H.O.T. Camp

Firstly, I'll explain the title. H.O.T. stands for Hold On To Your Crown, however, evidently, the last two letters were omitted so that the camp acronym could conform to the three letter tradition of our area's summer JT camps.

Now the facilities were, in my opinion, the best we've had so far. The chalet we stayed in resembled a giant chicken coop, the interior of which maintained the same theme. The lake out front provided us with kayaking, sailboating, and the occasional teeth-chattering swim.

Our camp guide, Hugo, was an amiable and humorous man with many talents, including acrobatic style dancing and sailboat piloting (for a time I was convinced that his purpose in bringing us sailboating was so he could tip us into the water or knock us over the head with he called "the BOOM". The gleam in his eye wasn't reassuring either).

The classes were convicting, as always, and the skits added a comical touch (except for the two skits I acted in, those were just embarrassing). As for the inspiration, it inspired, and the contributions of two new musicians, Amy and Laila, was a refreshing change (except for the few songs I played, that was just embarrassing).

The dance night went pleasantly well, and yes, I did go streaking after that. My original idea was to run through the dance floor butt naked while the strobe light was on, but a few minutes after my genius had concocted this idea, the strobe light was shut and the room was lit. Running nude through a forest path in the dark was thrilling, however, the sharp pebbles, lack of light and shoes, and the fact that I couldn't shout for fear of discovery, did dampen it slightly. I'm just glad I didn't trip.

Pictures should be posted soon, sadly, I'll have to leech off my friends photos since I took none of my own. My mom did bring a digital camera, and for a moment I was elated, until I discovered the memory card more-than-half full and the batteries more-than-half dead.