Monday, June 25, 2012
Going to summer camp
It's kinda funny to be following up my I-am-going-to-act-more-grown-up post by talking about how I am going to spend the summer at camp. This is just the way my life is, me, pretending to be all mature and the rest of the world wondering who I think I'm fooling. (as a side note, this may be why Tony and I work so well. I think he is the only one I may be fooling). Anyhow, summer camp. I get to spend all summer at camp CRAFTING, Y'ALL! I'm excited about that. And about how my family gets to be there with me the whole time. The kids have never been to camp, so it's kind of cool to be experiencing it together for the first time. I am not so excited about having to meet so many new people. In fact, that is probably an understatement. I am terrified. Panicky, even. The rational side of me (my better half) is having a hard time convincing my stranger/danger inner being that everything will be ok. But strangers are dangerous. And cooler than me. I am perpetually an awkward eleven year old. (this is where I would insert a picture of me in 6th grade if this were a cool blog, because isn't it amazing how much I have changed? Classic ugly duckling turned beautiful swan. Except I'm not so sure I am all that different. And I can't find the picture, which may be a more accurate reason.) I sometimes feel trapped in a corner of my brain while another Tricia takes over and will not stop talking. Word vomit. Lots of it. Other Tricia keeps talking and talking while I am in my head screaming "Shut up, shut up! Stop talking!" But other Tricia ignores all my requests. Then I start talking about all of these entirely too personal stories to be sharing with someone I met 5 minutes ago. And I relate every story they have to something that once happened to me, even if it has nothing at all in common. And the word vomit keeps coming. And then when it's all over, I never want show my face around anyone again. My heart is racing thinking about this. I have to go out to staff training in two days, and I am having a hard time breathing. Tony is sweet and he keeps telling me how he has confidence in me. That he thinks I am great and that I have so much to offer and blah, blah, blah. He means well, but I feel like he is the stage dad behind the curtain encouraging his tone deaf daughter to belt out that tune. I know he is confident in my ability, but that doesn't mean his confidence is based in reality. I may have blinded him to my total lack of social decorum with a few kisses here and there. And yet, here I am. Packing up for a summer full of the unknown. This is the growing up part, I guess. The fact that I want to hide under my blanket with my eyes shut tight and my fingers in my ears but here I am, rolling up sleeping bags, packing away our flip flops and flashlights. I may disappear a couple times to hide in a bathroom while I am there, but I will be there. I will sing the loudest and most off key I ever have. And Tony will be there, telling me I sound like an angel.