This One Time At Drama Camp....

You ever notice how things that were a huge deal in high school are the least of your worries nowadays? Yeah, I'd kill for my biggest problem to be that I don't have a boyfriend. That's still a problem... just a more minor problem. Although, thankfully now that I'm in my twenties, I finally have a sense of self, a healthy perspective on life, and, you know, all that other shit. I spent about an hour today looking at old pictures of myself on facebook from my teen years. Maybe one day I can look back on those times fondly, but for now it's just depressing.  

Oh gawd, remember when I was friends with her? What a bitch...... I was so skinny then.... If I find one more picture of me making the duck-lip face, I swear...... I remember thinking that outfit was so cute, what an idiot......DUCK LIPS? AGAIN?? How did I have friends?? ...... oh yeah, that girl! I wonder why we never talk anymore.... maybe it's because I'm a freak who wore orange-sherbet colored leggings and had perma-duck-lips..... 

 To the left, you will notice I've put together a set of duck-lip photos for your amusements and my embarrassment.

I think looking over all my younger years, my fondest memories were at theatre camp. Specifically YATA. I went to multiple theatre camps every summer since I could speak basically. Theatre camps are an experience unlike any other.


Summer camp gives kids a unique opportunity to be the person they desire to be. They can't do this at school, because everyone already knows them and has formed opinions accordingly. But at summer camp, you don't know anyone. You can reinvent yourself.

 I walked into YATA (Young Adult Theatre Academy) the summer of 2006 before my Junior year of high school, finally able to separate myself from the geeky weirdo I was back at home. The camp was in my grandmama's hometown, Owensboro, KY, so I didn't know anyone. The freedom was intoxicating.

If I'm being honest, a group of theatre kids is the best group there is. Everyone's a weirdo in his or her own way. Everyone constantly talks over each other. Seriously. No one ever shuts up. Ever. It's a wonder anything ever gets accomplished.

seriously, someone should've
slapped me.

One thing that made YATA different than any other theatre camps I attended is that the campers were divided into different concentrations. There were the dancers, the actors, and the techies. In each sect developed a set of stereotypes widely believed to be true amongst the campers, just like the different cliques in high school.

The actors were the loud and obnoxious campers. Most had inflated egos, and all thought they were going to be famous. They craved attention. Seriously, you'd think that no one hugged them when they were babies. They were the campers who overwhelmed the instructors to the point of insanity because they never stopped talking. Imagine a room full of 25 caffeinated kids with ADHD. The girls were notoriously slutty, and this was probably due to the fact that none of us could dance AND our group included the highest percentage of guys who were straight. This group was home to yours truly (as if that was a surprise to anyone). I made friends with a straight guy who's name will remain anonymous because I developed a crush on him that later destroyed our friendship. Yayyyyyy not knowing how to deal with rejection during adolescence!!!

The dancers were the bitchy anorexics. Or at least that's how I justified  how much I ate in comparison to any of them. They were also the "hot" campers (female), and the "who are you kidding, you are so gay" campers (male). Dancers [supposedly] SUCKED at everything other than dancing, which made the rest of us feel a little better about not being the hot ones. While the groups hardly intermingled, I did become quite close with a dancer, Alice. (for the record, she didn't suck at everything else. Also she was not bitchy or anorexic) She stayed with me at my grandmama's for those two weeks. We befriended another guy, who I think ended up in the dance group, Ben. He was unusual to the dance group because he was straight, and he had no dance experience. He chose the dance group mainly so he could watch hot girls stretch.





The Techies were the outliers: the ugly and untalented. The misfits of the theatrical world. They long to be charismatic like the actors, or graceful like the dancers, but they aren't, so the best they can do is run the lights or make costumes. They are the little people, put on earth to serve performers. It's pitiful, really. -- What? That's not true? Not even close? That's just what the arrogant actors think? Oh. Oops? I actually did become friends with a techie, Lily, who was anything but untalented. She also stayed at my grandmama's for the two weeks. She was in the techie group because she was actually very good at all of those aspects. She was cool. The rest however, looked like trolls. (Kidding!)

It took all of 3 hours for these divisions to take place and solidify, and by the end of the first day the gossip had already started (all most likely birthed by those in the acting group, naturally). "So-and-so totally likes this boy, and helloooo, that is so not going to happen." "So-and-so was definitely flirting with that-girl, which is funny, because I heard that he has a girlfriend back home." "She wants that guy? I hope she likes being a beard." Around day 3, a guy who went to camp the year before, but didn't that year because he was in a "real" play came to visit, and all the girls thought he was "sooooooo hott!!! <3 :P"(myself included, until I realized what a dick he is.) What would really make me happy is if this guy ends up being gay. Or fat. And bald. And most importantly, having to go back to school because his acting career is a dead-end.

Duck lips, peace sign AND sunglasses inside? I look
so cool.

Okay, one thing I've always wondered, and maybe someone can clear this up for me: In acting sessions, we did so many activities that had seemingly nothing to do with acting. Like, meditation, or writing down our observations about our surroundings, journaling. This is my hypothesis: I don't believe that any of that was actually meant to help develop some set of skills. I think that the instructors told us some BS about how it will help us, used some fancy word like "focus" or "internalize," and really the only purpose was so we'd all shut up for 20 minutes. I think Miss Connie made us lay down and "meditate" when her ass was tired of standing up. Which now that I think of it is actually not a bad idea.

I went back to this camp two more times after that first summer, and even though the camp changed and I made new friends, the atmosphere stayed the same. Nothing really topped that first summer though. It was the most fun I'd had in my whole 16 years. Something that I find really interesting is looking at how many of us actually continued on to do theatre in college. I'm hopefully going to see some fellow campers I've stayed in touch with when I go to Owensboro next week. I haven't talked to a lot of my close friends from YATA '06 in years, but it's okay. As corny and stupid as it sounds, we'll always have that summer.

Feel Free to Rub Your Boogers All Over Me, Little Darlin'

I've been going through some emotional times as of recently. By emotional times, I mean days in which I will cry for seemingly no reason.

There was the day where I cried while watching the heart wrenching programming on Food Network. (Yes, it was Paula's Best Dishes. Yes, I do realize how strange that is. She  worked so hard to get to where she's at today! She came from nothing! You know what - I can't talk about this, I'm getting choked up) I texted Anna & Taylor (friends from high school) in the moment, because I know that no matter what crazy things I say to them they'll always be my friends. I may not be free from judgement, but I know they won't stop talking to me. I know too many incriminating stories about them. I cried several other times that day over little things.

Then there was Monday. Monday morning, around 7:03 the emotional downward spiral started in motion, full speed ahead into Crazyville. 7:00 - registered for classes for my second semester of senior year. 7:02 - completed registration. 7:03 - realized that I just registered for classes for the very last time, and that I am graduating on May 5th, 2012, exactly 170 days from now. I cried. All day.

So needless to say, I've been thinking about how not ready I am to be a real adult (cut off from everything except my mother and step dad's health insurance, which I hope they don't take away until I get my own or until I'm too old to still be considered a dependent). I'm really not ready. Today I told Nina, or Kristin (roommates), I can't remember which one, about how easy life would be if I was a baby. I wished I was a baby so I could just sit around all day doing nothing and soiling myself.

A couple hours later, I found myself in the Bethlehem Center's Childcare facility, volunteering for a class. I was assigned to help out with Ms Lavern, Miss Tonya, and Miss TC(teecee? I don't know how it's spelled, but it's pronouced tee-see)'s classes: the toddlers. It didn't take long for me to retract the statement about wishing I was a baby.

The thing I've noticed about being a toddler is how they are constantly living in panic-mode. There's always something going on. If Abby isn't following you around trying to take your toy away, McKenzie is following you around looking for an opportunity to bite your face. Why specifically your face is anyone's guess. She's a weirdo. And then Jacob comes out of nowhere and punches you! He has to sit in timeout because of it, but still. What the hell is his problem?

Everything is new to a toddler. Everything. They learn something new every 30 seconds. And it's big stuff too! Not just colors and numbers. Things like sharing, respecting elders, and that no one will talk to you if you smear poop on yourself, all essential life lessons.

I sat on the ground and one little girl sat on top of me and looked at my face for a while. That's another thing about toddlers that I find interesting - they never know a stranger. I was there for maybe two minutes and 4 kids had grabbed books and brought them to me to read. After smudging my glasses with her fingers and shouting jibberish at me, the little girl became fascinated with my, ahem, "anatomy." Somehow, she managed to get a peek down my shirt. (Lucky her, right? Too far?) I grabbed her hand and told her that was "my business" and put her back on the floor. She pulled on her own shirt collar and looked down to compare. I stood up and she scrambled behind me. Apparently the voices inside her developing perverted mind were telling her to stick her hands in my back pockets. If she wasn't still in diapers, I could've sued for sexual assault. However inappropriate it was, still, she was learning. I ran into a class mate volunteering with the older children. He asked who I was working with, and I told him, "toddlers."
    "Oooh..." he said, wincing as if he'd just seen someone get kicked in the stomach. "How's that going?"
    "Alright," I said. "One girl actually blew her nose onto my jacket. But it's all good. It's been a while since I've been covered in someone else's snot." Hey, at least it was a baby and not some homeless guy  shooting me with nostril lava. Either one wouldn't know any better, I guess.

I realized that the toddlers and I have a lot in common. They are in the beginning stages of what I'm just about finished with: education. Now, I know they say you never stop learning blah blah blah. But once I get that degree I am done with formal schooling. I will have an official document stating that I know some stuff. I'll be a lot like the toddlers upon entering the real world: constantly overwhelmed from the never ending parade of new experiences, and still laughing at potty-humor. Toddlers do it everyday, I can do it for sure. I mean, yeah, toddlers don't have to pay rent, but I don't have to smell someone else's poopy diaper all day. That is until I have kids.

Crap. More panic. And I had just calmed myself down.