast where we stayed. We took a 20 mile bike ride on the Rails to Trails bike trail, went to see Tropic Thunder, and wandered down to the beach with my mom’s dog, Sookie. We watched Michael Phelps win his 8th gold medal on the only TV in the Inn, located in the dining room in the main building (we were staying in the annex) and talked to the other guests at the Inn, who surprisingly, seemed to love their dogs as much as my mom loves hers, which I later learned stemmed from the fact that this Inn is the only place in town that allows dogs. It was really relaxing and nice to spend more time with my dad than I have, probably, since I left for college. Various pictures taken with my new 35mm camera (purchased for my photography class) can be found here.

Upon arriving back in Wilmington, I set out to get done the things I can’t (or can’t afford to) do in Boston. First up, getting a tetanus shot, as my school registration was blocked when mine expired. (Annoyingly enough, I was not notified of this when it happened and wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t gotten on to change gym classes. I would have just been denied entrance to my apartment when I arrived in Boston! Thanks, university! :/ ) This was sadly more difficult than it would have been for normal people, as I don’t have a doctor, since my parents moved while I was in college, and could not just pop in and out of the office. I, thus, had to go to a walk-in clinic, wait for two hours, be told that they didn’t, in fact, give tetanus shots to non-emergency cases (even though my mom had called and asked the day before and been assured that they DID give tetanus shots to people like me), beg them to give me one because PLEASE I HAVE NO WHERE ELSE TO GO, and then actually get my shot. Success! Kind of…

The next day, I headed to the NJ/Philadelphia area to hang out with some of my best friends from school, two of whom live very close to my parents and three of whom had come down to visit in a miracle of timing. We hung out on South Street and visited the Magic Gardens. I have to say, if you are ever in Philadelphia, GO TO THIS GARDEN. The name sounds crazy, but it really does seem magical. It’s an amazing feet of mosaic making. We had a little too much fun, spending hours taking photos in awkward and oddly serious poses, to the mild discomfort of those around us. (All with my friend Jenn’s new XSI. Me=jealous) After the Magic Garden, we wandered into a comic book store where Jenn, Lauren and I discovered this gem of a comic: It was part of some sort of series about tragic love “ripped from the pages of real life,” basically, romance novel comics. Every cover features at least one woman crying. This one was probably our favorite:

I haven’t laughed so hard in a while. We then went to eat at the deli I went to with my parents in July. I was almost as full as last time. After Philly, and after a midly frightening car ride where we sped a little too fast down curvy, hilly roads with my friend Mike riding in the trunk of the SUV, we got to Lauren’s house and decided to play “Men are From Mars, Woman are from Venus.” Again, I must urge every to play this game. I think it is supposed to stir up controversy between the sexes, but my friends are so awesome, we woud just answer the questions then all talk about how great of an answer everyone gave. We decided the five of us left would make an amazing group couple. Basically, thoughout the day, I realized how much I missed my friends over the summer, because it really was one of the best times I’d had in a while.

The rest of the week was a blur of shopping with my mom, getting my hair cut, vegging out, crying over the end of the Olympics (What will I do during the day now that I can’t flip back and forth between equestrian jumping and rhythmic gymnastics!?) and freaking out over my computer possibly dying. (No worries. The Genius’s at the Mac store fixed it up.)

Tuesday, I left with my dad for Boston. We, of course, spent lots of time discussing politics, as my dad is a mild conservative who likes to act like a staunch conservative to bug the crap out of me. (He made me listen to SEAN HANNITY for THREE HOURS [!!!!!] on the car ride back from Hyannis. If I had heard ONE MORE PERSON call up and say “Sean, you are a great American,” I was going to take my own life. My dad then laughed when I asked how he could listen to that crap, saying “I never listen to that. Are you kidding me?” Funny Dad, really funny…) When we got into Boston, we headed to my summer apartment, loaded up the rest of the my stuff, then headed out to dinner at my favorite restaurant, Picco in the South End, which stands for Pizza and Ice Cream, Co. How could that not be good?

Wednesday, I moved in, hung out with my uncle and cousins, said good-bye to my dad, then went out for my friend Jackie’s birthday with some friends from my sorority and Birthright. Again, it was nice to see everyone who I missed over the summer.

Thursday was intense apartment shopping day, at the end of which, I got to relax with Jenn and Josh while watching “High School Musical” (which Jenn had never seen!) and Obama’s speech: the ultimate awesome combination. (My favorite moment from the night may have been the text from my sister telling me she was drinking an Obamapolitan on the Baracks. Amazing. These are the reasons he should be president…)

Today, I’m back at work. I had my interview for the job. The actual interview went well, but there may be a sang with the whole me going to Australia for three weeks at one of the busiest times of the year thing, which obviously, is a non-negotiable situation. No job is worth me missing the chance to go to Australia with two of my best friends. I’m only young once, right? (MUCH more is coming on this topic, as it is getting SO CLOSE I CAN TASTE IT!) As I said before though, the interview went well enough, and the HR rep said she likes promoting from within, and that there are definitely ways to work around my schedule. As ever, I really have no preference for which was this goes. If I get it, it will be hard to do the job and classes and EVERYTHING, but it will ensure me having a job come January. If it don’t, I’m going to have an amazing last semester of college, and hopefully, I’ll find a job eventually. I guess fate will decide for me. I kind of prefer it that way.

And now that my hands are numb from typing, I feel like I can now continue posting at a regular pace (and legnth…) Up next, a meme sent to me from the lovely Melissa (my mom sent your brownies yesterday! Sadly, sans note, because I am the loser who forgot to write one before I left…), and details of my upcoming journey down under (aka to Australia…if that wasn’t obvious…ok, I’ll shut up now.)

It’s extremely hard to come up with blog ideas when all I do is work and sit around eating and watching the Olympics. Especially since I actively avoid talking about work, because, you know, the horror stories abound. I will make a small exception now, as something vaguely important could possibly be happening soon, and as I have nothing else to blog about, it seems like a good idea. 

Basically, I’ve been a work-study student at the same place for two years. From what I can tell, I do a pretty good job. In fact, my boss’s last day was today, and when I said good-bye to her (prepare from some self-congratulatory posting…) she said they were so lucky to have found me to work there and offered any help she could give me in the future, as she is moving to New York, somewhere I could possibly end up. Basically, I’ve been working as her assistant when I’m there, so we’ve gotten pretty close. And I’ve loved working there, hence my unhappiness at the possibility of my work-study being taken away (an issue which is not entirely resolved yet, but which my boss has told me not to worry about. She says they definitely want me around for the fall and will figure out a way to keep me there.)

Moving on, my boss’s biggest suggestion leaving the job was to create a full time assistant position for her position, as she shared an assistant with the rest of management, while using me when she could. The company took her advice and created a full-time assistant position. The job description is basically a slightly more in-depth description of MY job,  just full time. My boss encouraged me to apply. She even read my cover letter for me. So I applied. And I got an interview. For a full-time job…that would start next month. Um…ridiculous much? 

This is so good and so bad in a number of ways. First for the so good: if I got it, I would have a full time job! Paying a lot more money than I’m making now! And I could stay in Boston! At a job I already know how to do and actually enjoy! Hooray!

The so bad? I would have a full time job. And class (sure, I am only taking three classes, and they include acting and photography, but still, they are classes…with grades…) And Bay State, the campus TV show I work on. And my sorority, which to be honest, I would probably completely blow off if I got this job. What I’m saying is, I would be exhausted. All. The. Time. It would be a lot to handle, and I really don’t want to have a complete breakdown my last semester of college. 

The double bad countering the so bad, however, would be if they hired someone else, because, honestly? They say I would still work there, but there would be almost nothing for me to do. I’ve been filling this assistant type position all summer, and there are days when I’ve had one project and then done homework for three hours. To add a full time assistant to the mix would make the lowly work-study student obsolete. I guess it wouldn’t be so bad to have a job where I had little to do and still got paid, but with the added responsibility I’ve gained this summer, it would suck to give it up to someone completely new, while I’ve been there for two years. 

I’m trying not to think about any of this too much, as I have no control over what will ultimately happen, and really, if I got offered the job, I wouldn’t even think about not taking it, so why dwell on the negative now like I’m weighing the options? It’s pointless. I’ll take the job if I get it, and I’ll deal with it if I don’t. I really just wanted something to blog about…

I hate feeling that no matter what I do, I’m always falling behind. I hate feeling like no matter how hard I work, it’s never enough. Mostly, right now, I hate my school’s financial aid office.

Today, after finding out I got an A on a paper I thought was terrible and kicking ass at a final I didn’t know how to prepare for, I found out that my lovely institution of learning thought it would be a good idea to deny my appeal for work-study, which they recently took off of my financial aid package. This, after I was told again and again that almost no one is denied an appeal if you have a good reason. Apparently working the same job for two years and only needing one more semester’s worth of funds isn’t a good enough reason. 

So tomorrow, I have to go in and tell my boss, on her second to last day of work, in the midst of all the craziness going on around her and the department, that the schedule I sent her last week of when I could work in the fall? Yeah, that’s not entirely accurate anymore. 

I just hate that the school can take away this job that I’ve worked so hard at, that I really enjoy, that could potentially turn into a full time job for me this semester or after I graduate. It’s like none of that matters. All the work I do doesn’t matter, because at the end of the day, all anyone sees is a number that doesn’t qualify (even though that number is ENTIRELY misleading, but that’s an entirely other discussion). 

My parents are telling me not to freak out, but I just hate that I have to go in and drop this obnoxious bomb on everyone, when they are already worried about who will be working in my department in the next few months. I also hate that I feel like I am issuing them an ultimatum, as I just applied for a full time position there that is very similar to what I do now. By telling them I don’t have work study, it’s almost like saying to them, “Hey, hire me full time or I can’t work at all! Suckers!” I know this isn’t my fault and I’ve done everything I could, but I still feel crappy about it, and it’s pretty hard to change that. 

My dad is calling tomorrow to try to reverse the decision, but I don’t know how much faith to put in that. My boss has also told me in the past that if I was ever denied work-study, they could do….something. I don’t know what, but again, I’m afraid to put too much faith in that. Basically, this sucks. Hopefully, tomorrow I’ll have some uplifting news about how none of this matters anymore because they reversed the decision, but I’m not holding my breath. In fact, I may be looking for a new job. Blerg.

I’m finally figuring out why I might be having some small breakdown about the three month stretch of summer ahead of me: It’s the first time since I came to college that I won’t be working at camp. This may not seem like a big deal to readers who have never been to or worked at camp, especially my camp, but this is an extremely difficult transition for me. Camp has basically been my summer for the past two years. It matured me. It changed the way I see and work with kids. It changed the way I see Judaism. It basically led to me going to Israel. It led to my current debate about my future career. It gave me incredible friends from around the world. It’s weird to think about how the whole kind of started on a whim. (I smell a flashback brewing….)

One day freshman year I was sitting around contemplating my summer. Sitting at home in Ohio working retail didn’t seem to much fun, and I wasn’t going to be able to return to the job I’d had the previous summer working at a children’s theater downtown. I think I was watching (as sad as it seems) MTV’s documentary special “Fat Camp” when I started thinking that working at a camp would be kind of fun. (It’s a shameful source of inspiration, I know.) I’d never gotten to go to “Jew Camp” as a kid, which is slightly bizarre for a young Jewish kid. Going to camp in the Jewish community is a pretty accepted right of passage. It’s so ubiquitous (yeah, I just pulled out some college level vocab) that during my sorority recruitment, the Jewish house on campus had a camp-themed night, assuming anyone serious about joining their sorority had that shared experience. I came close once, but a botched attempt at attending a YMCA camp in 5th grade put me off the idea for a while.

But I digress, after running the idea by my mom, I started to apply to JCC (that’s Jewish Community Center for you gentiles out there) run camps within driving distance of my house. I had a few interviews, but finally landed on the JCC in Cleveland’s camp as my first choice. Not only was it the closest camp to me, but they way the directors described it during my interview gave me chills. When I asked what made each camp special during my interviews, most directors explained about their killer facilities or their complex activities system, but what Meredith and Jodi (my soon to be bosses) described was the energy their camp had. They explained that when all the kids stood up cheering at lunch or sang together in their sprit circle (which sounds waaay more corny that is it, because what it is is just awesome) there was this intense, contagious spirit that everyone possessed, that made even the most difficult of kids want to stand up and cheer, that made you forget about how you looked or the fact that it was raining and made you just want to have the best time possible. They could not have been more right:

(An attempt to show spirit circle in all its glory)

So I excitedly accepted a position as a general counselor for the summer of ’06. When I got to camp for the first time, my excitement deflated a bit. Basically everyone who worked there had been attending slash working at camp for most of their lives. People who were new like me were generally foreign staff. I got asked about 10 times a day “So, why are you here?” It was weird and awkward and a bit like moving. I felt very out of place and grew worried that I had made a terrible decision. How could I fit into a group that had been forming without me for most of my life?

Then the campers arrived and slowly, everything changed. Things became much more about the kids than about the counselors. I suddenly had things to discuss with everyone I couldn’t make conversation with before through the shared experience of shaping these kids’ summer. I was placed in a cabin with two other staff members and 12 13-year-old girls. I could not have asked for a better cabin for my first session. The girls LIVED for camp, and quickly taught me everything I needed to know to get by. They taught me village cheers, they prepared me for Macabia (our 28 hour color war, aka the biggest day of camp), and helped me get through my first spirit circle. As things fell into place with the kids, everyone with the staff got easier. I made friends with the staff in my village and soon, I felt like I’d been there forever, standing on my chair at lunch singing about prunes (loonnnggg weird explanation for that one) and toasted cheese. It slowly became the perfect job. I got to play all day, getting free tennis and rock climbing lessons in the process. I got to spend my Saturdays tanning by the pool with my best friend Sharon, and I got paid to do it! I got paid to act like a kid, while having actual responsibility. I had to take a kid to the hospital and break up fights. That doesn’t sound like fun, but I felt useful and important and helpful. Kids never look more grateful than when you kill a spider for them or give them a snack. By the end of the summer, I knew I had to come back.

I applied to be the drama instructor for the summer of ’07, just to change it up and get a new experience. I was a little nervous about the new job and the fact that some of my best friends weren’t returning to camp, but Sharon would be there, so I figured I’d get by. (Sharon is a bit of a social butterfly, and by a bit, I mean she is literally friends with everyone at camp despite that fact that she started when I did…) I got to camp for staff week and immediately bonded with the lovely Sarah Mac. (who I inspired to blog. Score!) Instantly I knew the summer would not only be as great as the last summer, it may just cross over into legen- wait for it-dary territory.

I could not have been more right. Sarah, Sharon and I formed another instant bond with Lillian, a staffer from England, and I became great friends with Lindsey, a camp lifer who took off summer ’06, so who was new to me:

(Sharon attempting to stuff fries up my nose on a night out. Clearly, we have a bond.)

(Things turn ugly)

(But I clearly gain the upper hand.)

(Lillian, Sarah, Sharon, and I saying our favorite phrase: Hazzah!)

(Lindsey and I in NYC after camp)

Basically, camp was the same (aka fabulously fun), but I had even better friends, taking everything to a whole other level. Plus, I loved my new job. I got to direct two productions (High School Musical first session – you know you are jealous that my extensive knowledge of the HSM dance moves actually helped my job – and You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown second), and I recently found out that my drama cabin activities were voted one of the top 10 cabin activities in camp. Everyone loves some improv games.

It is so hard to explain what makes camp so special. Yes, I loved my job teaching drama, but that was only one aspect of what made my summer special. I’ll try to explain with some specific stories:

1) One night after stopping by the pool for a staff swimming event, Sarah, Lillian, and I walked out onto the large rec field in the middle of camp, and after doing some cartwheels and impromptu dancing, we all laid down with our heads together and just stared up at the ridiculously clear sky and talked about how cool it was that three girls from three different countries could be sitting in the middle of nowhere Ohio together forming this amazing friendship. Where else does this happen? I’ll probably remember that forever.

2) First session, I was chosen to be a captain of one of the five Macabia teams. This is a HUGE honor. Really. It shows that the directors of camp and the judges of that particular Macabia (other staff members chosen by the directors) think you can take on the task of being responsible for a fifth of the camp for a day, inspiring them to have tons spirit, to give this day all they have, and to make it the best day of camp for them. After being violently awoken by Sarah in the middle of the night and made to walk to the center of camp blindfolded, I was so excited to learn I had been picked. The next 28 hours were some of the most tiring of my life. I screamed. I ran miles around camp. I jumped and yelled and waved our Shrek flag high (yeah, we were the Green Shrek team of the animated movie themed Macabia). I wasn’t so focused on winning as I was on making sure my kids had a great time. My co-captain was pretty focused on winning. (He had one of the best win records in camp, apparently). Well, the afternoon of Macabia is capped off by a giant relay race called The Great Race. The race ends with the captains building a fire to burn through a rope, and when the rope burns, the entire team runs to the flagpole and freaks out. Well, my co-captain and I completely owned at fire building and built basically the fastest fire in the history of camp.

(Suck it rope. You’re going down.)

When our fire burned through the rope, I took off as fast as I could toward the flag pole where my entire team screamed and cheered for a good 20 minutes. I didn’t think the day could get much better until I stood in front of the stage in front of the entire camp, holding my co-captain’s hand, thinking we couldn’t win since we had won the Great Race – it’s a camp myth you can’t win the Great Race AND win all of Macabia – when the judges turned their pitchers upside down and poured water all over me. (See, the judges each stand behind each pair of captains with two pitchers. One pitcher contains something different then the others, and that is the one of the winning team. In our case, all the pitchers were empty except for the ones above us, which, as I said before, had water in them) At first I thought I was being hit with water from the team beside me, but then it hit me as my entire team flipped the hell out. I then took off running again toward the pool, completely high on excitement. As per camp tradition, the judges and captains always run into the pool fully clothed at the end of Macabia. I broke my not-water-proof watch in the process of pool jumping, but was totally worth it. It was one of the best moments of my summer.

3) Second session, my fellow cabin staffers and I wanted to do something special for our girls, so we bought each of them a charm to make into a special cabin bracelet. The thing was, they each had to give their charm to someone else who had inspired or influenced them in the cabin. We figured the girls would do well with the activity, but even I was surprised by some of the things they said about each other. When a camper who I had in my cabin both sessions got to give away her charm, she gave it to me, saying I had helped her have one of the best summers of her life. How can you not have a good night after that? I still have that charm on a necklace I wear all the time.