High Hopes

If someone had told me that I would be labeling my clothes at the age of 18, I wouldn’t have believed him… but here I am, sharpie in hand, autographing my underwear.  I would’ve just ignored this requirement if I hadn’t been explicitly told that any unlabeled clothes would not be accepted for laundry, and I guess I’m not prepared to lug a month’s worth of socks with me.

In four days, I’m heading to NYSC—the National Youth Science Camp—to be one of 100 (or so) science nerds invited to spend four weeks in the wilderness of West Virginia at Camp Pocahontas.  Here, along with attending seminars and workshops, we will have the opportunity to go caving, backpacking, kayaking, and, well, I don’t really know what else, since the staff (“staph”?) are keeping it a surprise.

So why am I not excited?  I love science, and I love outdoors activities.

But…

All that cheesiness… “Staph”?  Really?  That’s just one example.  Everything these “staph” members say (both to answer questions and in camp information such as packing lists) oozes cheeriness.  When a future camp-mate asks whether we can head to breakfast whenever we wake up, they answer that we all dine together “to enjoy everyone’s good company”.  You know, we can easily discern false friendliness.

Furthermore, after CTY, my standards for camp may be a tad nontraditional…

Well, I don’t want to start on a bad note, so I’ll quietly label my clothes and pack my suitcases and channel my high hopes (and check my low expectations).

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