Premature Celebration

So I had thought cancer would no longer play a significant role in my life anymore after my mom's treatment. I was dead wrong.

Today, my elementary school friend M- and I conversed for the first time in a long time. 7 years ago, we and two other friends were inseparable. Older classmates called us the Three Stooges and Larry. We played at recess, sang in the same choir, among other things we did together. Even though I moved after fifth grade, and Michigan elementaries last through sixth grade, they still included me in the Webster Class of 2006 group and I was invited to their reunion.

Through M-, I found out that one of the Three Stooges, I-, was diagnosed with brain cancer. He had been hospitalized about a month and a half ago, and they found a tumor just 15 days ago. Two weeks and he was gone. He's still on life support but he's already entered a vegetative state, and his parents gave the okay to pull the plug, and are making adjustments to their lives as if he's passed. As much as Hollywood makes miracles look like everyday happenings, it's looking grim. Rest in peace, Ian. You were one of the nicest people I knew then, and that 7 years have passed that we've scarcely maintained contact yet I still feel this overwhelming shock and grief is a true testament to the strength of the friendship we had.

http://www.schrader-howell.com/sitemaker/sites/Schrad1/obit.cgi?user_id=784467

It puts a lot of things in perspective. There are so many people whose existence I honestly take for granted. I don't keep in touch with them nearly enough, but I would be devastated should something happen to them. It makes me think about whether I'd die happy if I, like Ian, were to go before 20. Death and mortality has not been such a personal reality since my grandmother's passing, and at the time I was too young to really introspect after the tsunami of sorrow was over. I certainly feel far more mature compared to my 4th or 5th grade self back then.

Cancer-Free!

My mom is cancer-free! Her surgery was a few days ago, and the cancer cells have all been removed as of Tuesday!

The day before college begins

NSO starts tomorrow.

My dad flew home today. No tears were shed in a sentimental goodbye.

(In the meantime, my sister made my mom cry by complaining about not being able to go souvenir shopping ceaselessly after she drove over 250 miles in back to back days and was exhausted.)


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I don't know what to feel right now. I'm not nervous. I'm not anxious. I'm pretty excited, but not bouncing off the wall excited.

I just have this nagging feeling that I forgot something back in Washington. Not something tangible though, not a belonging I needed to bring to my dorm or anything. I guess I just feel like I left a lot of loose strings in the various storylines of my life back in Washington.

My mom is pissing me off.

My mom holds literally everything against me. She is so full of contradictions and so devoid of sense. Let's see what accusations I've received recently.

• My sister goes out and parties too much with her friends, therefore it becomes my sole responsibility to care for her because nobody else will. Way to address the root of the problem!
• My mom tells me that she doesn't want me attending her breast cancer examinations because, after all, it's breast cancer and that gets awkward. Then, she says I'm heartless and impatient because I never go with her to examinations and help her translate what the doctors say.
• My mom tells me that she doesn't want to get involved with college stuff (applications, housing, meal plans, move-in stuff, basically all the orientation things) because there's too much English, and that she trusts I can handle it. Then, she says she feels hurt that I keep shutting her out of college information, and she feels unwelcome and not knowledgeable when she talks to other parents at any admit receptions/sendoff parties.
• I've finally turned 18, and therefore it is my responsibility to become more independent (with planning my own activities, chores, work, etc.). Oh wait! How dare I not inform her of every little detail in my life?? She didn't raise me 18 full years just so I can sever family ties. I'm still her baby, and she has every right to know who I talk to, what I read and do.
• When I do tell my mom something, she then proceeds to forget within the next five minutes. Then she'll ask me again, and forget again. If she asks some three or four times, I'll tell her, I've told you before. Then she'll condescendingly question--is this how you're treating me when I'm in my mid-40s? I can't imagine how bad you'll be when my memory's even worse later on. How hard is it to just repeat it once more? Believe it or not, just because you've forgotten something I've told you, doesn't make me in the wrong for not telling you. Sure you can't really be blamed for forgetting, I understand it's a biological thing that comes with aging, but I sure as hell am not intentionally disrespecting you, nor in the wrong for being annoyed at repeating something as many as eight or nine times.

Whenever my mom talks to me, she is always card stacking. Always. I do almost all the chores because my sister doesn't, act as a liaison or translator between my mom and school administrators and teachers, cashiers at the grocery store, handymen for car maintenance, and pretty much fucking everything. I've must've moved tens of thousands of pounds of groceries, and helped her lug the 40ish-lb vacuum cleaner up an down the stairs hundreds of times.

And the worst part is, I don't even try to point out how wrong she is when she berates me for all this shit. She'd just say I have no right to point out her mistakes because she's my mom. I just sit and listen to her hurl these accusations. Today, she got mad at me for looking angry when she's talking to me. Am I not allowed to look angry?

When I was like 7, my 2nd grade teacher was trying to explain the difference between house and home. She said that house is just a physical object, but home implies an associated feeling of comfort. Seeing those "Welcome home" signs in pictures of past Stanford NSOs makes me think: I'm so damn glad I'm leaving for college soon, because that's where home is. It's kind of silly how teachers try to teach little kids that with the word "family" carries implied feelings of affection and love. The last two years of my life have really proven otherwise.

Reflections on Camp Killoqua

In a nutshell: I really really liked Camp Killoqua, and it's definitely very high on my list of places to work next summer.

But I tried to delve into the reasons that made me enjoy it so much. I've come up with a couple of possibilities.

First, everything that happens there constitutes to a sense of family. Obviously, after spending a full week with the same people from morning to night, you get to know them pretty well. But a lot of other things too. At meals, the head of the table serves you food and the foot of the table serves you drinks. You don't sit with the same people every meal, but between serving food, watching for the seconds box, passing dirty plates, and the conversations that take place, there is enough interaction that you feel pretty tight with those people by the end of the meal, and for the rest of the week you'll greet them passing by on campgrounds. That's definitely something that's missing from my life.

Second, I love the whole deal with the singing. Singing graces before a meal, teaching songs after a meal, singing before leaving the table, and, most of all, serenade, where the counselors and CITs go around to each cabin group and sing the campers to sleep. It's an interesting dynamic that's created. Flipping through the songbook that Frog gave me, some of the songs are quite morbid. My personal favorite (and also wildly popular among many of the campgoers and counselors) is Char's Song, and it was adapted from a military farewell song. There's one line that goes "some of us, I know, are bound to die." In this sense, Killoqua felt quite raw and transparent--there was no beating around the bush when it comes to sad matters. Many of the songs use lyrics along the lines of "this is goodnight and not goodbye" with a camp-is-ending-but-not-the-friendship notion. It's humbling and down-to-earth, and definitely a bit melancholy. Even so, there is just so much joy. And being surrounded by people who smile in the face of sadness makes me that much stronger and capable of enjoying myself in spite of (what I perceive as) shit in my life. I can really appreciate what I have.

Third, it is so easy to fit in there. The traditions are easy enough to pick up, and typical barriers to interpersonal interaction are nonexistent. While I was there, there were some 5 or 6 foreign counselors (hailing from Great Britain, Ireland, and New Zealand) as well as maybe 6 states represented. Furthermore, the ages of the counselors ranged from 18 to 40. Yet, even the 8-year-old campers got along with the adults as if they've been childhood friends from years. The camp names tradition is wonderful: all counselors and CITs get a camp name, an alias they go by among each other and the campers. In fact, some of the counselors don't even know the real names of the other counselors. I really liked this because you could see some of the traits or personality of the person reflected in their name, and, as far as I can tell, made everyone more comfortable and open in this new identity. Whatever the hiring process is there, it works, because the counselors are all crazy and fun yet (for the most part) responsible, and when you get a lot of people who are willing to be crazy in public, everyone else who wants to be crazy (aka be themselves) but normally subdues it will be crazy too!

All in all, I had a great time there, and I'm planning on applying for a job there next summer. I don't know what opportunities college will open up, but I can certainly see myself passing up jobs with better pay to work there because it's just a relaxing, carefree environment.

Conversation

It's almost scary how there are certain people I can just talk, and talk, and talk, and talk to, and it never gets dull and I never run out of laughter and we shift from one topic to the next with ease, and it's just relaxing and comfortable even if the topics of our conversation are less than pleasant.

Went to the park in the morning and read a humorous though often confusing book for a while. Then I was joined in the afternoon by K- and we talked about a lot of the people we've met recently and how amazing they are over some light picnicking food, which I think made me look bad because the spaghetti I cooked had cooled and I was gloating about my amazing spaghetti cooking before I realized that heh. I wish we could've chatted more because she's going to China and then I'll have college and that'll suck because talking to her is so damn enjoyable. Then I walked four miles because I forgot to bring money on me and the school bus passes don't work anymore. I was kind of singing as I walked, but after around 200 minutes of conversation I was losing my voice. So maybe not about the chatting more, but maybe like lie in the grass and look at clouds or something.

Tomorrow, I start work, and I'll feel very much like an adult; 9 hour workdays for five days straight, then overnight days for six days straight. I kind of have this voice in the back of my head telling me today was the last day of my childhood. As far as legal definitions are concerned, I'm an adult in less than a month. I'm definitely not complaining about today, and of course as D- told me (in a rough paraphrase) last time I brought up how we're going to be adults soon, youthfulness isn't defined by age unless you let it be. I was surprised by such wise words from his mouth, of course, but I liked that sentiment.

Long story short, I'm pretty sure this was hands down my day best spent all summer.

(except with more overcast skies, cause like, it's Seattle.)

Alegrias

"Everyone wants to be the sun that lights up your life. But I'd rather be your moon, so I can shine on you during your darkest hour when your sun isn't around."

I like this quote, I don't know who it's by.

Source: www.alegrias.me

I also like this image: