Can I leave yet?

Back in Virginia Beach...

I have been just a little bit down lately. I am trying my very hardest to kick off this blanket of negativity and sadness that I seem to place myself under every time I return home, but it is proving pretty difficult this time around.

I spent this past week at a beach house with my grandparents, dad's four brothers and my cousin Ryan and her boyfriend. It was really nice to be out of Virginia Beach, and my uncle's crude jokes and matriarchal grandmother's clever but biting criticisms kept me laughing. I spent a lot of time in my room that week, studying and watching and reading far too many news programs, becoming red in the face with anger most days because of our country's stupidity. I have never been very political, but with my generation's current reactions to the turmoil our economy is facing and the despicable greed and depravity that allowed it to happen cannot remain a passing headline for me. I certainly don't know enough about the way Wall Street, and our economy in general works, but I do know enough to be certain that the way its being run now is not at all acceptable or just.

I don't want to harp on depressing current events, but the condition of the Outer Banks (where the beach house was located) is still pretty disasterous after the hurricane. All throughout Salvo there are gigantic piles of pieces of houses, fridges, toys, cars, trash, etc - remnants of Irene. Much of Rodanthe is still underwater, and the towns are eerily vacant, even for this time of year.

But, here is something beautiful that was happening not too far away:

It was really wonderful to spend some time with my cousin Ryan. Though we are vastly different, we managed to find a lot of common ground and had many great conversations and laughs. I mentioned that we are different; Ryan is a domestic goddess. She spent a lot of time cooking and preparing elegant alcoholic beverages. She spent the majority of her downtime with her nose in home decorating magazines, every once in a while murmuring something like "Wow! Crown molding really does make a difference!"

Some other highlights of last week include a hilarious rendition of 'Under Pressure' performed via skype by Tim Berryman, Uncle Eric's cheesecake (the most delicious cheesecake I have ever eaten), and a beautiful collection of shells gathered during my many walks on the beach. 

After the beach I left straight for Shepherdstown, West Virginia. After a six hour drive I arrived at the Prillaman farmhouse and Liesel and I went straight to the garden where we chatted while picking beans and pumpkins. That night Liesel, Lars, a few of their friends and I went to this really incredible little hippy-ish commune-ish place called 'Folly' where we listened to some really beautiful music being played from a stage surrounded by creepy marionettes and gigantic painted Tarot cards. It was a really great night. 

The next day Lars had to go off to the Farmer's Market, and Liesel and I went to Harper's Ferry for a hike. Harper's Ferry is a neat little town with a lot of history and natural beauty. It's where Maryland, Virginia, and West Virginia meet, and the Potomac and Shenandoah rivers combine. We hiked the Maryland Heights trail with her doggies in tow.

We were very exhausted that night. After seeing Lars' finger dance, laughing too much for my sunburned lips to handle, and eating delicious food from their garden, I went to sleep all the while dreading my return to Virginia Beach. I really love those two and Shepherdstown. I will hopefully return for one last visit before New Zealand. 

Here are some pictures of the farm and other cool things (like cute babies).

Rachel and baby Jude

all of Graham's mushrooms from my mushroom photoshoot, such beautiful little things

Liesel's Birds

a really cool caterpillar

the creek in the Prillaman backyard

a great old barn on their property

ha! 

That is all for now. 24 days til New Zealand, and in a couple of days I will be 24 (eesh).

from the yellow floral couch

I am at Sarah's apartment in Richmond, currently locked IN (yes, in). It is equally as strange being in this apartment as it was when I visited Katherine and Kelly's apartment in Brooklyn. I have lived with those three girls for the 3 years prior to my exodus. All of the 'things' are the same, they are just arranged differently, and with new things in between the old that have been added by Ashley, Sarah's new roommate, and Geneva, Katherine and Kelly's new roommate.

From my vantage point, from the yellow floral couch, I can see Ferdinand, the giant buffalo taxidermied head, my old LIFE magazine poster with the 1950's 3D glass wearing audience, our old record player stand, and Sarah's aloe plants. I no longer have partial ownership of any of these things, but it is comforting to see that they still exist.

Well, I am 'home' again. Back from New York, back from the pseudo heaven that is camp. I have been feeling separation anxiety from some of the wonderful people I met, the lake and the trees, and the love and energy that I felt every second of every day there. Instead of living in a beautiful, old stone building with a beautiful lake view that I shared with some of the best adult people and children people that I have ever met, I am living in 'the yellow room' at my mother's boyfriend's house. The yellow room's perks include a gigantic television the size of my bed and a computer monitor the size of a normal big screen television. My mother, for some reason, believed that these two items would be enough incentive for me to stay there all the time and be happy with it. It only took me a day and a half to begin to plan my escape. Unfortunately, my dreamy escape plans were ruined by practicalities and realities. I am now in the process of trying to convince myself that I will happily survive here for the next month and a week.

I have decided to make this month and a week purposeful and productive, and have signed up (and paid the ridiculous amount of money) for the GREs. Everyday until then I will spend in my mother's work area in a little room with no windows labeled "Special Needs Room." In this room I will be trying to teach myself the absurd, impossible, unreasonable, and just plain silly concept known as Mathematics. I have always been terrible at it, and I am afraid that after having gone 6 years without taking a math course, I am even more hopeless than ever. I will also hopefully pluck the strings of the little ukelele that Tim had entrusted to me.

Anyway, while I am studying I will also be applying to jobs in various cities, states, countries, continents, etc. I would share my more specific targets, but I am afraid I will get myself all excited like usual and then something will happen that prevents me from going. So my normally big mouth is now small and quiet.

While I am home, I am going to try and update this fairly frequently. I am not sure if anyone even reads it anymore, but just in case there is in fact someone reading this- look more often!

Camp is Over... now what..?

I was terrible about keeping this updated while I was at camp, words will come later, but I have pictures now (isn't it weird to see a post filled with more pictures of people than plants?!)

view from an Upper Stonehouse window on a foggy morning

thats how many girls we had to take care of!

view from our deck

my exhibit for the art show

my "poet-tree" and the tree stump chair circle where I taught most days

evening off at the hotel with Britny, Allison and Tim

Dio De Las Muertas in the FAB!

2nd Session Girls

I am not supposed to have favorites, but......

double rainbow over the lake!

View from the top of Coney Mountain

Justin camoflauged 

Tupper Lake Beach

Jim doing his fire throwing!

Max, Britny and Amanda on Pirates vs. Vikings day!

The roommates before Mintons (a prom-like thing for the kids)

Chris and Webby

August and Joey performing

Tim and Lighty at Buttermilk Falls

Tim and the Directors performing 'Brown Sugar'

two of my favorites!

Staff party dancing

Britny and Robyn

The Irish, English and I

waiting around for new kids to arrive!

There will be more words later... stay tuned!

1 week and 2 days with 26 9-12 year olds.

The kids have arrived. All 350 of them are running around my formerly sacred gardening grounds as I write this. It took me a while to adjust to the change of jobs, change of coworkers and the hundreds of children, but I think I finally have it down.

I absolutely adore my job. I am more tired than ever before at the end of each day, but every minute of exhaustion has been completely worth it. I have been assigned as a counselor in the most beautiful of all the bunks, a hundred year old stone building fittingly titled "Stonehouse." There are 26 hilarious, bratty, sweet, demanding, lovable, obnoxious, darling 9-12 year olds. There are four other counselors alongside me and everyday we struggle to get our girls to do the most simple of tasks. Many of these children come from ridiculously rich households and do not know how to do much of anything for themselves (a few days ago I had to teach a 12 year old how to sweep). I get very frustrated with them, but I cannot ever stay mad because they are so damn adorable.

Sleeping has become a huge luxury. The girls have us check for spiders in their beds several times a night, and often wake us up to ask what they are going to do tomorrow. Their attention spans are all ridiculously small and I believe some of them must have hearing problems, because they rarely listen when we speak.

My job as a creative writing counselor is vastly different. Most days are spent writing collaborative stories or haiku outside in chairs made of tree stumps. I have helped with raps, songwriting, and screenplays (I have to make it up as I go, most of the time I have no idea what I am doing). The only time that I haven't been able to make it up is when I have worked with this incredible 14 year old poetic prodigy. She makes me feel just awful about my own ability every time she comes to write.

It has only been about 2 and a half weeks since I have known my fellow counselors but I already feel very close to a few of them (again, its this strange communal lifestyle that pushes people together so quickly). I was given a nickname by a few of them at pre-camp: Emerson, and it has stuck. The name was given because during the first couple of days of camp I was very adamant about spending time alone, and I was consistently writing and talking about how beautiful all of the nature was here. I didn't mind it when they first teased me with it and I actually quite like it now.

Tomorrow is my first day off and I already have made a number of exciting plans. More later!

Here are some pictures from pre-camp, more to come soon!

Tupper Lake

waiting for our sea-plane ride

Adam and the pilot in the sea plane

Long Lake from above

sky and Laura