1 August 2011

Counting down the days, hours, minutes 'till I am finished with this mind-numbing NYC summer camp adventure. No words could possibly adequately sum up the last four weeks.... but currently I am actually hiding from the wining, spoiled, nasty little teenagers that seek me out, to complain (yet again) about everything under the sun – from toilet paper, to scheduling, to having to walk more than two blocks, to the food, the lack of tennis courts, Hilton hotel service or a dinner hour they find acceptable, to wondering why I can't get their cell phone back – that they think they may have left on Broadway... or perhaps in the taxi... or could just be somewhere on campus... oh, and this happened four days ago... really? “Honey, why don't you try Ebay?” …. What? You don't find the humor in that? Such a shame... we all do.

Everywhere I turn I get bombarded by ridiculous requests and complaints. They steal toilet paper, have sex in showers, demand to go to 5th avenue and shop EVERY DAY, constantly defy curfew, stay at us indignantly, ditch class, saunter in an hour and a half late (thank god I'm not the one teaching them), come to me with bullshit excuses as to why they missed their classes – lie through teenage teeth I see right through – and so I smile and refuse them what they want most in this wold... the next days Abercrombie Fitch shopping extravaganza. They hate to sightsee, exude any energy whatsoever that doesn't involve shopping or breaking lights in the hallway from kicking the ball against the walls as hard as they can... They stare blankly at you when you ask them to do anything, they write in the elevator with sharpie markers they have stolen from the office, they get lost in the city - in defiance of staying in a group, they push buttons and boundaries and yes... I am aware this is the world's revenge for being such a god AWFUL teenager myself. I AM SORRY!

Not all of them are so bad... or WERE so bad. First few weeks we had some truly enthusiastic kids; creative, energetic, excited to learn and not too bad to deal with except for the random mishap involving one or two police officers, and an incident with two girls, a boy and one blanket on the football field at 2am. Besides that, groups had group leaders that accompanied them and were pretty good at keeping them under control. There were a few that I adored – little Russian bad-asses and suave Italian teenage heart breakers. We played, laughed, had dance parties on buses and collectively complained about the contrasting hot and cold... Now, we are group leaderless, understaffed, and swarming with unruly, incredibly DULL, Germans. Tomorrow I tell them that we are moving campus, with one week to go – yes, the organization from the Scotland is an entirely other rant... all I have to say is; Who signs a contract that ends on the 6th when you already have over 40 kids still in NYC until the 13th? Seriously? And that's really just the tip of the iceberg, and that baby goes deep!

I even think my darling activity manager finally had it this evening – and he has been mister nice guy since the very beginning – playing a game of cop, bad cop... a roll I am so NOT enjoying partaking in, but must say, I play a really good bitch. (Shocking, I know). I go through various emotions: from being beyond frustrated, to throwing my hands in the air in desperation, to indifference, to embracing my fate and trying to roll with the punches the best I can and just thank god I don't have to do this for much longer. Although I must say, four weeks feels a bit like four months. I know in retrospect, I will most likely look back on this summer and laugh – and the comedy in that is outrageous! I know I should be out there right now, making sure nobody is burning holes in the carpet or stealing laundry from the dryer... but really... I just CAN'T do it! I don't think any of us can – as I'm pretty sure we're all camped out in our respected rooms, hiding from the monsters that we must put up with all day long. Hahaha! Oh well. I find comfort in the third storm today, rolling in in the distance, to my sporadic outings into the city when I get to people watch in Harlem, eat at amazing vegan restaurants in the Village, stroll through Central Park, go to Broadway plays, free concerts, and yes... shop in all the five boroughs of NYC. Hmmm... what is that I hear? Balls being violently banged against walls in the hallway? No... it's quiet... sweet Jesus, that's the most frightening of all – for as my mother always said – when there are quiet teenagers, there are troublesome teenagers... was that my mother? Or just something I remember from being a sneaky, conspiring trouble maker myself? Doesn't matter... I know someone's up to no good. Hmmm, well, as long as everybody makes it with all their limbs in tacked, that's really all one can hope for that this point. Don't know about anybody else, but it's time for this girl to tuck herself in and listen to the sweet sound of thunder and semi horns as they drive over the bridge above my head, sending me to happy highway sleepy land. :-)