Memoir Monday

Travis at I Like To Fish started Memoir Monday.
I've tried it out, and kinda like it... so here's another moment from the past.
Check out Travis' blog, if you haven't...

Sometimes teenage girls can be a terror. I know, this isn't a freaking surprise, right? But I was one, so I have first hand knowledge.

I spent quite a few summers going to summer camp. It was a horse camp in the middle of Eastern Washington. It was dry, hot desert, and so much fun I never wanted to go home. I started out as a camper, then I progressed into going as a "junior staff". That essentially meant that we went for free, worked our asses off, and got lots of "extras" for rewards. Extra privileges, extra fun. Things like overnight camp-outs by canoe on the other side of the lake, field trips, extra food. We got to sleep in "staff" quarters. And we got to mess around a ton. (Eventually I became a full-fledged staff member - for some reason they kept letting me come back - receiving a piddly amount of money for my fun. But that's another story.)

One year, there was a handful of us girls, with only a couple of guys. One of the guys - David - was French, shy, quiet. My friend Christina and I were loud, wild and obnoxious. Poor guy. It was the year of Rapture by Blondie (if you've never heard it, enlighten yourself - look it up on youtube and listen - the real beginning of rap - ha!). Christina and I knew every word, and walked around singing it. Loudly. Among other ridiculous loud songs. I'm sure we couldn't sing, but we didn't care. We thought we were all that.

One night poor David was sleeping on a bottom bunk and Christina, me and another girl snuck into the boys quarters and hung an old cow skull right above his head. (Not a decorative cow skull - a real, from a dead cow, skull) We attached it to the bottom of the bunk above him, so it was staring right at him. Apparently he was a sound sleeper, because he snored through it all. And then we snuck back out.

Yes, we heard David yell from our quarters on the other side of the camp lodge. And we laughed ourselves silly. We thought we were the shit. It was only one of many practical jokes played through the years. And really a fairly tame one. Unless you were David. A shy, quiet, French boy stuck in the hot, desert in hicksville at a summer camp with hormonal, crazy teenage girls.

***Ally