Looking Back on the Year, Part III...
...isn't looking like it's going to happen. I had the first two parts written and tried to make time to write the last one, but *bam* 2006 got here exactly the way summer break doesn't.
I was just going to talk about student life camp and how awesome people are. I think at the end of every year I say "this was the year I really fell in love with people," when I really just fall in love more every year.
People are neat, y'all, and there's no excuse not to love them.
I think one of the more encouraging things surrounding SLC and other parts of the summer was making friends with a guy named Chris. (If you're reading this, Chris, but I don't think you are, this is totally true.) Chris is three years younger than me but about a foot taller. He's in Asylum. He's one of those Cool Guys, wears Rainbows and Polo shirts, maybe listens to Dave Matthews... the kind of person I wouldn't have gotten along with in middle school. We were in Asylum together for a year and a half or so. I laugh about it now, but frankly, I was intimidated by him. I can't even remember why.
We both went on the Asylum trip to Washington, DC, in early July and were both assigned to the same job: helping take care of kids at an inner-city day camp. I tried to pretend like I barely noticed him and be all cool and everything, but that didn't last long because I had to let down my guard to play with the kids. Well let me tell you right now. All of that was so stupid. I'm not saying that because now I know Chris is a really awesome guy, but because not allowing yourself to open up to people is way more trouble than it's worth.
In all honesty, I still don't know Chris very well. I'm very friendly with him on the rare occasion I do see him, but we never really get the chance to talk. I wish I hadn't spent all that time ignoring him, though. Lesson learned. I don't know him very well, but I wish I did and now we've gone our separate ways and it's too late. Probably. Maybe I'll get a second chance.
Of course, I'm going to make the same mistake over again with someone else. I probably already have. But maybe now I can catch myself faster.
That's ending on sort of a sad note, but I began by saying it was encouraging. It was encouraging because I expected (and feared) rejection and got acceptance instead. It made me think maybe I'm not as socially inept as my insecurities would have me think.
I was just going to talk about student life camp and how awesome people are. I think at the end of every year I say "this was the year I really fell in love with people," when I really just fall in love more every year.
People are neat, y'all, and there's no excuse not to love them.
I think one of the more encouraging things surrounding SLC and other parts of the summer was making friends with a guy named Chris. (If you're reading this, Chris, but I don't think you are, this is totally true.) Chris is three years younger than me but about a foot taller. He's in Asylum. He's one of those Cool Guys, wears Rainbows and Polo shirts, maybe listens to Dave Matthews... the kind of person I wouldn't have gotten along with in middle school. We were in Asylum together for a year and a half or so. I laugh about it now, but frankly, I was intimidated by him. I can't even remember why.
We both went on the Asylum trip to Washington, DC, in early July and were both assigned to the same job: helping take care of kids at an inner-city day camp. I tried to pretend like I barely noticed him and be all cool and everything, but that didn't last long because I had to let down my guard to play with the kids. Well let me tell you right now. All of that was so stupid. I'm not saying that because now I know Chris is a really awesome guy, but because not allowing yourself to open up to people is way more trouble than it's worth.
In all honesty, I still don't know Chris very well. I'm very friendly with him on the rare occasion I do see him, but we never really get the chance to talk. I wish I hadn't spent all that time ignoring him, though. Lesson learned. I don't know him very well, but I wish I did and now we've gone our separate ways and it's too late. Probably. Maybe I'll get a second chance.
Of course, I'm going to make the same mistake over again with someone else. I probably already have. But maybe now I can catch myself faster.
That's ending on sort of a sad note, but I began by saying it was encouraging. It was encouraging because I expected (and feared) rejection and got acceptance instead. It made me think maybe I'm not as socially inept as my insecurities would have me think.