Teaching-Cooking with Julia

Teaching-Cooking with Julia

the amount of sweets in our fantastic house, makes Julia child look like a creative blend of lechery and much more. 

Early morning I cooked a pan of brownies they sit on the oven and temptation throughout the day, makes you want to read all of the best cookies novels written in this entire world.  Its an aphrodisiac

for the best loved food in the world, making you want to jump on the treadmill just for the hundreds of calories that you allowed yourself to inhale, 

somehow you loved yourself more and more and wanted to read more and more for all the possible combinations of chocolate you could possibly imagine,  yes, if any kind of love was out there it was in the process of cooking, and the simplest routine.


That summer would be filled with half a dozen routines
2 hours of exercise a day
2 hours of reading a book
2 hours of writing my book
2 hours of preparing materials for the kids
2 hours of learning Arabic
2 hours of arts and crafts
beading
painting projects
collages
crocheting
making projects on my wall
national Geo collages
going to book clubs
going to Islamic events
going to visit people out of state
planning to paint art for the window chimes
painting art projects for my nieces
collecting insistent pictures
connecting to the student websites
collecting plays for the students to read
finding hundreds of books to read to read on Barnes and Noble
planning hundreds of community events to go to: halaqas, poetry slams, book fairs, craft things,Isna, planning events with my family barbeque's, random places to take pictures at, places to go to read books
volunteering at the library, at schools, at camping places, volunteering at humane societies
nephews sports events
scrap booking for my journal
dance workouts to go to in the morning
sports teams
visiting friends:Leda's house, nadar, Vila, Christie, Meta's, Merry's house, hanging out with Jim
baking and baking with frosting
shortbread houses
cleaning projects in the house
collecting music
collecting movies from the library,
having outfits set out everyday, an 8 hour plan everyday
money planned out an expense plan, planned out
getting ideas of things to do from classroom ideas like origami, and tangible ideas
trading TV sitcoms with Christie
other popular sitcoms 

smocks

      

Taekwando at Parnassus school

   

Grade A+-

Learning Taekwando during gym time instead of Gym... Learning spanish and Latin in the first grade all in one day....playing with the spanish teacher...and him telling the kids the spanish way of saying American Idioms.... Having your students stand when called upon, it is possible...

The other day while teaching at Parnassus, one learns what it would be like to learn taekwondo at the elementary level, the riches of this sort of eduction, and level of preparation on behalf of the teachers, was really quite amazing...and with that being said, we look at what made that school work..books that directly coorelated with what they were learning, writing it in their planners what they learned...precolonial america and journaling about it..then the stories by teachers that help reinforce those ideas...these kids with their artificial classrooms, where they learn on cement floors and chairs with tennis balls on them, and the classroom has this feeling of superiority towards teachers, as students stood everytime they gave an answer to a question, as the student respected whatever the teachers said, even during language classes like Latin and spanish...students knew what they were allowed to do and what they couldn't do...they loved challenges and found learning interesting and drew pictures of british flags to enhance journal entries...

http://50schoolsn90days.blogspot.com/ A picture from my other blog
  

Book Ideas

1. My book IDEAS
   HIGH SCHOOL EXP
   CULTURAL GET TOGETHERS
   WRITING FOR THE NEWSPAPER
   LEARNING LANGUAGE
   ARABIC IN APT
   HMONG AT HOME
   SOMALI IN MY OWN APT
   SPANISH AT SCHOOL
   TIBETAN AT WORK
   GOING TO ALL PUBLIC SCHOOLS-AND THE DIVERSITY
   TEACHING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS
   BEING THE GIRL WHO HAS BEEN EVERYWHERE
   OHIO
   TEXAS
   SOUTH MPLS
   WALKING DOWNTOWN
   PEOPLE RECOGNIZING YOU
   CALIFORNIA
   DULUTH
   GETTING IDEAS AND RUNNING WITH THEM
   EATING THE FOOD
   TAMALES WITH KENIA DURING X-MAS
   INJERA DURING ORTHODOX X-MAS AND ETHIOPIAN TEA
   RAMADAN WITH THE MORRACCAN FAMILY
   HMONG WEDDING FOOD
   COOKING AT MY OWN APT WITH MAI
   RAMADAN WITH SOMALI FAMILY
   BAD PIZZA WITH THE RIZZI
   RESTAURANTS
   VIETNAMESE WITH KENNY
   THIRD WHEEL DATE WITH NANCY
   THIRD WHEEL WITH KENIA
   DANCING AT PARTIES
   GUAYANESE ANNIVERSARY
   SOMALIAN WEDDING
   CLUB SCENE
   TEACHING LIBERIANS TO DANCE
   DANCING FOR H.S VS DANCING FOR STUDIO
   COMPETITIVE DANCING
   DANCING AT CARLOS WEDDING
   DANCING AT MAI'S GRADUATION
   DANCING AT THE PRIVATE STUDIO-HIP HOP
   BREAKDANCING AND MARRYING A PAKISTANI

Music/Ireland
Shriner's Hospital for Children
-I came from a hospital or where you meet young men from Ireland who speak wickedly about the many music concerts that they’ve attended.
Even in leg braces that puncture the inner bone. You could picture the “pubs” just by, the way he wonderfully spoke about them.
Unfortunately besides all the pizza brigades and late night roaming around the hospital, the only real fun I would ever find is just barely listening to him and a young Shiners activities counselor speak about going to the concerts, her hair shaved bald, head banging out of face out of mind.
You’ll find tat their wiliness to go into a mosh pit is ever more great than a Vietnamese young man who is just getting his death metal group off the ground. His first c.d. published called Cannibal Corpse, or is that the band for which I came to attend for the very first time at First Avenue, semi interest in death metal begins in 11th grade, where for five hours at a time you get to see the head bangers who purposely grew their hair out, including Kenny. I left him there after one hour, my faith told me that this place wasn’t a great one to begin a life of hard drinking or knocking my brains out with all the head-banging. My death metal friend could

journal

The other night it was Zhumba, just me in my black tight pants shaking my tail feather in the mirror, sort of speak.  I did my best to keep up wtih the instructor, you'll be surprised of the amount of memory you need to know when learning a dance, its your passion, how much your going to put in each mood, your unique style your expression, your arms, the pointing of your feet.  Its the way you encourage others, also the way you as an individual think you can connect with the movements, like reggaetone, can you connect with that gangster rapper?

 The instructor kept saying things like "look how strong your bodies are "amazing!" 

The dance songs seem to bounce in your head, catch the rythm says the instrutor, the rhythm in particular is this low tone "sexy body, chic..." something along those lines.  You'd listen and you can feel the song, and it seems to push you.

You think of all the strategies that might just enable you to continue the aerobics class, although you feel a pull in your knee joints, as if your on the bike, you simply slow down, and walk it off. Aerobics is a different story, but I believe the greatest time at the gym has to be mondays and thursday nights, when it pure showing off...

 Even the other day one instructor mentioned biking around and getting a sun burn, in the late afternoon absolutely incredible considering the whether in Minnesota.

 

 

teaching at Al-Amal-owl moon

 

teaching at Al-Amal-owl moon

that year teaching at al amal consisted of a lot of things but some of the most memorable moments had to be the times, when I wrote or read with the students, "owl moon" having the students imagine a windy stormy storm ship or life in ethiopia, reminding them to eat all of their food as kids in haiti barely have any food, or writing personal narratives and having them share them, or having a group of boys sitting in thier kamiz on a stariwell greet you and say hi because they knew you were a teacher, or the numerous foundraisers, or the numerous staff meetings, and getting hugs from memoona at lunch time, or sitting in "The lab" in order that me or the Arabic teacher could learn how to put a gradebook together. or walking throughout the hallways during class sessions and seeing all the different teachers deliver different lessons and being able to sit in on those lessons as you walked by, or remembering what it would be like to teach at the highschool level. Having the kids see a hundered different fairy books, and books that they had earned, and feeling like my classroom smelled like a freshly cut forest as the kids ran around with antibacteria wipes too clean each individual desk. And then I would come home and dance in front of our kitchen buffet so that my reflection would bounce off the clear cabinet doors and I would think of the happiness of my grandma, and how similar we two were, the kindness of our hearts.

Later I would remind a student to be nicer to another student, as there heart was soft and I would see them shoulder to shoulder in friendship. the countless letters and amounts of forgiveness that would be showered in to one another.

That year I would do countless research, little girls would have dozens and dozens of books, and I would be excited for them, as I knew how smart they would be when they grew up and how much knowledge they would be able to share with one another, as they scored 52 out of 52 on a math test in one half an hour. or other students wandered in amazement how they had recieved so many books and were they rich?

I would be amazed by the brillance of having students create writers webs and sitting and reading over writing journals that contained letters to their mom and dad (baba) and they would do extra credit assignments and be excited when a parent brought in cupcakes for the whole class to share, and this would be quite the thrill blecause they would be quite the excitement 

as I would wear skinny jeans under long abayos and collaspe in prayer every morning, before school started.

 

In Memory Of Robin Williams" by Jim Meskimen

In Memory Of Robin Williams" by Jim Meskimen
They didn't burn all the pianos
When Fredrick Chopin died
Didn't outlaw oil paints
when Picasso took his final ride
No one put a stop to baseball
When Mickey Mantle's time was up
Or banned all Russian novels
When Tolstoy went belly up
On Shakespeare's death, nobody said
"Now hath arrived the day --
From this point hence let none dare
Put forth pen to write a play!"
We celebrate what's left
By the departed, it's our choice
Yet it does seem sacriligeous
To do Robin Williams' voice
A voice that was designed to soothe,
Soft, deep tones that resonate
And cascade gently outward
From behind a smiling face
A voice that could accelerate
To catch up with the mind
Like shifting into overdrive
To not get left behind
A voice that could change character
Like seconds on a clock
Or hijack nationalities
For a spin around the block
Shift age, shift viewpoint, shift I.Q.,
Whatever's not nailed down
Destroy, rebuild, destroy again,
A formidable clown
We'll hear this voice in future times
In reruns on TV,
It will occupy the world wide web
Live on, digitally
We'll hear its echoes come
From other mouths and other lips
In tributes and homages, and,
Like psychedelic trips
We'll think the owner's back again
With his familiar sound
But they'll all be imitations --
Just an audible rebound
New jokes aren't in the pipeline now,
Not that the well went dry --
But the jester who possessed this voice
Just chose to say goodbye
With the wealth of joy he left us
We should probably rejoice
But it's hard to grasp we lost the guy
Who used to have this voice.
(Reprinted with permission from Jim Meskimen.)

Continuation of Her Mother makes it better

 Continuation of Her Mother makes it better 

The girl picked up her own ball and thought of puke cake.  Her mother made the best cake,everyone knew that!  So did the book club and her sister and her brothers who smoothed the chocolate pudding whisks across their tongues during her mother's final cake making steps.  "Who wants to lick the cream cheese?"  Huffy was always first.  "Can I lick the back as well?" "Let your brother, you had your chance."  Her mother's face was shifting towards the bowls contents.  She had already pressed the walnut crust to the pan, baked it to three fifty and was adding the cream cheese with a clean spatula.  "I'll have you know that your grandma made this, the best."  She said, eyeing the Redford.

What's in this stuff anyway?  Huff asks.  Well, you know-the works," said Huffy's Mom.  "Listen-Huff, I don't have a lot time today, I've got my groceries, you're brother's soccer again, a PTA meeting at four."  "But Ma-I'm going to need the recipe to Robert Redford."  She accented the D's in Redford, pursing her lips at the end hoping to get her mother's attention in her newest interest in Robert Redford, although she had no idea who he was.

Two minute Free Write

 Two minute Free Free
Sitting down with Grandma Ida, her Grandma Ida pulls back the silver lid to the baking pan that holds her infamous peanut butter bars.  She gazes at her grandaughter Huffy as she makes a choice.  Grandma Ida had been fussing with the brown-tan braided rug and dusting the rotary phone before Huffy arrived but she settled herself now in the sling back chair reminiscent of the 70's era. She made one last adjustment to the green ceramic tray, replacing sugar frees with Werther Originals, Huffy's, father's favorite candy.  Grandma Ida always placed the best candy for the day Huffy's father came to visit.  The happiest day of  Ida's life was when Huffy's father came to ask Grandpa for his daughter's hand in marriage.  Her father returned from Nam in one piece which was more than she could say for the many other sons who widowed their daughter's within the first year of marriage. No bother, they were all patriots, but it freed her mind to think her daughter would have a child one day.

Girl got arrested for Twerking5

Hollers and Screams of general hysteria were heard on the streets.  "Hurry up, hurry up" .  By that time, it was a big scene, Land Rovers and Cadillac's showed up.  Everyone except the uniforms, who would normally have called in the Whirlybirds to circle and surveillance overhead.  But this wasn't in Manhattan, this was St. Louis.  Kids couldn't get there fast enough, turnin' over cans, and newspaper stands.  Anything they thought would sell BIG.  The big time thieves might have gone for the heavy stuff, the safe and the ATM.  But these amateurs were stealin' for the joy of stealin' not knowin' that this day would go down in history every kid across America would be watchin' with their parents at arms lengths tryin' to shoo them out of the room-I don't want you to become like this.  These kids are going to jail, throwing out reminders of what happens when you misbehave. 

Continued4...Girl got arrested for Twerking

Continued4...Girl got arrested for Twerking   

I decided at that moment to fish out my Galaxy 4G.  Well, I thought they might be afraid of me using my cell phone to record them, but I did it.  I didn't catch every last bandit, or every last sixteen year old that added "Robbing the Seven-Eleven" to their resume.  I mean it was crazy that night.  I could have pinned the scene on it being Friday the 13th, but I thought better of it.  Guys were comin' in faster than anyone, lifting their pants up, as if that were the thing, they were the most worried about, getting caught with their pants down between their legs by the feds.  I watched them, the kids didn't seem to understand what was going on.  They were just taking things fast, as if being instructed by some CAT on the street, some LOAD mouth that beat them up a couple time, and then they ended up joining him tonight down at the Eleven, that's what they called it, the Elven, adding seven would have been uncool so they shorted it. "Come on man, meet me at the eleven!"  

Continued2...Girl got arrested for Twerking

Continuation2-Girl got arrested for Twerking 

I walked in cautiously that night.  I told you, remember? Yeah, And then you crept up.  I mean, at what point did you believe you could grab a card and get away with it?  When I got closer I saw 20 people gathered like mice, someone finally turned light on in the place, and the lights only declared the activity at stake to the whole neighborhood.  All of sudden, the bandanna clad twenty-somethin' year olds showed up, kids as young as seven.  Kids rollin' up in their baggie white T-shirts, using them like tents to fill up their shirts with candy, like it was Halloween in August.  

Girl gets Arrest for Twerking-Free write

Girl gets arrested for twerking.

Based on a real story

 

Its bad enough that she was dancing at all.  I suppose.  What do you mean?  I mean well did you see her at all? No, I was too busy stuffing my cart full of toilet paper, meds, and all the expensive items.   I could find.    

15 minute free write

15 minute Free Write

Seven years ago icicles lent themselves to trees, closing schools, imploding vehicles, stranding even snow plows.  The snow fell once again in May 2013, no records, but still too late in the season.

Minnesota shore of Lake Superior, the patrons of Duluth along the three block radius of her home yelled out to their neighbors who still needed to make the effort to work.  “Hell of a snow! Ain’t it?  I know, right?” 

Stepping outside, the one foot of snow stuck to her feet.  If she had the inclination to stop, the snow surely didn't mind.  But she was on a mission, tied her green scarf tighter on her head, stretching it around in a knot, so it freed up the center.  Bent down to tie one loose brown lace on her size five leather boots, and fixed her green puffy jacket, staring at the snow’s reflection as it pierced her eyes.  No time for obstacles, she mumbled, gathering her belongings, setting them against the oak door, a brown satchel, a paper bag lunch, and some loose newspaper to cover her floor mats in her car.  Walking straight into it, her eyes shuttered close, except flashing them open only to squint at whatever snow covered her vehicle.  Her car parked halfway down the block searching for it this time, she hardly knew if going to work would be worth it, but she reflected for a moment on Ms. Piggle Wiggle, a book she had read from childhood, and a character who stressed the importance of looking at a challenge as a way to compete against one self.  The Snow was her obstacle today.  Setting her blue stop watch on her wrist for three minutes.  She said, "Time it. Three, two, one. Go!"  She dashed around the car, throwing heavy piles of snow over her shoulder, passing the frozen water higher and higher on the snow bank.  "Hey, watch it!" "Sorry, Mr Periwinkle."  She caught his eye, and he smiled at her.  "Some one's busy this morning." He exclaimed. Would she allow this non-competitor defeat her best time?  Luckily, Periwinkle had his own agenda squirming off in ten long steps that the girl left for him.  

She checked her stop watch, twenty seconds, she shoveled faster, making the mistake of using her gloved hand to wipe off the snow.  Damn! she stated.  10 seconds left, she galloped four steps before opening her drivers door and landing, thud into the seat.  "Made it!" she exclaimed.

10 minute free write

   

Finally Misty made her way over to the deli's buffet where they were serving pita bread, hummus and various versions of curry. A couple cooks were hurridly serving gyros, they were stuffing the pocket breads at a rapid pace, and stopped momentarily to look over at Misty from underneath their paper, chef hats. The Arabian curls barely made it into their hats and cascaded across their foreheads.

They took her in, smiled and mumbled something in Arabic to the owner, who spoke to them, smiling all the more to Misty's displeasure of not knowing the language. Derrick took two steps closer to Misty, hoping he'd turn away their glances. But it was to no avail, they stared at her animatedly, it was almost like reflecting on a cool dream they had the night before. Once seated, with Misty’s choice gyro in a rectangular square shaped styro foam plate, Misty poked Derrick cordially reminding them of the Arabs and their looks at her, playfully as Derrick cajoled her back, poking her rib cage. “I guess you want to head back” stated Derrick casually after a few moments. To Derrick’s disappointment, she was looking at the wall clock that had a spaghetti sized splatter to the right of it, probably left overs from some hindu kids messing around, a small family with kids sat nearby. “I, myself plan to get a coffee, after I drop you off.”

                 

10 minute free write

    10 minute free write with Derrick at a Coffee shop

I

SOMEHOW- BY CHANCE, Misty convinced Derrick to drop her off downtown. Her last words before leaving him, “I’m glad were friends”. Friends, the word hung in the air like an unreachable cloud. Derrick tried to cool off from this intimate encounter. He knew the perfect place; his favorite coffee shop, down the corner from his home. It also served as his spy hangout, he’d people-watch there, got more ideas for characters in his choreography. He could get a cup of coffee almost anywhere, but most shops would close earlier than he liked. He asked Sheila, the shop’s owner, why he allowed the shop to be opened so late, sometimes closing around two or three in the morning and Sheila told him it brought more people in and with more people meant more money for the shop. Derrick often came in around two in the morning, but when he did, he always noticed it filled with what Derrick called “Granola people”, activists and tree huggers, young students in corduroys hunched over heavy texts, studying late into the night, sometimes fallen asleep over their books. The amount of people that filled this spot was absolutely amazing, they parked there little cars all along the parking lot, flowing into the areas where Burger King and Subway customers normally parked.

Sheila is efficient; she knew how to get things done on time. She ran a tight shop and made sure that people knew it. She ironed everything she wore even her aprons. When she wasn't pouring coffee for customers, she was making sure someone in her coffee shop was. Sheila placed Derrick’s favorite coffee drink in his hands with a hard push and ran off. He noticed her wiping off her forehead, tossing a towel over her shoulder, and putting some business cards in front of the barista's area, making sure they were perfect aligned with the case that held them.  

Two minute free write on The School

Two Minute free write on The School

Inside the Cesar Chavez building, 20 or so teachers could be seen walking briskly to a church.  "Excuse me.  Excuse me. Can you please tell me where I can find the Rec Room?"  "On the fifth floor on your right, you can't miss it, there's a black wool blanket over the door," spoke a teacher without stopping.  "Okay  got it." The teachers started pulling loose clothing over their heads. "Run," said the head of the pack, each of them picked up their pace and a clambor of hoofs was heard on the way to the convent. 

The visiting teacher made her way back to the school.    

10 minute Free Write

 10 minute Free Write

"Okay, Mr. Kelly, investigators have found out that most of the cars were found at a junk yard in  New Ulm. You said that this place looks like a school. The junk yard is located near a highway. You said you could smell the pine weeds and the harsh smell of the pavement."

"Yes, I remember saying that," said Kelly. "When I walked there the first time, I thought for sure I seen a ghost of a child teetering on a see-saw, but it was a hot day I could have been hallucinating; what with the fresh smelling cement." Kelly continued to describe his account.
"I know I should have turned away once I heard a boom inside but the place had a hypnotizing effect on me. It was red and had an organized feel to it, so I stepped inside. I felt at home at that junk yard compared to any other junk yard I had ever been to. It reeked of dirt, dust and grime. It wasn't like most junk yards which were dark and forlorn. No this place was exciting. 
 When I entered, I noticed counter tops that were laid out on the entire front half of the interior. On, one of the countertops closest to the entrance held a sign marked "check out" and behind the center counter tops were customer service representatives, all in black uniforms. And behind one of them sat chirpy girl with black micro braids. I mean, When was the last time you ever seen a girl man handling a junk yard?!" exclaimed Kelly.
 By that time Hendrickson was inside the shop, imagining it with Kelly, walking beside him. “Okay, so it’s an amazing shop, and organized." Interrupted Hendrickson, not seeing the point.
“Yeah, but don’t you see? That’s not the half of it”, continued Kelly. “If you can believe it, this place also had art work. Auto parts made into sculptures shaped like robots. They strode in between the counter tops at their cut off points.
I kept wandering closer to the robot shaped figurines, hoping to identify each part of the human like sculptures.

 

10 minute Free Write

10 minute Free Write

Yasmine's mother wears a big, black burka

and is so religious,
She'll show up
to the mosque

Every day of Ramadaan  

Even if she has to go to every single mosque

in town.

Dropping off her laundry in northeast

to pray

at Dar Faruq

Where the mosque is in renovation

Saw dust shows up on her feet

She walks slowly to the closet sized back room

To pray

Opening a plywood door

careful to not get cut from a wood chip.

On sunday nights, she'll show up

even though

most prayer goers leave excuses

not praying, because their work schedule.

She'll show up to Masjid De Norde

The one with french doors, that open to desolate rooms

Except for a red dramatic carpet.

And an older women whose been sitting there a while

gives Tasbeeh

And says prayers with her silver tinned lunch box

getting cold, waiting for the time

when dawn comes

to open her fast

She'll show up to mosques

with women sectionals

that are so overly crowded and loud

that the women try to speak in soft whispers

but the children over power them

Their will to move and prance about

is eager shame

to parents who wrestle

to sit them down

Pushing their all too mature scarves and telling them

they'll go home soon

to sleep.

Two Minute Free Write

Two minute Free Write
Friday,the girl saw the elevator rising to the top of the floor. Mu-ong, cri-ank, cri-ank. The man saw her before she saw him.  He moved back into the elevator behind the buttons, behind the metallic gold tape that aligned the door frame.  She walked in. 
 "Why, hello! Didn't know anyone else was in here." He looked at her peevishly.  She adjusted her white blouse that hung off her shoulder and stammered her feet. 
 "Oh, my God, Oh my God!"  She uttered frantically and popped a Xanax from a loose compartment in her purse.  The man was beginning to slide further into the elevator trying to blend into its walls.

One minute Free Write

One minute Free Write
Walk,walk
Walk faster, you imbecile
We're on an escalator,
so I can walk slow
walk, walk 
walk, you say
How bout I fall
than you can pay

One Minute Free Write

One minute Free Write
Waiting, waiting waiting
me
Waiting waiting waiting
pee
I gotta go, I've gotta go
Let me in 
I gotta go
Waiting, waiting, waiting please
You drunk a$$ bastard
I gotta pee!

30 sec Free Write

30 sec Free Write
Fall, Fall
I'm falling down.
No your not
You're on the ground
Fall, Fall
You're falling down
No, I'm not, I'm pushing you down.

10 Minute Free Write

10 Minute Free Write
Camp Tanadoona #Milky Way Galaxy #Fat Kid
"Stop it" she said.  Willard poked her with the pine needed the fifth time that day.  Being the short girl at camp made her the likely victim.  "Stop it, stop it" she screamed once again.  If he wasn't so stalky, she'd push the fat kid over, get her brothers to beat em' up.  But as it was, her brothers were too fascinated in the camp to notice her.  Camp Tanadoona was a week long camp away from home.  Which meant that if she didn't find a way to beat him soon, she'd be tortured the whole week by fat Willard and his grubby hands.  How he found a way to keep hold of a pine needle thinner than any food he indulged was beyond Tina. 
 "Don't worry, we'll get him." yelled Alice, who was sitting next to her. She was screaming out loud to one of the camp's theme songs, "Camp. Tanadoona Camp. Tanadoona Camp. Tanadoon Camp."
"How can you say that?" Tina scream back. Alice tempered her voice at the song's second key change and told her, her plan to get back at Willard.
 "You see... every year, the camp counselors meet at a cabin called "Milky Way" .  Funny the way the camp named each of its cabins after the constellations in the galaxy.  Alice and Tina were in "The Big dipper", that's how they met.
 "Go on." said Tina. "Well, you see... "The Milky Way" is where the counselors put on skits and games for the campers." Alice explained.  "Now, we'll just have Willard volunteer for the "Dare You to Laugh" game.  In the game, camp counselors try to come up with ways to get the campers to laugh and if they do, the campers are singled out and forced to play "Truth or Dare". We'll dare him to tell us who he likes.  "Who he likes-?  "Don't worry, he won't say you, and when he mentions another other girl at camp, we'll say 'I dare you to kiss her', and when he can't we'll taunt him, and remind him of this fact the rest of his stay at camp."