Summer Rewind

I won't try and justify my lack of writing this summer, even if I was exceptionally busy. But although I did not take the time to chat about all I was up to, don't sit there and believe I didn't have much to say. It was an interesting summer to say the least: a hodgepodge of work-related chaos and athletic endeavors.

So let's get straight to it... welcome to my Summer Rewind.

Working Hard or Hardly Working.

The moment I found out I wasn't going to be a part of the BU Summer Staff I went crazy looking for work, and boy did I find some. This summer I was a full time counselor for Camp Discovery and a part time cashier at Barnes and Noble, so I averaged about 60 hours of work a week. Perhaps the greatest (sarcasm) time I had this summer was the notorious 72 hour work week... or maybe it was the 17 day streak of work without a day off. Regardless, I was busy. Always. And tired. Always. But it made the summer fly by, and I felt accomplished, even if camp was the nail in the coffin as to whether or not I want children. I'm kidding. Sort of.

Books, Books, and more.... Books.

Yeah, be jealous. I got to work at Barnes and Noble.

Really though, don't be too jealous.

Since I was 16 I have wanted to work in a book store, imagining what it would be like to be surrounded by some of the greatest works of all time as I earned money for selling them. The dream sort of faded when I endured my first eight-hour Saturday shift.

There really isn't much to say about B&N. It was just an easy job with some very nice coworkers. It was my first time working in retail and I found that my people-skills came in handy. I got a lot of compliments for being cheerful, kind and charismatic; I even had one woman offer me a job at her office, though I turned it down (nicely). My friends reading this are probably laughing, wondering why I don't incorporate those characteristics into my daily life with them. Sorry guys, I save courteous Kedzie for parents and customer service!

I joke, of course.

Beware: Attack Chipmunk on patrol.

This is where the bulk of my summer took place: camp.

Way back in June I went through a rigorous 25 hour training session covering all the basics of how to be a great (and safe) counselor. Apparently Camp Discovery is accredited by the American Camping Association, earning a spot in the measly 25% of camps nation wide who are good enough to do so, meaning we counselors had a lot to live up to. Now, I would never have guessed we were so well known and so highly esteemed- it's a day camp run through my town's recreation department, but apparently we're that good.

At the end of training every counselor was given a note-card with a name of an animal on it which signified the group of campers we would be working with throughout the summer. Lucky me, I opened my card to find the word "Chipmunk" written in black pen. The card should have been accompanied with a message reading: "good luck."

But wait! Chipmunks are cute little animals. How on Earth could they strike fear into the hearts of college students? I'll tell you how.

Camp Discovery is broken down by ages, ranging from five to 11 / 12 years old. Each group is named after an animal: Chipmunks, Gophers, Foxes, Wolves, Bobcats, Eagles, Bears. That's right... chipmunks meant I was blessed (haha) with the opportunity to work with five and six year-olds. About 25 of them each week for eight weeks.

I have to be honest, the camp actually turned out to be a lot of fun, even if it was rolled into a giant mess of terror and frustration. The Chipmunks group had two other counselors aside from myself: good friends of mine named Emily and Erika. With a little practice, the three of us became pros at controlling our little monsters, growing close bonds with the ones who stayed the entire summer.

The best part of camp, no doubt, had to be the stories we went home with. Even on days when I went to camp from 6:30 to 4:30, then had Barnes and Noble 6:00 to 11:00, I was still able to sit down at the end of the night, bandage my wounds (literally) and laugh about the ridiculous things my kids went through each and every day.

There was D-Dubs, Ms. Fox, The "Pussy[cat] Doll," Little Alex, Billy, Fuz-deen, Trevor the Terror, AaaayyyyJaaaaaaay and so many others, and although I have hundreds of stories to fill this blog, I'll center my focus around one camper who made life interesting every week. We called her Mumz. Other counselors called her the Spawn of Satan. But whatever we called her, she couldn't have cared less because she was a girl on a mission. What that mission was we still don't know.

Picture a small, gangly blonde who, at first sight, is absolutely adorable. Now picture that angelic face twisting and contorting into a menacing grimace of doom. That is Mumz in a nutshell. This sweet little girl could start as a pleasant child chatting about her new kitten and wind up a demonic beast, laughingly maniacally in about two seconds flat. But putting her dual-personalities aside, she was by far the camper who provided us with the most laughs.

The first day at the pool we spotted her gnawing away at her fruit rollup, having eaten two-thirds of it with the plastic still attached. Later in the summer she was also the girl who, "because green's her favorite," licked, chewed and ate a green marker (that same day, followed up her awesome behavior by yet again, attempting to eat her rollup in the plastic). We were forced to call her mother one afternoon after a boy approached her and said, "I love you," to which she responded, "Then KISS ME!" When the boy didn't do as she said, she grabbed his face and kissed him herself.

With all the horror stories in the past, I can truly look back at camp and say it wasn't too bad. So what what if I ripped my hand on a broken dunk tank? So what if there was a Swine Flu scare? I teared up when my favorite camper left... and that means something. That means I actually, down deep, enjoyed my job at Camp Discovery. Might I add that the sign she made me on the last day is currently hanging in my dorm room.

Paint the Lines.

Even with my hectic work schedule, I made sure that this was the summer where I actually went out and competed in some new athletic venues. With BU Track no longer preventing my involvement in club and intramural sports, I felt that this summer I could do more than just go running every day. So, I entered myself in a tennis tournament and a beach volleyball tournament!

Tennis, as most of my friends know, is a sport I absolutely love. But with soccer and track being my focus throughout high school, I was never able to branch out and try other things. This summer I put an end to that and went head-first into the Earl Yost Tennis Classic in Manchester, CT.
I have played tennis for awhile now, and my game has improved exponentially. Tennis will always be the sport I consider to be the most frustrating because of the ups and downs I experience in my game. At my peak condition, my game has all the pieces I need to make me a good player- my specialties being a huge backhand both cross-court and down the line and an arsenal of different serve types. But so often I find myself falling into slumps, dumping forehands into the net, misjudging ball speed and crumbling under a inconsistent serve percentage.

Leading up to the tournament I went into extreme training, playing as many people as I could. My greatest moment had to be my final match before the first round, where for the first time in my life I triumphed over a good friend of mine, former captain of the high school tennis team, in straight sets.

But when I arrived at the Tennis Classic I found myself overwhelmed by the new atmosphere. I had never taken part in an actual competitive tennis tournament, and my nerves were showing. In my opening round match-up I faced a tennis player with tremendous skill. All my gears were in motion and the first game of his serve entered multiple deuces, and though he held serve, it looked as though the match would be one for the records. But it wasn't.

I panicked. I wanted rallies to be short and powerful, but my opponent had tremendous court-coverage and a forehand that shattered my own. I did my best to hold steady, but when my best backhand shot of the match bounced off the edge of his racket and down upon my court, I knew it just wasn't my day to win.

After the match, I was semi relieved to be off the court. But at the same time I was happy because I had finally done something I had wanted to do for years, and you can expect to hear about my future adventures into tennis tournaments.

Here Comes the Boom!

Maybe my favorite activity of the entire summer (not including my weekend getaway with my family to Block Island) was the beach volleyball tournament I organized and competed in with my best friend, Stephanie Caraballo.

Steph and I have been good friends since sixth grade, but never do we click more than when we're side by side on a sand court. After a clean-sweep of the 3 qualifying-round matches, Steph and I entered the win-or-die semi-finals, dead-set on winning the medals awarded to first and second place teams.

Steph played volleyball in high school and was always a great player, though her true skills are more obvious in a beach volleyball setting rather than indoors (but she is the high school's record holder for most digs in one game). Whereas I have always played the sport for fun, though I've gotten much more consistent and powerful over the last year. Both of us, though not Olympic-champion standards, are good, and when put together, even better.

After a straight-set win in the semifinals, Steph and I moved into the championship match with our eyes set on gold, and man did we fight for it. We dug and absorbed the heat being thrashed at us by our opponents, bumped and set accurately and crushed kills into the sand. We've never played so well, and after a long, 3-set match, we lost by a mere 3 points, earning second place in the first ever VolleyBrawl tournament.


We had a blast together, as usual, and are excited for next year.

~ ~ ~

That's basically my summer in spark-note version. Of course there were also my trips to the gym, a few beach days, and AN EPIC week in Maine once work was all said and done, but I can't sit here and bore you with all the specifics of my ever-exciting life.

I'm back at school now, having a blast as I readjust to life in Boston. Look forward to more blogs as the year unfolds.