I’m going to talk about my week! Yeah! (And forgive me if there are typos, I’m on my sister’s computer and the n key sticks like crazy!)
So I just got to my sister’s house from a state 4-H camp called OMC–which stands for Older Member’s Conference. This is an older 4-H camp for the older members (because 4-H is an 8 to 21 year old club) and you have to be between the age of a freshman in high school to a twenty-one year old in college.
I like this camp more than a lot of others because of the age. My county older 4-H camp ranges from 12-21, so the youngins are a bit too young for my liking. At OMC, we can be dirty. We can make crude jokes with extreme sexual innuendos and get away with it without any trouble. Most of all, I like this camp because I only see these people once a year.
Now, if you’ve never been to camp then you can’t really relate. There’s something fun–something adventurous about it. I like my friends, they’re fine people, but there is absolutely something different about these 4-H friends. I’d hate them if I saw them all year long, but most of them live about seven hours away (so the seeing them all the time thing is covered and covered well.)
My week went great. I met so many great people. Four of the boys there followed me around all week hitting on me awkwardly, which I for one adore. I love being hit on.
We had a speaker each day and the good thing about this camp in particular is that we have a discussion type thing where we talk to an experienced elder and ask questions in front of the whole camp. The campers can have a conversation with each other during this and I adore it! I’m a talker though, right? We have the ability to be intelligent, and the intelligent thrive here.
As the week progressed, I learned many things. I learned some more propaganda about alcohol, I learned about civility, I learned about rich bastards that we suck up to so that they can give more money to us, I learned about the world.
I hope that I never forget the people and actions there. I hope that I never forget me and a friend making fun of a fellow for his love of midgets, or the weird as fuck looking bug that landed on my boobs, or my sister crying hysterically in front of 300 people. I don’t want to forget my community service or the tornado that struck about a mile away from the camp that destroyed many places but didn’t touch us. I don’t want to forget my brother singing while I sipped on coffee in the back, or a fellow I have had a crush on for years looking like crazy for chocolate milk so that he wouldn’t have to drink coffee like a big boy. I hope that I will never ever forget the good times, the great times, the fantastic times.
I loved this week, and I’ll love the next month even more <3
But! Party time!
Have a wonderful life,
Olive Juice,
Elizabeth <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
