Ok, I'm going to be honest. A lot of times, I'm really bitchy. Sometimes, maybe even excessively bitchy.
This is not one of those times. This is one of those times where I am going to be justifiably bitchy. Read this entry with the knowledge that I have a semester-full of pent up aggression, and it's all coming out now.
People who know me from last summer know that I may be a little bit freakish about peanut allergies. I just don't think that anaphylactic shock is a fun thing. So when I went to a planning meeting about this overnight with beth, and they mentioned having the girls make their own snack mix, I warned them about getting things with peanuts. What's on the snack table when we show up? Honey-roasted peanuts and M&Ms. BOTH HAVE PEANUTS. Thanks for listening to me Girl Scout people. I understand though. I mean, my IQ is only 160, so I'm sure that I'm just not smart enough for my concerns to matter. Anyway, sure enough, we have a girl with peanut allergies, and what does the mom do? Come straight over to the snack table, which Beth and Molly and I are supervising, and bitch at us. Excuse me hooker face? Bitch at me. Recall from previous entries that I look like I'm 12. Why the hell are you yelling at me? Do I look like I'm in charge? I think not. Anyways, the Mom proceded to bitch at the Girl Scout office people, then pack her daughter out. Girl Scout hookers, I don't want to say that I told you so, but damn it, I did.
On a side note, how good of an idea is it to give kids this mixture of food before they go swimming? Probably not so good. And don't even get me started on the food mixing. Y'all know how I feel about that.
Next BRILLIANT idea courtesy of the geniuses at the Girl Scout office. We did this icebreaker activity where you paperclipped a paper plate to each girl's back and everyone went around and wrote stuff on it. I'll get to what I think about that in a minute. So what do they provide to write on the paper plates? SHARPIES! Dumbasses. That's just what we want, nine year olds having sharpie wars. Fuckers. You work with children. At WalMart they stock this wonderful invention. It's called WASHABLE MARKERS. They are good for situations where small children are likely to get marker on their clothes. Situations exactly like this one. As for the effectiveness of the icebreaker. While in general things of this function well as an activity, I think that their functionality depends on how well the group knows each other. Sure, when you don't know someone, you can write something nice about their hair or their clothes, but I personally do not agree with that type of 'appearance-based' focus, especially with pre-teen girls.
So we finished all that fun stuff, and we were going to go swimming. I'm just going to say that the locker-room brought out all of the OCD in me. Besides that, lets just say that if you don't know how to swim, the YWCA is not the place to go. The lifeguards there seemed a bit sub-par and were easily distracted, which put me on super-paranoia mode for the whole time. Matt, I know you read this sometimes, so this is directed at you. If Jen is going to teach you how to swim, don't let her do it there, cause if you start sinking, and she can't pull you up, I can't be sure that their guards are going to either.
Backtracking a little bit. Before the girls went swimming, they had to get dressed and everything. Where did the Girl Scout people have them put their clothes? Back in the room that we were staying in. That's right. So after we got them out of the pool, we had to lead a bunch of dripping, shivering girls all the way back to the room, where they got their clothes, all the while dripping all over the floor that they were going to sleep on and everyone else's stuff. Another brilliant one.
Then we had pizza, which was, by my standards, of sub-par quality at best. Note: It's probably not a good idea to give nine and ten year old children caffinated beverages at 10:30 at night. Probably not a good idea at all. Fucking morons. Furthermore, it's probably also not a good idea to give the same children like ten pieces of pizza each when their going to bed soon.
Then they wanted to do all this hair-doing shit. When they talked about this, I told them that I couldn't do it. I just can't. Reading a sheet is not going to make me learn. I know how to read, I do not know how to do hair. That's why my hair is always in a ponytail. I'm not a girly-whore. I don't know how to do girly-whore things. It was your program idea, how about you get your face away from the pizza box, and come over and give us a fucking hand, because like I told you, I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE HOW TO DO THIS.
But anyway, then we got the girls to lay down, and put on some Mary Kate and Ashley hellfire classic. Don't get me started with that. I went out into the hallway to caffiene-up (Thank God for diet coke.) and get ready to study.
I woke up the girls the next morning by singing. A fun time was had by all.
One more thing: Molly is a SAINT. A FREAKING SAINT. (I didn't feel right putting fuck in the same sentence as saint.)