Student CAMP: Going Legal
|by Kristen Minor|
It's official: I am now an adult. Yes, readers, I have finally reached my 18th birthday. I was expecting to wake up on June 20th feeling more responsible and solemn. (Not to mention a few inches taller. I think I was just setting myself up to be disappointed.) Here's what actually happened:
On my birthday, I woke up at 4 in the morning. I have never done this before, and I doubt I ever will again. Trust me, folks, staying up until 4:00 a.m. is much more satisfying. The point of waking up at this ungodly hour was to begin an ever so romantic day with my girlfriend by watching the sunrise together. Because this is my life, things immediately began to go askew. At about 4:15, Kelly called me. She told me that her mother no longer wanted her to go out with me that day. We should have expected itKelly's mother is not going to be in PFLAG parades anytime soon, and she essentially thinks that I am a tool of Satan who led her daughter astray. I'm just that good. Kelly then informed me that this was going to be my best birthday ever, damn it, and that I should come get her. As I am putty in her hands, I leaped in the car to comply. (Besides, her mom had promised. And it was my birthday, damn it.)
While driving to Ellendale, I began contemplating my newly 18 self. I can do so many things now: buy cigarettes, buy pornography, rent a hotel room, vote... never mind that I don't really want to do any of those things except vote. (I could also make that very special trip to Dragon's Lair... um... never mind.) The thing that concerned me most about being legal as I was barreling up Route 1 was if Kelly's parents could charge me with kidnaping. I doubt they're that creative, though.
As she dove into the car, Kelly uttered the words I was longing to hear: "Happy birthday, honey. Drive!" And away we sped.
By the time we got to Rehoboth, the sun was already beginning to rise. I should mention that if one is looking for excellent parking on Rehoboth's main street, arriving at dawn is definitely the way to go. Kelly and I went down to the beach and sat holding hands as the sun became more and more visible. She even kissed me once or twice, in full view of the older lesbian couple and several straight families that were on the beach with us. It took some convincingI had to tell her that anyone who was crazy enough to get up and watch the sun rise would not be shocked by two girls kissing. Even though I was in a lack of sleep coma, I will admit that it was very romantic. I kept on expecting the fuzzy pink bunnies of teen lesbian cuteness to come and shower us with rainbow flowers. Did I mention that I am not a morning person?
As someone who isn't a breakfast eater, I was surprised to discover that I was ravenous. Since no place was open that early, Kelly and I walked the length of the boardwalk to pass the time. All of the sudden, there were people. Not just any peoplethese were the morning joggers, power walkers, and bicyclists. I was terrifiedI thought that we were going to be run over by a crazed biker.
After a breakfast of bagels, Kelly and I wandered around Rehoboth. We purchased three hermit crabsone for me, to be a lesbian lover for the one I already own, and two for Kelly. I've become enamored with hermit crabs. I have no idea why. I'm going to take Clea and Angua (don't ask about the names, it's a long story) to college with me. I hope that they, along with my rainbow flag, will scare off any potential roommates. I like my privacy. Kelly's hermit crabs, in case you are curious, are named Melissa and Leslie. (She asked me for lesbian names, and that was the best I could do, okay?) I know that Lori was a little surprised to see hermit crab madness at one of her tables when she walked in the courtyard, but hey, all in good fun.
All in all, it was a wonderful morning. No angst, no gay bashersjust smooching and hermit crabby goodness. What more could a girl ask for?
Today when I was in the courtyard I was asked who would be next year's youth columnist for letters. I'm not sure how much writing I'll be able to do next yearDartmouth doesn't end until relatively late, and I'm not going to be around for most of next summerso a new columnist isn't out of the question. I hope that some freshman at one of the local high schools is inspired to use this space. To be honest, I don't know how much I represent the "youth community" anymore. I'm not in high school anymore, I've been out of the closet for ages, and I've never really faced hard core homophobia. I'm lucky. Also, I, like every other gay person, would like to forget the evil homophobic high school years. What you readers need is a deeply closeted freshman that will give you buckets and buckets of angst! Er... maybe not. Anyway, if any under 18 readers of this column are interested, drop me a line by way of the CAMP office.
I should mention that I have decided to keep my pseudonym of Kristen Minor. My parents (read: those who pay my tuition) would be happier if I kept this name. All they ever said, however, is that I had to use the pseudonym in this column. So, my real name will continue to grace any other page of Letters. Obey the letter of the law, if not the spirit, I've always said.
On a closing note, I would like to wish Steve, one of my favorite fathers, a happy 50th birthday. To the rest of you- happy 4th of July, and don't do anything I wouldn't do.That eliminates nothing.
Kristen may be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 10, No. 8, June 30, 2000.