Lesson Learned. Sort of.

I'm at an internet cafe now. The big Germany game starts in 10 minutes so this is definitly not kosher. I don't know when I will have internet next though, so I thought I should take a couple of minutes to write something. Really, all you need to know is that I survived.

First of all, last week was the week from hell.

There were good moments. Fleeting seconds, really.

I think the craziest thing about the entire experience is that I actually stayed there. I chose to try to be positive and live with the flies, knowing full well that I was getting paid peanuts. This morning we had a meeting in Wolfsburg with all the other counselors to discuss our weeks. I began to realize how out of my mind I was when I heard that someone's only complaint was that the internet connection was slow, or the shower was "around the corner"---whatever that means. Try sharing a shower with 17 middle school German girls.

I have to say, thinking more about the past week hasn't made me nostalgic or more positive about the entire thing. It's given me hope. I mean, I'm pretty sure I can do anything if I can be dropped off at a barn in the middle of Germany with a suitcase filled with pens, paper, wool and paint and put in charge of 17 little girls for a week.

Maybe the funny thing is that not only don't I really care for Germany but I don't really care for kids. If you're thinking, "How did you get this job?" you have more sense than I do, apparently. But I will say that I've learned a lot about what it is to grow up and start becoming your own person, just spending a week with 10, 11 and 12 year old girls. Somehow, after those awkward middle school years are over all you can do is be grateful to have made it out alive. All bad memories, which are almost all of the memories, are erased. Being with those girls this week was field research. Somehow there is always that one girl everyone decides to make fun of and tease. And that kid, of course, is always your favorite. Because that girl is the only one who is different, the only one who chooses to not wear Miley Cyrus t-shirts, straighten her hair and read "WOW" magazine.

I could go on to tell more horror stories of stoic Frau Becker and her horse vaulting routine to Frank Sinatra's " New York, New York" or the barn cat jumping on the table to take a slurp out of the hot, creamed spinach for lunch . Or even the mouse nest and pile of mouse poo hidden behind the sofa I alternately slept on inside (when I wasn't in the thistle tent). Perhaps at some other point.

Now it's game time! And it is SO good to be with all the counselors. We're living in this old windmill that looks like a group of frat guys on mushrooms had a huge party and painted all the walls. Pictures later.

PLEASE SEND ME MAIL TO MICHENDORF. I can get mail from there and will be there next weekend!