the macarena is so not dead.

not only did i stay up with our group of girls until after midnight WITHOUT complaining, i stayed in the room with the dj (yes, there was a dj--oh wait, the pc term is "entertainer" i know this because i met one outside the liquor store the other night. i'll have to remember to tell you that story).

while they piped tunes directly at the only table that happened to be lit with good reading light (imagine me sitting there reading a tedious chapter on archaeology of the pueblos--i hate introductions, where they tell you what they are going to tell you--JUST TELL ME! they feel like such a needless waste of time and time is no longer a commodity i possess in excess. but i must read all the pages of a book regardless of tedium because that is my nature).

i'm sitting there, my daughter walks up on occasion to see if i will come and dance with her, which i oblige when the chicken dance comes on (it's such a rediculous song, how can you not dance like a chicken? i am not made of stone).

but the moms were bitches. i hate generalizations, but generally, when there are camp events and all leaders and only leaders are present, these are women who are used to accomodating all kinds and types of girls. not so different when dealing with other adults. many, many times, i am surprised by how open these leaderwomen are. but when it is a mom/daughter thing, i'm often offput by interactions with these ladies. what's the difference? i guess the service nature of leadership brings out the best in people. and the mom/daughter gigs are just fraught with bitches.

but we laughed and got on. i was so pleased when my daughter who had taken to pouting (they all take turns at the pout), jumped at the chance to lead a song around the campfire. instead of grabbing the spotlight (or flashlight) for herself, she rallied her begrudging girl friends to sing along with her even taking time to instruct them in the lyrics there were suddenly so interested in (when she presented the idea of learning songs on the way to camp she was denied, much to her dismay).

but all ends well. and hypocrisy knows no bounds. we sing all kinds of gross songs around the fire, and our girls sing one about the demise of varying animals (in rhyme, no less), and are met with "that's disgusting." which immediately forged that song as THE song for our girls to sing. it will forever be their camp song, the uniter of the girls who were at times at odds.

when they got up to sing, they were asked,

where are you from?

and when they answered one of the moms blurted,

what are they doing here?

sigh. bitches.

we went to our cabin after the "disgusting song"
and guess who our bunkmates are?

you're right. the blurter's group.

whatever, we roll with the punches and move on.
we got woefully lost on the way to camp, and stumbled in a full hour after passing and circling the location. we wandered into another camp nearby who gave us directions. apparently the sign for the camp we were looking for was a big orange circle.

i know that circle,

i said,

we passed it several times.

so through out the time there, we kept joking about the orange circle. we are going to get tshirts made with a big orange circle on them.

we played bingo and the waiting was the worst part. but the girls and i got a case of bingo pox, and laughed our way through.

more pouting ensued for varying reasons and we rounded out the event in rowboats on the lake.

it was a great time.