Of Flowers and Oak Leaves

Camp.

Camp camp camp camp camp camp camp!

C
A
M
P!

C.A.M.P!

I've got camp on the brain, can you tell?

So what if camp happened over a month ago? I've still got Emerald Cove fever pulsing through my veins and I've got no intention of bleeding it out. I mean, who in their right mind would want to?

This all might sound a little crazy, but then again camp (at least my camp) isn't exactly for the sane. I mean, once you've been to YSSC, things like seeing Biz jump-rope on a fax machine seem pretty normal.

And I think that's my problem.

Camp is so exciting and so incredibly otherworldly, that after those brilliant two weeks are over and you return to the mundane routines of your everyday life, you immediately begin to feel withdrawal. Depression in unavoidable in my case, and suddenly my friends here at home don't even begin to compare those I have at camp. Not to mention the staff.

Oh, the staff! How I envy them. While we get a measly twelve days, they get the whole summer of Flower Sundays, Oak Leaf Mondays, Lake Activities, and Baked Oatmeal! That may not sound like much to you, but I find all of these things incredibly enticing.

I think of that list, though, my favorites are Flower Sunday and Oak Leaf Monday (a new addition). Allow me to explain:

You see, these days aren't solely devoted to flowers and oak leaves, although I wish they were. No, on these days we take a certain amount of time to give each other compliments. Everyone begins with one flower and every time you give someone a compliment, you give them your flower or oak leaf. Oak Leaf Monday is almost exactly the same, except for the obvious: you give leaves instead of flowers.

Now, I don't enjoy these days for same reason that others do. Some would assume I enjoy them because I get to hear people tell me how great I am. While I enjoy a compliment just as the next, I'd much rather give one. Too many compliments at once can overwhelm me, and often make me feel embarrassed. I always imagine I come off as somewhat of a snob when I receive commendation. People will commend me for one thong or another, and all I can say is a shy 'thank you...'. People seem to look at me and wonder why I don't say more, but the simple truth is that I'm so flabbergasted by their compliment that I don't know what else to say!

It is for this reason that I enjoy these events. I take pride when at the end I can say, "I gave all my flowers away." I love when I am left with no flowers, not that I never receive any, mind you. This year I received several more than usual. I also challenged myself and gave more than usual. The look on someone's face when I give them a flower is the only thanks I need.

Though I took pride in the joy I was able to spread, there were two compliments in particular that made my session, possibly even my entire year.

The first was when Cobalt gave me a flower (I'd already given him one of mine) and told me he was looking forward to my poetry. Wow! As a writer, that's one of the most encouraging things to hear, especially from someone much older. And, as noted in previous posts, I frequently feel my work is inadequate. Much love to Cobalt for making my day!

The second came from a man we like to call The Byzantine Empire (Biz-- hmm...how come we don't spell it Byz? Just a thought...) on Oak Leaf Monday. That night, Biz told me that he wanted to know me when I get older, that he wanted to be able to say "I know India", because he says I'm going places. Again, wow! Now, twice in two days? That's God working right there. I have a feeling that when I find myself doubting my abilities as a writer, I will look back on those two moments and say "Well Cobalt likes my poems" or "Biz said I was going places".

Maybe this all too much. Maybe I'm reading too far into this, but can you blame me? These guys have about ten years over me and they said I've got something special. You'd be high as a kite, too!

I'll be honest, it feels a little weird writing about Biz and Cobalt. And no doubt someone will stumble upon this and label it as nothing more than silly camper's crush. I assure you, it us not. Not even close. I think I've pretty much outgrown that part of camp...Pretty much.

But now I feel my awfully long story must draw to end.
I'm half sick of these ramblings, my lover, my friend.
-- Me

Twilight: A Mixed Bag

Okay, so recently (about five minutes ago) I read a blog on Xanga in which a young woman deatiled her reasons for hating Twilight. While I am not the rabid, Edward Cullen obsessed fan girl (I'm for team Jacob) that most usually associate with the series, neither am I immune to the bashing of this book.

While the girl had some good points, I felt she was a little harsh for having not even finished the book. I'll admit that Stephenie Meyer is not the best writer, not even coming close to modern geniuses like Libba Bray, Scott Westerfeld, and J.K. Rowling. I'll also admit that the relationship between Bella and Edward sickens me just a little bit (I shall elaborate later). But one thing I really can't stand is book bashing. While I feel that everyone is entitled to their opinion, I don't think it right for someone to state something as fact rather than what it is...just an opinion. Think about it, if you slaved away, working on a novel, attaching yourself to characters, wouldn't you be a just a little bit heartbroken when people tell you that your creation sucks? I would.

Y'know, the thing that disturbed me the most was the way that people decided not to read the book based entirely on one person's opinion. The girl wrote of thinking for yourself and not following the crowd, but then proceeded to tell readers what they should and should not read. Practice what you preach, hon.

But back to Twilight. As I've said before, it's not the best book. But in between waiting for HP7 and the next Holly Black book, it did the job. Honestly, there are much worse vampire books (in my opinion) than Twilight. Sure, reading about how gorgeous Edward is gets a little annoying, and sure Bella's complete lack of self-esteem and extreme naivete makes you want to slap her silly, but all in all I liked it. Although, I don't think I would have lasted this long without Jacob Black, the most gorgeous werewolf boy on the planet.

Anyway, I said all this to say: think for yourselves, people. And please, please stop the book bashing. Malice is not a good look on anyone.

Me and My Writing

Wow...so I guess it's been quite awhile since I last wrote something. Well, me being me I thought that I could be the best blogger in the history of bloggers.

Obviously I am not.

See, my problem is that I lack direction and motivation...or at least I lack the kind of direction and motivation needed to blog more than every few months. How Piscean of me, yes?

And it's not like this has never happened to me before. Take, for instance, my stories on both Quizilla and Ficlets. I'll have these amazingly wonderful ideas, beautiful bursts of creativity that come flowering out of my brain and blossoming from my fingertips, but I am unable to maintain that ardent love of my creation. I become bored with the story, and then tortured by the idea that it's not good enough. Gosh, I miss the days when I could simply pop a squat at my computer and write for hours on end. At that point in my life it was simply about fulfilling my need to make room in my head. I'm older and so is the world. Technology has allowed me and billions of other people to share their love of writing via Internet. Amazing, right?

Wrong.

Now, in addition to my short attention span and worries about my word choice, I have to wonder whether or not people will like it. And whether or not they'll read it, for that matter. I find the latter to be the worse of the two.

So, I said all that to say what? Well, essentially to say that I'm lazy and truly sorry to anyone who might have stumbled upon this rather poor excuse of a blog. In the future I shall try to be more regular in my updates, not for those of you reading this but for myself. Because, you couldn't care less about what I do. But I've made a promise to myself to less sporadic about certain areas of my life, and my writing happens to be one of them.

So, here's hoping for the less sporadic...and hopefully a post about something a bit more interesting by twelve o' clock tomorrow.