Update

Dear Diary,

I really have to stop bestowing promises upon your gullible, impressionable minds since now I feel coerced to write about my trip to Poland then Germany. Briefly, Poland was an incredible trip which opened our eyes to the history and the devastation our nation endured. In a grammatical context, the word 'and' can either be a conjunction that connects two independent clauses or a word that groups together similar 'things': I used the latter in the previous sentence when talking about 'history' and 'devastation'. I find it ridiculous how the two are so highly correlated and how it is even plausible to commit such rhetorical accuracy. Why do I envision the past with destruction and see these proponents flowing in harmony down the pond of history? For those of you who are not aware, I went to Poland to visit the concentration camps and to witness the ruins of the grounds where the largest mass murder occurred. 

Following Poland I, ironically, went to Germany where the devastation began. There, I furthered my touring and learned the Holocaust from the attackers point of view. The underlying point of view paralleled the common notion that what the Germans did was awful, but the tours also stressed the harsh conditions German civilians were living under too. Despite its prowess, Germany was no oasis in Europe during her reign of terror. Destruction soared throughout the country and those who fervently opposed the war suffered too. 

The two trips juxtaposed were informative, but as expected when I returned from Germany I needed a darn vacation. I was tired, angry, hungry, thirsty, dead, dumb, ugly,... I was running on minimal sleep for the past two weeks and I just wanted to lie in my bed and cry. Well after a good night sleep I was happy, smart, and handsome again so I was back to my normal self. It should be noted that on the trip to Germany, I finished the longest book EVER: Atlas Shrugged. I really think this book should be a mandatory reading for high school students. This changed my life more than any history lesson or Mark Twain novel. Although I skipped about 50 pages, this knowledge this book grants should be appreciated by everyone.

Ah yes I graduated. Shockingly, I passed my statistics class. Unshockingly, I averaged a 72. The days leading up to graduation were replete with gray clouds hovering upon our emotions, but like most things in life, the anticipation is worse. Graduation and moving on is simply weeding at those who you were never friends while retaining those who are special to you. Although I no longer talk to those friend on a day to day basis, we can text after days without speaking and pick off like we are back in the 10th grade after an intense game of basketball. (yes.shockingly, i played basketball) 

The week after graduation is somewhat of a blur. When trying to connects the dots between graduation and camp, I cannot visualize anything. In fact, lately I haven't been able to recall anything. Crap, do you think it is bad if I am suffering from Alzheimer at the age of 18?

Anyway, this summer I have been working at a day camp as a counselor. This day camp is affiliated with my school, which consequently means the school has some jurisdiction over camp policies. The camp is recognized as a 'Jewish Day Camp', but there is a wide spectrum of religious beliefs ranging from Catholic to Orthodox Jews. The bulk of the camp however are non-observant Jews who only proclaim they are Jewish because either they know a few Hebrew words or because they fast on Yom Kippur. Despite the mixed backgrounds, my Orthodox schools mandates a daily prayer. Although the counselors too are not religious, we are supposed to sing and captivate the kids and so much to my mother's chagrin, this summer was the most I have Prayed since the 7th grade.

 

Unfortunately, during orientation the staff delivering the programs admonished writing about campers in a blog, so I won't be able to tell you stories about the 'fat kid' or the 'suicidal kid'...yaaaa sorry to disappoint you parents but unfortunately we counselors do label your children. How else are we suppose to survive the summer and talk about our campers? Just bear in mind that is all out of love. and tips.

Ironically, the best summer I had was when my father wasn't spending money on me. Most of my school friends either worked with me at the camp or worked at a neighboring camp and were home. The summer extended the binding between me and my friends since the day to day connection was augmented into the summer. Further, I became very good friends with my co-counselor and a counselor from another bunk. For some mystical reason, summer friendships have the potential to become just as deep as those friendships created during the school year.

Camp ended, I was paid, then the family went on a cruise. The cruise was nice since it isolated the family and..well forced us all to hang out. Thinking about it, a cruise is my worst nightmare. No computer, no cell phone, no privacy. Well the cruise was definitely necessary since I was leaving for Israel the following week and my sister was likewise leaving for college. There are too many distractions at home for proper family time, so cruise is the in essence the perfect getaway. Well to kick off the family vacation, Sammy opened up with his rendition of throwing up. We all thought his nausea was from sea sickness but when we docked and his throw-up continued, we later discovered it was indeed a stomach virus. Because we originally suspected Sammy was sea sick and because my E.N.T father did a fabulous job diagnosing him, I felt free to share his beverages and food without abandon. 

 

Now, I'm in Israel. The three weeks I have been here feels like three months. Does the quote “time flies when you are having fun” apply in the converse? Dorm life was a tough adjustment considering I am limited to scarce closet space and thus shoved piles of clothes into the tiniest cracks in my closet. At first there was some semblance to the organization of my clothing such as the pants with the shorts and and sweatshirts with the sweatpants, but despite how ambitious I was to maintain such order, I am now finding my shorts with my winter clothes and boxers with my winter clothes.

Although time is moving with a weight attached to its waist, I really am enjoying my time here. There is a lot of learning but the nights are certainly rewarding. I am becoming good friends with lots of people here and since I now have a routine and am settled time will fly by. Expect more blogs from Israel! 

Lata

By the way, I started writing this blog post in May and then when I would continue writing a week later, there was something else to write about.

Toodles

Dear Diary, 

Surprise! ya, it has been a while. Most of you were informed of my decision to abate the blog postings, and others probably thought I was murdered in Auschwitz. Nope! I am indeed alive and well. Well, yes, unfortunately I will be posting less often. This blog was initially created with the intention to fulfill my enjoyment. This was a source of procrastination from the textbooks, but lately I have been looking for a distraction from writing. You people put too much pressure on an innocent seventeen year old, and he has been suffocating under the piles of complaints from you guys: "Andrew I didn't really like your last blog" or "Andrew you haven't been posting lately. WHY?!" 

I felt that I have been spoiling you guys lately and will be rewinding back to my original intentions for this blog. Though, you guys are not entirely to blame. This blog was also made with intention to be recognized. I wanted to--eventually--monetize this blog and hope Penn and WashU be like "damm we should've accepted this kid". Delusions of Grandeur  my parents call my nonsense, and I can attest to these delusions never being accomplished. 

At first I resolved on dropping this phenomenon entirely, but after seeing the tears from my viewers, I adjusted to a compromise: the aforementioned plan. Jokes aside, I was really considering leaving this piece of my life behind, but people  have been complimenting my writing and I think this is a great platform to enhance and maintain my penchant towards writing. Last night I was at a friends to celebrate my school's baseball team championship game victory. When I was walking out of the house, I saw his mother in the office so being the gentleman I am, I walked inside the room and both congratulated her for her child's victory and thanked her for hosting me. We continued to talk and as I was leaving she asked for my blog address. I was stunned. "You know about my blog?" I asked. (Keep in mind, that I never publicized my blog.) She told me the latest one she read and how much she enjoyed reading my blogs. She profusely complemented my writing, and her brief words inspired me to continue this blog.

My initial contingent of writing less frequently remains, but I will certainly be posting. Expect an update of Poland, Graduation, and everything soon.

P.S. My postings will be erratically, so I cannot promise a date. That means my hit counter will go up. yay.  

To Allie & Rachel

Dear Diary,

Hello People!

Firstly, I would like to begin with an apology. People have been telling me how their weeks were encompassed by distraught without the satisfaction of my blog. They told me they went through a state of utter depression and checked back minutely only to be disappointed by last week's blog. I hope that all those effected can recover and recognize that an absence of blogging for a week does not reflect how I may feel about you. I hope my love for you may fill that gap I regretfully engraved in your hearts. Be well!

Let's begin!

A while ago my family went on our annual trip to Miami and enjoyed a beautiful two weeks by the pool. My sister returned from Israel with the a skirt down to her toes, a turtle neck covering her fingers, and after the hug and the "OMG I MISSED U" mushy gushy stuff that I can't bear, I asked her how she enjoyed being home. "Andrew, America isn't our home. Israel is." She responded.  I do feel an obligation to say "IM JOKING" to the description to avoid the comments "OMG IS SHE PRREGO?!?" No she was not wearing the aforementioned skirt or turtle neck and is certainly not pregnant, but I did notice  her checking out some religious, black-hat frummy by the pool. 

On a serious note, the entire family missed my sister dearly, and it was a pleasure having her 'home'. Her plane arrived early in the morning and when my father drove her home and pulled into the driveway, I faintly remember my mom running outside, screaming "OH MY GOD AMAZING ALLIE THE  INCREDIBLE BEST GODDESS IS HOME!" I wonder what the reaction will be when I come home from Israel...yep I'll be taking a cab home...Considering they visited Allie twice in Israel, and they already told me I will only be receiving one visit my projection is somewhat understandable. hehe Kidding! It is indeed true, but that is because I will be coming home for break earlier than Allie did this year, so an extra trip is not necessary. Allie returning 'home' also returned the family back to normalcy; she filled the gap that has been empty for too long. Her two weeks here were ones of enjoyment and appreciation. 

My sister was 'home' for a few days to organize, shop, and send her regards to the people in the community and when her return became old news we went to Miami for the holiday. Well we actually did not go to Miami directly. My father found cheaper tickets for a flight to Atlanta then from Atlanta to Miami. So a day that could have been five hours of traveling transformed into one with a whole day of traveling. Unfortunately my dad refused to tell me how much 'cheaper' was, but if you know my dad then one dollar would be an understandable answer. 

When we arrived at my grandparent's apartment in Miami, Allie was greeted by the family that was already there while I, my father, and my mother stood awkwardly beside her. YA KNOW HOW IT FEELS NOW? At the apartment were my grandparents and my cousins.  My cousins live across the street from my family, and because of that, our families are very close. They go to the same school as I do, and we celebrate birthdays and holidays together. I consider our relationship similar to siblings, and my relationship with each one is different but uniquely special. 

Because my blog is relatively new and my family just recently discovered it, my blog was platform for discussion during the holidays. My grandparents would reference my blog and laugh, my dad would bite his nails in indifference, and my sister and cousins were saying "OMG PLZ WRITE ABOUT ME". Contrary to previous sentiments, Sensitive Sammy actually joined the bandwagon and began saying "Andrew you can write whatever you want about me". My response was always "Do something funny, and I'll write about the moment". Then obviously began the kids forcing jokes upon me, and after everyone saying "So are you guna write about that?" Writing about each one of them in a single blog would be time lengthy, and since I am super occupied with television I can only write about one of them. So...Congratulations...to...dum dummmmm...Xena the African Princess (A.K.A Rachel)!!!

As a tribute to your Bat-Mitzvah (Celebrtation at age twelve), and because you desperately  wanted this you are this weeks grand winner. The relationship between me and Rachel is a love-hate one; though, she more loves me than hates me. She has had a crush on me for years, but I keep on reminding her that we are cousins and to suppress her feelings. Further, she has a very philosophical side to her. For instance, she once asked me "Andrew, you know how we go into the water for enjoyment...well do you think fish go on land?" Although on the surface the question poses a very naive nature, a glance beyond the simplicity reveals the profound meaning in her intention. Rachel's intended meaning was to convey the philosophical bromine that 'absolutes don't exist in this world'. How can we be sure that fish don't come on land? We can be confident since there were no sightings of such an event, but can we be absolutely positive? Nope. This was your intended meaning...right  Rachel? 

As a typical little girl with a crush, she uses a mockery to display affection. Her favorite one is "Andrew, you're like so ugly". Very clever. Well, Rachel, I should remind you that we look alike, so by calling me ugly, you are in essence calling yourself ugly. Perhaps we are both ugly, but I just wanted to let you know that that particular insult is a double-edged sword. Despite our differences, we do have something in common: our laugh.Whether a joke completely lacks humor or whether it's funny but not laugh worthy, we both resort to the awkward defense 'teh'. It is just a natural response from the both of us; though, I trademarked that laugh long before she was born, so she clearly copied me. 

Alright well I suppose I can tell you one of Rachel's funnier moments. Two years ago a bunch of family and friends were sitting by the beach, and we noticed a pair of balloons that were the size of a circular fist. To the mature adults and Andrew we saw nothing of it, but immature Rachel was very amused by these two balloons. Let's just say she desperately wanted to impress me, so she put the two balloons in her upper garment of the bathing suit. Imagine a ten year old girl who suddenly has a pair of knockers. Twenty year old guys were stopping on the beach to check her out, and there was one young looking kid with a girl beside her. The young kid literally stared at her for a good four seconds until my uncle goes "Get outa here kid." This parade of amusement lasted only three minutes, when my uncle popped one of the balloons. Oh boy Rachel. 

This blog is to you Allie and Rachel! Enjoy guys! 

Ciao

Sorry this is really late. I just returned from Poland, and I will be leaving for Germany tomorrow! I used this one day to write this just to show how much i love y'all

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

 Well what has been happening in my life? 

1) Just finished my online course

2) Went to Poland for a week and saw the concentration camps. Next blog topic!

3) Impregnated a girl

4) Failed my AP Statistics exam considering I drew pictures all over the test. 

5) Going to Germany tommorow

One of these is false.

Keeping the excuses going

Loyal followers, 

Unfortunately I must extend this devastating, blogless period. My computer is still indeed not functioning properly, and this week I will be in Poland, seeing the concentration camps where my ancestors were devastatingly slaughtered. The following week I will probably be in a state of complete  vengeance and will be in Berlin with my father to get revenge on those Germans! Kidding, but I will be in Berlin with my father for visual pleasures, so expect a blog from both trips (With pictures!)

If I happen to have an audience in either of those places I will be having a blog signing. One will be right outside Auschwitz, and the one in Germany will be by the debris of the Berlin Wall.

Again I apologize for the myriad of excuses; though, my hit counter eclipsed 1000 and statistically I have been receiving more viewers when I don't post. Speaking about statistics...

Wow there is so much that needs to be discussed. I Will miss this for a while! Well hopefully this last bit of information will sustain you for a bit...certainly did for my mom..: Going to Israel for the year. whoooppie

P.S. Because I am an immature seventeen year old who doesn't know whether Osama Bin Laden's death was good or not, I am hesitant to post this with that Auschwitz joke there. Too soon Andrew! So this is my attempt at a disclaimer.

ciao!

Computer Issues

Loyal followers of my blog. We are experiancing some technical computer difficulties at the moment. Please be patient during this devestating time.

Words of Wisdom: AVOID ONLINE CLASSES

Dear Diary,

I finished grades K-12, but I cannot finish K12!

This past week, most students  in my school were officially granted the 'High School Graduate'  title. Teachers finally realized we are smarter than them and they can no longer educates us and finals were completed swiftly without care since grades no longer impact our future. We do, however, have daily mandatory seminars the seniors must attend for about two hours to compensate for all those nagging parents who say "We payed for a year! Not for 3/4 of one!" Perhaps those nagging parents are just my dad and he is to blame for the extension of school; though, there is no exam and all that is required of us is our presence. Hellllooo subconscious let's go meet daydream over there. The senior class has only had one seminar so far, and it was actually pretty interesting. The school brought in five victims of addiction from a program called Daytop. Daytop deals with teenagers struggling with drug abuse addiction and they were speaking to us about their experiences and childhood that led to addiction. Oddly, at the end of their presentation I noticed a kid from my grade approach one of the speakers and exchange numbers with him...welcome to Daytop. KIDDIN.

So most students can now proceed senior year with smiles extending from one ear to the next, enjoying the stress free moments. Of course lucky Andrew is stuck with one class left: K12 AP Statistics. K12 is a company that provides an education online. One must enroll in a specific course, and there are specific guidelines one must complete to pass the course. When I first chose Statistics as my elective the year prior, I was under the assumption that there will be an actual teacher with an actual structure who is visibly in front of me with a blackboard. I thought this would be another class with my teacher standing by the the desk with all the girls stuffing their noses in their notebooks while the guys are preventing the teacher from teaching--except me mom, I'm an angel. Guess who was mistaken? The first day of school I was notified that because of a dearth of students who opted for statistics as an elective, the school will not be providing a teacher.. "but on the bright side, Andrew, you can take K12!" umm can you fix the lighting; I don't really see any bright side.When I along with the other four suckers were informed what K12 was and how it works we were all like "An online course? No teacher? Hell ya!" 

Our initial sentiments paralleled the difficulty of the course when we first began. We were exchanging answers left and right and with the extra credit K12 provides we were all averaging above a 100. We would taunt students in other classes who were assiduously working their asses off, barely getting that 90, while we were putting in minimal effort and receiving scores above 100.  Well all good things come to an end and, as expected, Andrew's good came to an end after just a few week and transitioned him into a virtual hell. So to revise the quote and put it into perspective 'All good things come to an end...and the end sucks shit'

When my online teacher, Mrs. McDougald, finally noticed that the probability of all four of us to consecutively have the same multiple choice answers is close to 0, we were subjected to an online plagiarism lesson...ya we don't think she actually knows statistics either..Well the plagiarism lesson was basically "NEVER PLAGIARIZE AGAIN" extended over a 45 minute period. In our defense, though, we were never told what assignments can be done together and we had no idea the assignments were suppose to be done independently. We each did the work individually then the following day we would collaborate and discuss our answers. 

My average significantly dropped when the extra credit Mrs. McDougald distributed was stripped from our grades. With the relatively easiness of the course + extra credit + (plagiarism) all our grades were rocket high.  My real school said "Hey, these averages are too high...let's get rid of the extra credit!" So my grade dropped from a 106 to a 92. Not a bad grade. Well my school made that jurisdiction when the course was very easy, so a 92 was an achievable grade purely from academics. Now my grade was only dependent on the rigor of the course, and let me tell you, the rigor did a flippin 180. All four of us saw a new trend in our averages: 106...92...88..84...83...HANG IN THERE BUDDY. 

The way the course works is that they provide a calender that outlines when an assignment is to be handed in and what lesson we should be learning for a respective day. Because I am Jewish and have a holiday every other week, my schedule obviously does not coherently match with the one the course provides, and the four of us have always been suffering behind. When we miss an assignment for a given date, we receive a temporal 0 that is changed once we submit the assignment. So when the four of returned from winter break and logged unto K12 our averages dropped from an 86 to a 32. Go us! Needless to say, I am leading the competition with a record low of 6. Go me! Because K12's schedule is independent from my school's, this course lasts another three weeks. I have yet to attain that aforementioned 'high school graduate' title, and truthfully I am not sure I will. K13 here I come! I'm kidding, but I might NEED some assistance through the way. Someone want to give me that Daytop kid's number?

So I hope by now ya'll can feel my sentiments toward this K12 absurdity. My teacher lives in frkn Tennessee, an average below 50 is possible, and there is absolutely no structure. This class is what is preventing me from smiling from one ear to the next, so if you make a joke and I'm only half smiling, don't be insulted--blame K12! Everything is K12's fault. Boohoo. Sympathy for those suffering from Senioritis please! In conclusion, I recommend you to avoid online classes...especially you, papa, there is a lot of clicking and mouse-work involved. intense. 

-------------------------------------------------------

Before you start yelling at me that I forgot to write last week, I have a legitimate excuse: K12! No it's really because I was vacationing in Miami for the holidays, and it was hard to find time to write between the tanning and the sleeping. I am going to try hard to post a blog next week too, but I have my AP exams throughout next week and AP exams take precedence over your enjoyment..sorry

sooo...Israel...I have to make a decision today. Literally today. What the ****************************** am I doing next year? urgh. Ciao!

Me + Summer Plans = Recipe for Disaster

Dear Diary, 

Although most people anticipate summer like a fat kid anticipates his chocolate cake, I glimpse at what Summer has to offer and then grudgingly  turn back to my parents and ask "umm can I stay home?". Summer and I never really 'clicked'. Sure the absence of stress and work were great, but the whole 'sleep away camp' thingy was never really for me. (P.S. this is the moment where my mom yells "HA I TOLD YOU, YOU'RE INTROVERTED!") I hated the pit in my stomach before delving into an environment of unfamiliar faces, where one's popularity is contingent on how good one is at sports. (P.S. this is the moment where my mom yells "ANDREW. WHY DIDN'T YOU INHERIT YOUR FATHER'S BASKETBALL SKILLS") I don't know mother. Maybe because I inherited more of YOUR genes.

My first experience with sleep away camp was with Camp Lavi at the age of Idonotremember; though the basketball superstar, a.k.a my father, brags that he first went to sleep away camp at age seven. Congratulations Dad, you were a very mature seven year old. My memory of this camp is very vague; however, there was one instance, which I can recall, that both guaranteed my departure from the camp and has been a reference of mockery to this day. For some reason, my mom thought it was alright to send her child off to camp with 'tighty whitys'. Imagine the situation: I am surrounded by people I had just barely met and when we were all getting ready for bed, this loser pulls down his pants, exposing his tighty whitys, and the bunk roars in laughter. Apparently, because of my underwear, my popularity was determined by the first night; though, I suspect when they saw me play basketball the following day they would think no differently. Well the whole buzz about my under garments gradually died down, and over the course of the summer I  had made a lot of friends. One night the bunk was pretty wild, doing all sorts of weird things guys do when girls are not around, and this kid walks out with a hockey stick  and hockey equipment and attached to the hockey stick was...yes...my tighy whitys. "All hail lord tighty whity" Cried the bunk--I buried my head in my pillow and feigned sleeping.

In hindsight, it was a harmless, humorous joke, and  I probably should not have left this camp after a single bad experience. Looking back, this was probably one of my 'better' summers. Anyway, I left Camp Lavi and for the next three years I regretfully ventured into my next sleep away camp, Sport Star. There is not much to say about this camp except that the name of the camp certainly did not fit its campers. Sure there were some athletic people her and there, but aside from those few sport savvy campers, the camp was a representation of the least athletic kids in their respective schools. Very deceiving camp name. 'Sport Suck' still maintains the alliteration but better depicts the kids it attracts. 

Well the Sport Star years are very uninteresting , so let's fast-forward to the Seneca days. Oh God. Seneca has a notorious reputation as the camp where popularity is contingent on clothes, hair, looks, cologne, and accessories. It has that materialistic, cliquey environment where either you're in or you're out, and if you are out, all you want to do is get the hell out of that place. The staff too is absorbed in that cliquey environment, making it a very unpleasant experience to a camper who lacks the aforementioned prerequisites. Whatever prompted me to spend my summer at this camp must have been a pretty shitty prompt. "To hell with the rumors!" I said. I packed my bag, said my goodbyes, and was off to Camp Seneca Lake

To my luck I was placed in the bunk with the people who epitomized the camp's reputation: The Five Town kids. Basically apply all the adjectives I used to describe Seneca to these Five Town kids. I am sure there are plenty of Five Town kids who do not fit the stereotype; however, many do--especially those who go to Seneca. Well I walk into a bunk with thirteen beds: six beds in two rows with one bunk bed. Can you guess who was subject to the bunk bed? The outcast! "err but I brought boxers!" I thought. A couple of days later, my bunk was sitting at our designated table, waiting for dinner to be served, and my counselor asked me "Wait so your name is Andrew Mayer, right?" ..."Three days into camp and MY COUNSELOR cannot remember my name" I thought "wow someone is getting a lowered tip" ..."Pretty sure" I responded. "Umm by any chance are you related to an Allie Mayer?" This is the moment where I turned into a nothing in the eyes of the Five Town kids to a flippin' God. As I said in the introductory blog, my sister is just known. People know her. She has a great, outgoing personality which is accompanied by a beautiful face. It kills me to fawn over anyone besides myself, so refer to my second blog for a vivid description of my sister. 

My counselors began talking to the counselor's of neighboring bunks, and I was soon dubbed as "Allie Mayer's brother". I was then considered cool in the eyes of the counselors, and that mentality shed to the campers--particularly the Five Town kids. From then on I had the best summer yet. The counselors loved me and the campers chimed in on the 'Andrew luvin'. Well when the summer ended I was actually upset. Despite the camp's negative reputation, I had a blast--I did not want to leave. Thanks Al.

Well, as expected, a year proved to long to sustain a connection, and I no longer communicated with my Seneca friends during the school year. Nonetheless, I desperately wanted to go to Seneca for my second year where I would hopefully reconnect with past friends. Unfortunately, I was completely, utterly, totally wrong. I was not placed in the same bunks as the friends I had made the previous year, and the separation did not help reestablishing connections. My counselors were different than the previous year, and I was not a fan of the new ones. Well to keep a long story short, I haaateedddd this summer. I asked my parents if I could leave after one month, but who cares about Andrew? So my parents forced me to endure two months as a victim to the kids cliquishness. Dammit Allie!

After Seneca, I went on a travel program called Kanfei Nesharim. This program entailed three weeks of skiing/touring in New Zealand and Australia followed by a  relaxing week in Hawaii. Similar to Sport Star, this camp was just one of those 'blahhh' camps. I was not too big a fan of the people that went on the trip, so the dearth of interesting people somewhat abates the seemingly extraordinary countries I visited. 

"It's time Andrew." *Gulpp* My dad no longer wanted to spend a fortune on camps that I either hated or labeled 'blahhh', so he told me that this summer I will be making money. As a high school junior who was looking for every opportunity to increase my resume, in lieu of a job I proposed an internship to my dad. My dad agreed, and that summer I interned at the New York Board of Rabbis: the leading organization for inter-faith dialogue. I had to take a bus into the city three days a week, where I worked from 8:00-3:00. Colleges think I was fostering the dialogue between religions, yet all I did was manage paperwork and get coffee for the superiors. Shows how much thattt worked. 

Well this Summer I am no longer interested in an internship; I wanna make moneeyyyy. So I got a job as a counselor at the local day camp, and fortunately most of my school friends will be working there too. This summer symbolizes out last hoorah together--truly the last leg of a twelve year journey. Quite a poignant way to end off this stage of my life in my opinion; though, knowing my previous Summer experience this will somehow end up a miserable disaster. 'Shittt is that my camper over there drowning??!!?'

Ciao

Oh Sammy

Dear Diary,

Upon the exposure of my Diary to the public, I received my first critic: Sammy. A nine year old kid who struggles on the homework section that requires him to incorporate four of his weekly vocabulary words into a story has become the first person to bash my blog; though I should mention that sometimes my mom needs help on that homework part too, so perhaps the homework is truly challenging...orrrrr perhapsssss myyy mommm issss...KIDDIN' MUM. However, along with the haters will always come the admiring fans who actively support me such as my sister, the fans who passively appreciate my work such as my dad , and the fans who go flippin nuts and tell of their friends such as my mom. Mothaa you da bomb.

Well being the generous, kind, and amazing person I raised myself to be, I asked each family member individually if I may continue writing about them. My sister and parents gave me the thumbs up; however, when I asked Sammy if I can continue writing about him, he told me that what I wrote about him was mean. "Mean?!?!" I exclaimed "I called you a cutie with every single mention!". "Ya, but I didn't like what you said about me and my spiderman chair" he said. I took a look back at that blog entry, and I could not find anything insulting. I go back to him and told him that I think he misread what I wrote since nothing I wrote could have possibly offended him. I should note that the likelihood of him misreading what I wrote is very high considering my mom lets him do his mandatory reading in front of the television with the television on.  While ironically sitting in his Spiderman throne, two inches from the television. he neglects everything I say. At the dinner table this past Friday night, I asked Sammy if I may blog about him again, since at that age kids make decisions erratically--contingent on whether mom and dad have bought them the latest game. He once again said no, and when I asked why, he said because I was mean. OKAY! "Sam!" I said "Did you even read the entire dam blog?" "Nope" He said "But I didn't like what you said about me and my spiderman chair." Clearly something is going on between Sammy and his Spiderman chair that goes beyond an ordinary sit-stand up relationship. Not gunna ask.

I gave my mom one of those 'Help me out' looks, and she responded with one of those annoyed, leave me alone 'do whatever you want looks.' My dad on the other hand was waving his pom-poms, cheering Sammy on; God forbid I should ever get any support in this household! For some reason I did not feel right writing without my brother's sanction, so dinner continued with me incessantly asking Sammy, and Sammy incessantly responding 'What will you give me?' GRR NO PROGRESS! I have noticed that 'favors' do not exist for kids at that age. Something must always be compensated for their hard, diligent work, and the worst part is that they are past the age where you can no longer convince them into giving you a ten dollar bill in exchange for three quarters. I told Sammy I would give him one dollar, and he, as expected, said no. I then increased my offer; however is response was the same. I jokingly asked "K. One Thousand Dollars". Anyone with a half of brain would surely take this offer; however, Sammy of course said "Nope". Mom, you should really consider turning that television off.

Well my dad was at his limit at this point and decided to completely digress and declare this conversation over. So much authority this man has. Well he and Sammy began practicing a song of prayer titled "Anim Z'Mirot" which we hope he will be prepared for to recite at our cousin's Bat Mitzvah (Celebration at age 12). My dad recites the first verse and tells Sammy to follow. Sammy begins and I assure you with 100% confidence that he did everything besides 'follow'. What came out of his mouth was definitely not in the Prayer book. As the older brother, I BURST out in laughter. I was in one of those moods where I could not stop laughing, and I was accompanied by my mother who, on the contrary, was trying to hold in her laughter. Sensitive Sammy got all upset and Protective daddy came to the rescue "ANDREW GET OUT!" I walked into the conjoining room with the uncontrollable laughter and listened to Sammy continue from a distance.

When Sammy finally learned the concept of 'following', my dad was exhausted. Everyone went upstairs and, as usual, did his/her own thing. My parents lie on total opposite sides of their bed--my dad reading the "History of Something" and my mom reading "5 steps on becoming anorexic". Sammy begins his weekly nuisance with my dad. When my dad had enough Sammy time--I know. Shocking right?--he bounces to my mom's side. Sometimes my mom will embrace him and they will have their inappropriate cuddle time; however, often my mom will disregard him and order him to give her a foot massage. 

Well what does poor Andrew do during this time? Mom and Dad tell him to go to his room. They lock him in his room and tell him not to come out till morning. So Andrew obediently listens. He sits in his room waiting for someone to rescue him--to show him love. *tear* . Nah kidding. All that is self imposed by me. I lock myself in my room and hide from my family. They probably wonder what the hell I do in here but hehe 4th Amendment!

This weekend was different. I went to my room as usual, but after a few minutes stand up and head to my parents room. I shockingly walked into a room where Sammy and my mom were having their inappropriate cuddle time. "Umm am I interrupting something?". My dad gave me a "what the heck are you doing out of your room" emoticon and I awkwardly said "whattuuppp". Well at this point my entire family was looking at me as if I were about to reveal something BIG. Chill out family. "Umm Sammy. Can I blog about you?" I asked. My parents were like ughh and they continued reading their books. "What will you give me?" Sammy asked. hmmm. "I'll tickle your feet!" All kids love a foot rub; though, I personally would have taken the one thousand dollars. He agreed and after ten minutes Sammy granted me the holy sanction that I have been anticipating. He did mention that he would have to review each blog about him before I post it, but I am going to disregard that part for two reasons: 1) He will likely reject everything as 'mean' 2) A text this size will probably take him months to read. 

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Life has been pretty stressful lately. Between the rush of final exams and the pressure of making an Israel decision, I feel like I am going to explode. Oh, did I just mention an Israel decision? Yep. Despite a previous blog entailing my decision to forgo the year, my dad recently had me reconsider other schools. Well I'll keep all 10 of you updated even though I talk to you on a daily basis anyway. Ciao