Gaga Is a Man, and Other Reflections on Summer Camp

thatshowiroll21—a Sparkler who writes about life with Cerebral Palsy—kisses summer camp goodbye and says helloooo college prep! –Sparkitors

Hey everyone, it's Kat! And it's question time.

First of all, asking questions about my CP will NOT offend me. I'm here to share my perspective, and to do that, you guys need answers to your questions. Curiosity is natural, okay? Okay!

About what kind of CP I have: To be honest, I'm not sure. Spastic Cerebral Palsy and Spastic Diplegia Cerebral Palsy are both very similar, but the latter has more of an effect on the lower body. If I were to hazard a guess, I'd say that's the one I have.

I'm not sure if my CP is moderate or severe, but I'm thinking moderate: I'm very independent and do most things myself, whereas people with severe CP tend to need a lot of help to get by. There is no way I have mild CP, where it's not very obvious unless you're looking for it. For example, somebody with mild CP is almost always able to walk, and when they do it's nearly flawless, except for some clumsy steps or the inability to stand with perfectly straight legs. Most people with CP have crappy motor skills, which means they either can't do or have difficulty doing things that require good dexterity, such as writing (mine looks like a ten-year old's scrawl), tying knots, or opening jars, bottles, and wrappers. I can do all of these things but tie a knot—and every so often I'll come across a jar that is just too tight. Would you do the honor?

For those who ask if I'm going to University of Ottawa: Nope! I'm going to college, not university. Algonquin College, to be exact.

And there you have it! Onto the blog, my friends!

Do you guys remember not too long ago when rumours were swirling around that Lady Gaga was a man?

It's true. She's a hot, short man with gelled blond hair, one who parades around shirtless lifeguarding the pool at my summer camp. Thanks to this sexy lifeguard, my favorite camp event was Gaga Night, where said lifeguard made us sing and dance to a tune, either a Gaga cover or a "Gaga'd up" camp song. Guys, I have never seen such an uncanny impression. He had the high shoes, the crazy blond wig, and an outfit I'm still confused about, days later. He even had the lip gloss! Can you ask for more? No, you cannot.

After we stopped gawking and giggling, it was time to prepare our own LG-inspired performance. Our cabin took the words to the camp song "There Was a Great Big Moose" and changed the words to "There was was a great Gaga, who liked to sing la-la!," among other lyrical rewrites I'm still snickering about. In the end we were the best by far, and were rewarded with—drum roll, please—THE SLAB OF GAGA! It looked a lot like a bizarre Christmas present wrapped in fluorescent tape, but it was just awesome to win.

I also joined the sailing club this session, which was great, and extremely liberating. Let me explain: our camp has wildly strict rules on what the counselors are allowed to talk about with campers, what's against the rules, and what's NCA (Not Camp Appropriate). That sounds pretty reasonable, right? In practice, however, it makes me frustrated enough to fling the Slab of Gaga at the camp director's head. Any and ALL sexual references, even really mild ones such as asking your friend in a suggestive tone where they went last night, are likely to be shot down by one staffer or another. Many songs were banned because the lyrics mention someone dying—and one song was banned because it was about boogers. COME ON! Sometimes I wonder if they think all us disabled people are innocent little cherubs or something.

But when you sail with staff that you really click with, the barriers come crashing down. Camp is a very censored environment, but when you go sailing, you can have REAL conversation. I clicked so well with one staffer, talking about school, boys, family, favourite music, etc., that I'm even getting her email (not exactly allowed) so we can keep in touch!

In other news, on one morning during the session I woke up at 5 a.m. in order to go white-water rafting. About two hours later, life jacket in place, I was starting to wonder what I had gotten myself into. I kept picturing myself falling out, thanks to my morbid imagination. I love to hold onto somebody in the pool, but alone in the water, I freak since I can't kick my legs hard enough to swim! Not to mention that falling out of the raft, even while wearing a life jacket, would result in me squealing like a baby pig. Very, very sexy.

By the time we reached that first rapid, I had a death grip on the poor staffer's knee. I wouldn't be surprised if she has a very odd mark there forever and ever. Thankfully, I didn't crack my head open or get swallowed up by the water! Mission accomplished!

On the last day, we got all dressed up for a banquet—except I ditched the dance to go fishing, thanks to a wonderful surprise from a staff member. We went along with a lovely-looking tower of a dude who is studying to be a doctor. It's insane how many of these twenty-something staffers want to be  doctors! Anyway, we found worms and a solitary slug, and in the end I caught a hilariously pathetic sunfish.

I miss camp already.

But.

On Wednesday I'm going on a huge shopping spree for all of my COLLEGE STUFF! Stay tuned for further news on related catastrophes!

The book of the week is The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafón, set in Barcelona during their civil war.  The song of the week is "Live Like You Were Dying," by Tim McGraw. It's a great song and definitely a rule to live by!

-Kat :)

Do you have any lingering questions about CP? Write 'em in the comments!

Related post: Summer Romance and Disability Camp

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