Here is the second post that was written later today, because I had just that much time.

This was written at 1:54 PM on Monday, August 27, 2001.
[nevermind when it was posted, that’s just when I got a
chance to get on a computer.]

Alright, so, the computer is still sucking beyond belief, but my emotional level has been lowered from that of livid [as in the prior post] to mildly aggravated.
But, I thought now would be a fine & dandy time to describe my weekend.
Once upon a time there was a girl called Katie. Now, Katie had what she described as an enormous and very together-type of family. They went on vacations together [grandparents and step-cousins alike] and once a year, they would all go to an A’s game together. It was always the game that had the fireworks afterwards and they always had at the very least forty people there.
Well, one year [see: this one-2001], a lot of other people also decided to go to the A’s game. And, well, everyone knows that you can’t save seats at an A’s game, so, as it turned out, there were almost four people in our family sitting in the stone aisle. Now, Katie’s family is slightly confusing and has it’s share of controversial couples [see: interracial marriages and lesbian lifemates] and many counts of odd ways of relating to people. Imagine if you will just pointing out a person, any person in Katie’s family, and asking, “How are you related to her?” Well, the answer might be something as drawn out as, “Oh, she’s my aunt’s husband’s daughter from his first marriage’s child, Alexandria.”
As it turns out there was a guy there around my age. Relation: My aunt’s friend’s boyfriend’s son. He’s sixteen, one of the few time that there’s been a teenage guy at one of our family functions. I didn’t really talk to him at all, and I don’t remember his name [haha Gina]. He wasn’t all that attractive and I didn’t even officially meet him until the fireworks part of the evening. Why, then, did I even bring him up? Because this guy was like, creepy. Okay, so, the fireworks are about to start and I tell him, being the friendly person, “Hey, you may want to find a bigger area because you’ll probably want to lay down to watch the fireworks. Otherwise, you may never be able to move your neck again.” He takes this word to the wise as a come-on or something and says “Well, how about this spot ::gesturing to the spot right next to me::.” I think I said something to the extent of no, that’s probably not the best place, because that’s where my cousin wanted to sit. He then proceeded to sit down. This guy’s comprehension skills seriously need work done on them. So, I pretty much ignored him and then, as the fireworks started, I reclined [not fully laying down, just reclined a little.] Tout d’un coup, [just thought I’d teach you a little French. It means ‘all of a sudden’] he reaches over and f’ing puts his arm around me. Now, reality check, I am surrounded by family members. I mean, literally, my grandparents are a few blankets over and my parents and sister are sitting right behind me. I shrug him off and shoot him a look of “what-in-the-hell-do-you-think-you’re-doing?” And scoot closer to my cousin on the other side and lay down [using my mom’s foot as a pillow], figuring even Mr. Smooth over here can’t put his arm around me if I’m laying down. Instead, he follows my lead of laying down and scoots closer. He’s putting the moves on in front of his father and pretty much, my entire family. Throughout the entire fireworks show he like, hits me; nudging me with his elbow, because you know, that’s what turns the girls on. As soon as the fireworks ended [and it was a pretty good show] I stood up and tried to make myself invisible from this would-be Smooth Operator. Apparently, my cover was for shit because he comes up and leans on me. I just felt like screaming, “I don’t even know you. I just met you about seven minutes ago and I don’t want to know you any more in depth than the knowledge of who your father is. So get the fûk off of me!”
But I don’t think my grandma would have appreciated my use of vulgar language in public, so I just twitched until he moved his arm. Overall, it was just bizarre. I’m just glad he’s not in my family so I won’t have to continue running into him.

Okay, fast forward to Saturday. It’s my sister’s birthday, but it also happens to be the day of the surprise birthday party planned for my great uncle’s seventieth birthday [it was a marvel to me that he didn’t collapse from a heart attack when everyone yelled “SURPRISE!”] It was an okay event. I only knew about thirty of the seventy or so people that were packed in my grandparents’ house. My cousins and I just withdrew into the spare room and watched Bowfinger. I met my 92-year-old great-great-aunt. My younger cousin, Amanda, was convinced that the caterer was a pedophile and therefore microwaved herself a TV dinner. All in all, good fun.
Afterwards, I went to the movies with Gina again. We saw Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back. Hysterical movie. I loved all the references to the previous Kevin Smith movies [which, if you haven’t seen, go, now, to your newest video rental place and rent the essentials – which, in my opinion, are Mallrats and Chasing Amy.] By the by, he is not overrated, Jake. Anyway, it was a good movie; no plot whatsoever, but hilarity at its greatest [plus, I love Brodie.] We ran into a friend of mine from camp, Patrick [Gina, you’re “good” for recognizing him from the time we saw him on BART going to the Warped Tour].
Which brings me to the topic of camp. Camp is great. It is simply the best place on earth [I don’t care what Disneyland thinks.] The people are wonderful and the kids are…tolerable. Basically, it’s this day camp that is held in week-long sessions for kids going into kindergarten to sixth grade. I volunteer there as a Junior Counselor [JC] and have been doing so for the past three years. I went to the camp [Tenderfoot and Potowatomi, look ‘em up] when I was a kid and I plan to work there for another two or three years. As I said, it’s just great. I love the environment. It’s not just the nature, outdoorsy aspect, although that part’s great [there’s this great creek in the canyon and all these nice campsites], it’s everything about camp. When you’re there, it’s all you can think about. For that week, you’re whole life is immersed in this other world. You can be whoever you want to be, an entirely different person than you are throughout the rest of the year. Everyone who works there has a nature name. I’m Flicker [it’s a type of woodpecker.] To everyone, all of staff and all the campers, I’m Flicker for the entire Summer. I can be outgoing and goofy and not have to worry about my peers thinking I’m strange, because everyone else is acting just as wacky, if not moreso. It’s wonderful [I think I’ve used the word ‘great’ more in this paragraph than in all of my other posts put together.] I love it. That’s why I’m so looking forward to seeing all my camp folks tomorrow at Chuck-E-Cheese. For that time that I’m there, with them, all the memories and feelings I got from camp will come back to me, and that, in turn, brings about this sense of euphoria. Camp is like a drug; I honestly get this natural high from it. It’s pretty hard to explain to and to understand for someone who has never been or experienced my camp.
So, that’s all folks. Until my computer is either replaced or fixed [ha!] my posts will probably be cut down in number and frequency, so, don’t despair. I’ll be at school soon, so I can misuse those computers for my own personal use.