Ok so i was talking about summer camp, and this is what came out.

In the summer of 1998, I had just finished 7th grade and was looking forward to 8th, being top banana in the school and getting all of the cool benefits that went along with it. The summer was long and stretched out before me almost infinitely. It allowed for time to do so many things, like go “Up North” as we call it in Michigan, or to simply laze around with my best friend playing Sailor Moon all day while munching on Doritos. Or, I could spend some time at summer camp.
This was my second one-week session at sleep away summer camp. Nissakone is on an inlet lake off of Lake Huron, surrounded by wilderness and an old Air Force base. The lake itself, Lake Von Etton, was rumored to be full of leeches; which made everyone uncomfortable when it was time to go swimming. There were stables too, and the horses were on a new feed, so they farted continuously throughout our rides which was equally disgusting and hilarious. But the best thing was that the camp was co-ed, which led to the thrilling prospect of meeting a cute boy and having a summer romance.
That year I ended up in the cabin with all the crazies. I am surprised that my counselors could bear it. They were both from the U.K. and had charming British accents, and I liked them better than any of the girls in the cabin, who seemed determined to destroy me.
I do not have great memories of camp. I can still remember the first night I was there in my second year, hearing two girls in the bunk above me discuss their opinions of everyone in the group, only to be called a geek because I carried a notebook and said I wanted to become a journalist. This put a kink in my plan to make lots of new friends within my group. I pretended to sleep, even though I was equally infuriated and hurt by the girls words. However, I would like to mention that I didn’t like her anyway. I thought she was an idiot because she sang a made up word to the newest Backstreet Boys song, insisting that that was how it went. I felt superior to her in this way, and it seemed to help me to get over the fact that she thought I was a geek.
The other girls in the cabin seemed to be fine, an are unremarkable to me except for Contact Lens Girl and Claudia the Crusher.
Contact Lens Girl was nice enough. She is called Contact Lens Girl for two reasons: one because I can’t remember her real name, and two because she wore special green contact lenses. She talked about cats a lot, and took to wearing one special green contact and one regular one, Marilyn Manson style. I thought she was vaguely creepy, which I also thought was really cool. She only ate salad and never went swimming.
Then there was Claudia The Crusher. She was like a bully character in a kids movie. She was very tall and athletic with sort brown hair, and she only wore clothes from Abercrombie and Fitch. Claudia would constantly talk about how she was going to Spain when camp was over, how her family is Spanish, and how rich she was. She took an immediate dislike to my cheerfulness and hyperactivity, two things I prided myself in. Not that I was the kind of person that could be pushed around. When she attacked I fought back, but she was much stronger than me. And I had never encountered a bully who’s main attack was use of physical strength. She actually pushed me and shoved me out of the line for food on more than one occasion. I tried to push back, but it was like a kitten trying to move a brick.
Needless to say, my “make lots of friends plan” was not going so well.
Then came The Dare. The most daring dare of my thirteen year old life.

“Hang your bra on the hook outside the cabin! Where the GUYS can see it!”
It was a horrifying concept. But so strong was my teenage need to fit in that I was willing to do almost anything, including sacrifice my dignity and doing something that was deemed “inappropriate.” For one thing, my bra was a very private matter to me in middle school, as this was in 1998 before it was cool to have your underwear showing. But I wanted to be accepted, I wanted to shock people, and most of all I wanted to show Claudia that I wasn’t a wimp.
Therefore my tiny little “introductory” brazier hung on the hook outside the cabin for three whole days, out in plain view of the boys who happened to pass by on their way to the high ropes course. Claudia didn’t hang her bra outside, but two other girls did along with me, including Contact Lens Girl.
I have come to realize that this small moment was and is in some way symbolic, but I think I might lack the wisdom at this point in my life to fully appreciate it’s weight. All I know is that it felt really good to out-do Claudia the Crusher. And that is enough for me.

Let me know what you think! Please be nice