// warning: this post throws you straight at my life with little to no exlanation and and so I suggest you read through my archives before reading if you haven't already
Hey guys! I am writing this post from the shambly wifi connection of an even shamblier dorm... Where, you may ask, am I?
That's right, folks. I'm in Manhatten right now at my favorite camp o the year.
Already, on just the first day, I've made several friends and talked to old ones. There was a dance this evening, and I danced--very awkwardly-- with a group of about six people, all of whom were shoddier dancers than I was. We were having great fun until the fire alarm went off and all five hundred kids at the dance had to evacuate the building and sit out on the steps. The firemen actually came, and it was determined that some punk-ass kid hadn't pulled the fire alarm; there was an honest fire blazing in the Union.
Luckily they put it out before the firemen came and hauled themselves up on the roof with a ladder I'd only ever seen folded neatly on top the great red engine. Also, in Curious George books.
Then we sat over the fountain and played cards. This boy named Dennis had brought the cards. I met him last year at Discovery Days 2012 and we were well acquainted (this is for another post, but last year I played a two hour long game of Pterodactyl with him and another guy named Andrew. One gets lots of bonding experience with friends while playing Pterodactyl). We played a game called Liar that I'd learned at The Autumn Camp.
Then, we watched the fire department climb onto the roof. There's a certain beauty to firefighting that I'd never realized until tonight, and it's that firemen are the bravest men on the planet. I watched as this one fireman climbed the long, extended ladder, several feet over the nearest full-grown. Tree. The ladder swayed and creaked, but the fireman persisted.
"I love heights," said David, a tall, brown-haired senior had told me. "I'd love to do that."
I shivered and rubbed my shoulders, unable to watch. "I couldn't stand it." and then I shivered again for emphasis.
David laughed softly. "A lot of people say that."
"Well, they're right. Gosh, that guy up there is so brave." I'd said it as though I hadn't a clue that firemen were supposed to be brave, that written somewhere in some dusty archive it detailed bravery as a job requirement. David gave me a strange look, and it had slowly dawned on me then that I was a moron.
Then, when the firefighters had packed up and left, we went back inside to dance. From the speakers, "Shorty fire burning on the dance floor (somebody call 911)" was playing. Ironically.
Not even thirty minutes later, our extension agent came in to tell us we had to leave, because we were switching dorm rooms. Why? It smelled like a big sweaty man in the hallways and rooms, and both the floors and walls were soaking wet. I bid a hasty goodbye to my friends and came back to the dorm.
Gosh, it's soooo sketchy, this whole dorm building. People paint K-State as a whole being quite clean and a wonderful place for nurture meant and growth. I love this college more than anything else in Kansas, and yet I know that not all of K-State is beauty; there are hallways that smell like mildew/tube socks, and dances that get postponed due to fire alarms.
Despite this, I feel like I'm home.