Ski camp. It’s difficult enough to navigate on its own. I went to Tumba Tabere since I was seven, so you will most likely need my advice.
BEHOLD, you will encounter people you will start developing actual human feelings for. Keep your skis uncrossed. That’s not a metaphor. I’m not that kind of person.
Don’t get involved in just nothing. As inattentive as you are, make friendships that last a lifetime and play all the freaking games. Who cares if you’re on a never-ending quest of becoming socially acceptable?
Keep your weirdism to the max. Shenanigans, my young pupils, is the best word for what you’re entering.
Don’t imply you’ve been to other camps than Tumba. Off with your head.
No funny nicknames. Forget it. I’m the one who spent two years struggling with ‘Nobody’ or ‘Banana’.
If you don’t like potatoes, just say you’re allergic to them.
Don’t think that it will suck. It’s a premature assessment. Your feet have yet to touch the carpet.
Don’t over exaggerate with puns. Sometimes they’re not pun (hah, hypocritical humor – what have I become).
Girls, if you ended up with a roommate that brought over the satchel of medieval torturing devices that she calls her make up kit, tell Ana. Regarding the last one, if that certain girl brought an eyelash curler, relax. It’s not for selling your eyeballs to the Black Market. Tell Ana. Also, if you have a problem, remember to always tell Ana.
Prepare for gastronomical surprises. Ergo, tiramisu.
You are talking about a group of intellects who enjoy water fights! Uh, yeah, I seem to be implying horseback riding camp.
If Mustafa ever tries to sell you and makes a discount, take it as a compliment.
To all the admins in internet groups (or members who post a lot), prepare for a Facebook notif. brainstorm. Invite your friends, whom you have most likely met from the Tumba camp three years ago or some bookshop. Either way, do it.
You’re preparing your Sherri Hill dress for the party? No! Have two spare party time clothes. If you dance it away, you’re gonna sweat it away. ‘It’s not going to be fun.’ Are you even human?!
Don’t bring an encyclopaedia about cats or something. Just something that you can enjoy, casually. The Hunger Games. Paper Towns. Whatever.
Add some decoration to the room. Six days basically means one month in Ozmen.
Bring your stuff, but don’t mess around. Bring your Converse so you can hang around inside the huts without sweating your feet off.
Thinly veiled anger management issues in the moment? Talk it out. It’s just your hate for potatoes.
First impressions don’t really matter.
Bring more than the list tells. Know your style and preferences.
Selfies. The best way to make them is with Mustafa photo-bombing. The back of the milk box isn’t a scientific article.
Stop thinking about what they put in the food. Savour it.
PHONES FREE ZONE. NO PHONES HERE.
Your parents are struggling with teaching you ski. It doesn’t work. Same here, until I went to camp… it’s okay if you don’t know. You’re not Usain Bolt to run like that on the snow. You can fall. Make yourself at home.
This is the best winter in your lives. You’re a dandelion seed floating in the cotton candy scented air. That little fantasy bubble breaks when you grow up.
Embrace Tumba as long as you have time.