Here I am folks, back in Colorado. If you really want to know the truth, I’m not that happy about it. Ok, I am pretty happy about it, save for the fact that being back means being back at my job. Stupid, stupid job.
So Montana was awesome, though. It was a whole week of playing and, as luck would have it, my Camp Boyfriend from last year was there. Just to clarify, he is not in fact actually my boyfriend, just a guy I have had a crush on at camp since last summer. And also to clarify, he is a fellow counselor, not a high-school-aged camper. Because ew. Anyway, it was fun to spend the week with him, and frankly, I’m pretty surprised that he remained oblivious to the crush, because EVERYONE knew about it. Or maybe he did know and was playing it off like he didn’t in order to avoid the awkwardness associated with unreciprocated crushes in fairly close proximity. Or maybe he had a crush on me as well, and never said anything because he was worried about the awkwardness associated with unreciprocated crushes in fairly close proximity. I'd like to say (fine -- call it "wishful thinking" if you MUST) that there was some flirting going on on his part – the threats of throwing me into the creek in my clothes; the time he was covered in this applesauce-like substance that we had been using for relay races and was at that time being used as weaponry and he was standing behind me with his arms around me and his hands full of the stuff, mere inches from my face; the teasing; the other things that as I read this makes me realize that this is what I now think is flirting after I'm with 30 high school kids for a week. Sigh. I suppose that this would have been a good time to maybe have a short, breezy conversation about it (you know, the kind where you could play it off as a joke if it got wheird). Or not. Whatever.
Montana was not only awesome because of Camp Boyfriend, though. It was awesome because I have the best group of kids EVER and we have so much fun no matter what we do. And the great thing is that I can be as immature and ridiculous as I want to, and no one looks at me like I've lost my mind. In fact, they love it. There was a lot of dancing and singing and yelling and running around. There were campfires every night, and all kinds of camp songs and weird contests like who can peel and eat an orange the fastest and who can hold a mouthful of alka-seltzer and Sprite in their mouth the longest without swallowing any or spitting any out. That last challenge is NOT easy, and I was THIS CLOSE to beating Dane, but I had to spit it out. There was jumping off of the trunk of a fallen tree into the creek that is so cold it takes your breath away at first. We hiked up to this place where there are a couple of really beautiful waterfalls and took tons of pictures. We stayed out until midnight the last night we were there and looked up at the stars – it’s amazing there because we’re so far from any city that it’s always pitch black and you can see every star in the sky – and lots of shooting stars. We did relays and team challenges and there was a lot of laughing and sarcasm and surprisingly, no drama. I ate close to 15 fudgesicles throughout the week, because Montana is home to the very best fudgesicles in the entire world – Wilcoxson’s Deluxe Fudge Bars – and so we eat as many as possible when we’re there. We (the counselors) stashed a couple of boxes in the camp manager’s cabin and after lunch, we’d walk down there and eat one while the kids had free time. It had to be on the down low though, because the kids love them as much as we do. It was peaceful and gorgeous and so many other things and I always hate when it ends, because it means I have to go back to regular life and stress and stupid stuff like that.
I’ll have pictures eventually, which I’ll post. And in the meantime I’ll sit here in my cubicle and wish I was sitting on the patio eating a fudgesicle and preparing to run across the meadow and down to the creek. Sigh. I miss camp.