Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Summer Camp, Backs and Blues

Last Monday, I loaded up my jeep, nodded to the spider who has taken up residence in the passenger seat (and is sweetly keeping my jeep bug free) and set out for Dark Odyssey Summer Camp.

For the past several years, I have worked crew at DO.  Which means that I show up early, stay late and help set up the Sex-O-Rama.

Which is good.  Because I'm helping to set up something called the Sex-O-Rama.  Just try saying it a few times.  You can't help but smile.

DOSC is held at a camp in Northern Maryland.  It's a really a camp.  You know, with cabins.  A dining hall.  Bugs.  Flag poles. Bathrooms that no amount of bleach can really help.  I like to think that once upon a time band camp happened there.  And that those geeky children have now grown up.  And created the Sex-O-Rama. 

The Sex-O-Rama is a group of connected cabins that are transformed into something fabulous.

 First, the Make Out Room.  It has shiny, pretty fabric hanging on the walls, luscious low lights twinkling thru sheers, comfy futons, large Liberator shapes, and, of course safer sex supplies.

Next to the Make Out Room is the Paradise Hotel, then the Bordello, then the Peep Show.

My jeep and I tumbled down the dirt road and pulled up to the cabins.  I found M getting her cabin ready for her leather family who would be arriving later and one other person from our crew wandering around.  The Dungeon crew had already delivered all of our stuff and stacked it in front of the Sex-O-Rama cabins.  The three of us then proceeded to wander about aimlessly waiting for our leaders.  

In due time, Colton and Tristan (two of the four organizers of the whole shebang) showed up with their UHaul and their check lists.  I heart checklists.   As we unloaded them, more of the crew trickled in and we set to work. 

Then, the crew leaders for our crew showed up:  E and J.  E drew maps of how each room was to be set up.  Notes regarding which specific items were needed in each room were posted on the doors.  With painters tape.  So as to not leave a residue.  Swoon.

We set to work.  Staple guns flew, fabric was piped and draped, sex slings were taken to their appropriate locations.  Old staff met new staff and much chatting ensued.  

Then there was fried chicken.  Yum.

Sometime between nine and ten we knocked off for the night and I retired to my bunk to read my kindle and knit my sweater.  Which is very close to being done.  So I'm at that somewhat obsessive knitting/I-really-want-to-finish-this-so-that-I-can-wear-it-and-besides-I-want-to-start-those-really-cute-Fair-Isle-flap-mittens-that-I'm-going-to-make-for-S-stage (so that her fingers stay warm when she's working outside and there's a damp wind that just cuts thru other fabrics but she needs to sometimes have a her fingers free to write something or maybe toggle the switch on her walkie? unless you can do that with a mittened hand.  i don't know anything about walkies.  they're mysterious).

I spent much of the night flopping about my air mattress as it deflated.  When I gave up on sleeping at 7 am I was sore.  Like beaten sore.  Which really shouldn't happen until later in the week.  And then only after a negotiation.  And a safe word.  

I stretched.  Wondered why it sounded like a toddler was running around on the roof, realized it was only a mouse, and took my knitting and kindle to the Make Out Room where there were soft things to sit on while I waited for the dining hall to open.  

Soft futon.  Chick lit on the Kindle.  Angora silk blend sliding thru my fingers.  mmmmm.  good morning.