"You look like Career Doll Barbie!" "Oh sweet heavens, I do."

Today at breakfast we discussed beta testing, submarines, the mail system and the Musad. And then we ended up with watching a video of a dancing parrot. I love my family. :D

The end-of-year has officially come for (most) of our activities. Brownies and Guides ended with a camp on the weekend, and Dance ended with The Show over the past five days. (If I could make that sparkly, I would. It's Just. That. Big. They sell out the Arts And Culture Centre for three days. Ahem.) Now Cadets, which the Walrus is involved in, ends with a dance on Friday, which the Walrus may or may not attend. The jury is still out.

I was in dance class for four and a half years, and involved in the show for five, but I'd never actually been in the audience on a performance night. This year I was, and I was very proud. *proud smile* Fraulein and Slonner were in a total of six dances, (the best ones.) I've now been inspired to get back into dance, if I can scare up the cash and transportation. The show its self was epic, of course. The theme was Variations: Deja Vu, and they did repeats of the best dances over the last 11 years. That sounds rather feeble, but then you realize these were all excellent dances in the first place, in addition to the fact that much of the audience was looking forward to seeing their old favorite dances again. It was very good. Too bad you missed it. *shakes head*

My sister just walked into my room and shaved green glitter onto my head. This should probably disconcert me more than it does. My response? Let's watch trailers on itunes! Something is wrong with me.

Anyhow! Let's talk about camp! This was the first Camp I've gone to as a leader, and it was slightly different from the other side. For one thing, sleep seemed so much more important? Some how, when you're a camper it seems fun to avoid sleep. When you're a leader you're more trying to avoid falling asleep on the lunch table. Also, limp french fries are less thrilling than actual salad with croutons and everything. This is a mysterious transformation, I wonder what could cause it? :D

At breakfast the first day I was clutching a mug of weak, burnt coffee like the ambrosia it was, and one of the Brownies inquired as to whether she could have some coffee. Given that this eight-year-old girl never seems to suffer from a lack of energy, my answer was decidedly in the negative. "Why?" was the predicable response. "Because I'm an adult," I responded- as predictably. The little Brownie, who by then had acquired a posse of interested followers, proceeded to inform me that I was not an adult. Cue blinking from Snazel. Oh, wait, this happens some times, they think because I am not a teacher or someone's mom, I must still be in high school. "No, I am an adult, I'm 20," I reply and drink more coffee. This isn't good enough, according to the children. I'm not an adult because I don't have a boyfriend. This is- not an objection I've had to deal with before. I throw out something about not having to have a boyfriend to be an adult. Brown Owl doesn't have a boyfriend, and she's an adult! Shaking of heads from the Brownies. Brown Owl is a teacher, therefore my argument is invalid. Ulp. Furthermore! They all have boyfriends, why don't I? Wait, the seven, six and eight year-olds all have boyfriends? Yep, even the kindergartners have boyfriends. Cue disapproving looks from the Brownies. This is clearly an epic fail on my part. But I am not defeated! I go on the attack! My next question; do their boyfriends buy them things? No? Well, they aren't much of boyfriends, are they now? The Brownies giggle madly about this, and I escape to get more coffee. Just another morning conversation with small girls!

The Camp was in a really lovely place, though. I should go back with a camera and less Brownies to control (which is approximately on the same level as herding cats) and take pictures. And I had a good time, though I wasn't sad to go come and collapse into an unconcious heap.