Thursday, June 25, 2009


I am currently sitting in a campsite in the middle of the woods. Tomorrow will see the arrival of more than twenty teenagers to this site, to be corralled by myself and four other adults for the next few weeks. If the past few days are any indication, it will be an amazing time, and I will hardly miss you.

You might miss me, but I'm used to that. I'm trying to toughen you up for the future, kids. Life is hard. You can thank me later.

On a more positive note, because I'm in a great mood, enjoy your summer and I'll get around to your emails after camp.

Solitarily yours with mosquito bites,
Bitter Amanda

Sunday, June 21, 2009


Nom nom nom...

Camp can't start soon enough, because I CLEARLY need more to fill my time.

In case you missed them, our witnesses are horrified!!

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Final Countdown.

Day 28: Saturday
11am:Have grown accustomed to irritations in bathroom due to air freshener. Anxiety level still high, but slowly returning to normal. Now use restroom with face turned away from box, in case perfumed air pops out.
Pee. Hear hissing. Not normal hissing. Wait. Smell nothing. Hissing sounded pathetic. No odor? Is demon box conceding defeat?
2pm: Pee. Same sad hissing. LIGHTBULB. Evil contraption needs new cartridge. Emphatically refuse to do its bidding. Laugh as box sounds like fish out of water, gasping for breath, dying. Begging for clean linen life support. Feel no guilt.

Monday, June 15, 2009

I pointed, too.

I spent Friday night at the bar with some friends watching game 7. (I do not want to talk about it.) The whole bar was clad in red and white, cheering on our boys. In walks this couple, he in a bright green polo shirt (don't even ask if the collar was popped because you know it was) she in a bright pink tank top that allowed us a good look at her cleavage. They went up to the bar and ordered drinks, then remained there due to the prime location--right in front of the largest television in the place. She stood with her arms around him, back to the TV. He, clearly, stood with his eyes glued to the TV. She tried oh so hard to distract him, and he obliged her, as they were kissing and snuggling and all manner of things inappropriate for public. However, no matter how hard she tried--and this lady was putting in some serious effort--he would not yield and give her his undivided attention. He was all about the game. And I? Readers, I laughed out loud.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Opera glasses are stumping me.

The other night, after arriving home from cocktails with my sister, I was praising the bartender's gin and tonic abilities. He made a damn fine drink. (Or several. Whatever.) It was at this point that I captured the twin for a long chat. (She was a less-than-willing participant, but listened dutifully.) I began pontificating on the term "beer goggles." A fine term, if you ask me, certainly there is some grain of truth to it, but what of other beverages? Myself that evening, for example, I asked in my gin-soaked state. I wouldn't dare suggest that I was wearing "beer goggles." I hadn't been drinking beer! It just didn't make sense! Then, a proverbial lightbulb went off above my head.

"Amy!" I shouted, though she was quite near and is not hard of hearing. "It's GIN MONOCLE. That's what I'll call it! It makes it seem old-timey and I like the sound of it. Gin goggles sounds strange, and I don't like the way the hard g and soft g go together there. But monocle...that fits."

Twin approved. But what else? Beer goggles is defined on
Urban Dictionary as a "phenomenon in which one's consumption of alcohol makes physically unattractive persons appear beautiful." Alternative definitions suggest that the term does not only pertain to getting laid, but to impaired vision of some sort. Well, Twin decided, it seemed quite natural to suggest that the consumption of rum would give eyepatch. Rum eyepatch.
I shall spare you the details of our conversation, as it was complex and arguments got heated at times. However, allow me to share with you the fruits of our debate.

Tequila would give one x-ray specs.
Whiskey shades seemed appropriate.
Though not terribly common, I was adamant that drinking absinthe ought to lead to absinthe 3D glasses.

There are some things I'm still pondering. But I want your thoughts...think this over and get back to me!