June 5, 1999.

Very tired. I spent today at a counselor instructional seminar...and I do mean all of today. I haven't gotten up for a 9-4 shift in almost ten months.

It wasn't so bad. I'm absolutely petrified of being parachuted into groups of strange people. First days terrify me and I usually become introverted and surly. But I must admit, these people knew their stuff. Within an hour I was yakking away with the other counselors, despite my initial hesitancy.

Some of that reluctance comes from the simple fact that they're all camp counselor types. Happy, energetic, positive, outgoing, creative, organized and experienced as hell...it's enough to make you puke. I, on the other hand, have zero hard organizational credentials and have been charitably described as "mostly inert." It took me a long time to find a peer group to appreciate my cynical charms...and now I'm in charge of seven 11 year old girls.

Lucky thing I don't have to fake liking the Spice Girls.

At one point I actually said something along those lines, and they asked the only question possible. 'So why are you here?' Because the idea of high achiever camp is intriguing. Because I want to expand my horizons a bit. Because I want to learn how to deal with children better. Because it looks amazing on my teacher's college resume. It's certainly not because I think anyone in my world-weary, coffee house, poetry scribbling, GK Chesterton reading circle of compatriots is interested in hearing me talk about my camp experiences.

Lucky you, you get it anyway.

It feels like I've been doing homework forever. I've almost completely given up teevee. I've only been to Phantom Menace once. I never drink with my friends unless the occasion is absolutely vital, i.e. the night before Paris' departure to Capitol City. I haven't been to the Commune since the Buffalo victory Monday night. I wonder if anyone misses me. I wonder if I miss me.

Well, back to polly hiss.