Lady Fingers: Life Lessons

I have never been one to read self-help books. In my 26 years of living, I’ve bought two; one was for school and the other was a flat surface I used to construct marijuana cigarettes on. Nothing against these types of books, of course. I just have yet to find How-To: Life for the Awkward Gal Who Overanalyzes Everything. Until I do, I’ll leave what I can here and you’re welcome to use the help at your leisure. If the aforementioned book never makes it onto the shelves of Barnes and Noble, just remember I said it first. These are the life lessons I made-up out of things that have happened to me. Enjoy.

It was the summer of 2003: I was 13 years old, my mosquito bites were becoming bigger mosquito bites (I’m referring to my tits, though there were many mosquitoes that summer), and the world was in the palm of my pubescent hand. It was my second summer at the Catholic sleep-away camp I would call home for many summers after. This particular summer was important to the girls of Cabin 9. You see, we were the second oldest girls in the entire camp: We stayed-up later, danced longer, and at the end of the session, we got to go on the mystical off-property camping trip to the DLB (Dry Lake Bed). What was so important about this trip was not the campfire; it was not the ghost stories; it wasn’t even the fucking s’mores. No, this was bigger than that. The oldest boy cabin had a tradition of scaring the living shit out of any girls camping in the DLB. But not that night, no sir. The Cabin 9 girls were going to retaliate. That night we were going to rewrite history, as well as learn how to shave our pubes from the way-too-advanced-for-her-age girl, Lauren.

The plan was the take them down one by one by any means necessary and take them down we did. While engaging in some light celebratory high-fives, I noticed some rustling in a bush nearby. I took it upon myself to tackle mystery bush boy and I did so in one swift leap. I was attached to his back when I brought him to the ground, but I was quickly thrown and my prized game was gone. Nevertheless, we had won the battle. Hell hath no fury like 15 teens that just recently started filling-in their sports bras.

This is where my first life lesson comes in. We walked into chapel the following morning as the camp Priest Father J was holding up the Jesus Wafer. That’s typically the part of the mass where good Catholic folk are supposed to bow their heads in reverence. This was not the case that particular morning as all eyes were on me, eyes that were accompanied by facial expressions that read, “What the fuck did you do, Sabrina?!” I was asking myself the same question until Father J lowered the Christ Crispy Treat and displayed the world’s biggest (and holiest) black eye of all time. Yep, that’s right. I [unintentionally] assault-and-batteried the shit out of a Catholic priest.

Who has two thumbs and just got bumped up to first class on Damnation Airlines? It was me. I had the two thumbs and they were attached to the hands that were responsible for battering one of God’s BFFs. We made our way to the dining hall where the camp cook was serving up a warm plate of Shame and Eggs, and the only person not talking about Father J’s black eye at breakfast was the holy man himself. The plan was to rewrite history, not update it with an addendum of priest brutality (I’m being really dramatic about this, but whatever). Needless to say, I was mortified and I would spend the rest of that summer being the girl who gave a shiner to the priest.

I feel my first life lesson is best expressed in the form of quotes you would find written on a shell-framed picture of the beach in the home decor section of TJ Maxx.

• Life is full of obstacles and challenges, not all of them need to be tackled.
• When life throws you lemons, make sure to not body slam them. It will be nearly impossible to make lemonade after that.
• There’s a light at the end of the tunnel, but just because it’s dark doesn’t mean you’re necessarily in a tunnel. Take a minute to figure that out before jumping to (or in my case, on) conclusions.
• Keep calm and don’t assault your elders.
• Dance like no one is watching. If you realize someone might be watching, ask for a name because you might know them.
• Live. Love. Laugh. Look out for priests hiding in bushes.

I’m sure you all are wondering whatever happened with me and ol’ F.J. Rest assured, we’re totally cool now. It took six summers on staff and some serious schmoozing on my part, but we made it with no hard feelings. I would like to believe that the story is told to the kiddies around the campfire every summer while they roast s’mores. Though realistically speaking, I’m probably the example they use for the camp rule to always have your flashlight.