Letters from camp

Emails from Jason and Jennifer and me during the Welch Chemistry Camp  in the Summer of 1998.  During that year, my friend Misty got married,  Dominique Monceanu was the Olympic darling, our journalism teacher got falsely accused of starting a porn site, and I became a woman- I mean, learned to play chess.

From Jace:

Dear Jasmine,

I don’t know how you got this email address little girl, but I don’t appreciate being written to. I went to Target to print out the list of gifts Misty wants for her wedding, and there are 10 pages in 10 pt font, maybe 9 pt.

I hope you are having fun in all those chemestry classes. I wish I were as good as chemestry as you are. But alas the only thing that remotely testifies to any chemical ability in me is this cheap award I was given in Geneva, Switzerland.

But enough about my mediocrities, let’s talk about yours. Have you lost those extra 56 pounds yet? Has your eyesight corrected itself? Have you become popular (popularity in THAT camp doesn’t count)?

We got ourselves a new journalism teacher. Mr. Comstock emailed me and told me it was because of the modeling thing. He gave Amanda a portfolio and told her to get her parents to sign something. But she didn’t want them to find out so she hid it. And they found it and thought he was starting a porno page, and they told the school and confiscated his film and asked him if he was having affairs with students. Of course they couldn’t find anything and he quit.

Then they hired this new teacher and asked Mrs. Harwood to stay without pay, so she got mad and quit. And now it’s just the new teacher, but Amanda says she’s better than all of them. I broke into school files and altered my grades so I would fail chemestry  so I can repeat the year and meet her. But the school is willing to give me credit because of this stupid noble prize I got. This award is the worst thing to happen to me!



Dear Jason

When is Misty’s wedding? I thought it was next month, but then your email made me think it’s this month. It’s not this month, is it? My job is here to help synthesize new organic compounds.

Someday the process may be used by companies to make drugs to cure breast and ovarian cancer.

So don’t worry Jason, I’m doing my best to save you. Don’t give up hope yet. Well, I bought you a small gift. I wasn’t sure if you wanted anything X files because

I didn’t know what you already had an I am poor.  Laundry costs 75 cents here, drying is 50 cents.

 As for your questions, let’s just say that now I’m here, my complexion is beautiful, my figure voluptous, my hair full smooth and silky, and my teeth prefectly pearly white

 and straight, my eyes are kinder, my smile more genuine. Sniffing ether does something to you, I guess.

I gotta go. The librarian said something about me infecting the keyboards with the plauge again. Which reminds me, my roommate is starting to swell up and is a funny shade of blue.

I wonder what’s wrong. I miss my puppies. i need to feed them as soon as I get home. I know I should have told someone to, but I don’t trust the neighbors all that much.

They might skip one day or something.

Well, I have to go write to jennifer.


 Jasmine Quynh Dao. —————–

Uh Jasmine,

Thanks for asking if the wedding was this month or not, cause I thought it was and it wasn’t.

I was going to go tomorrow. I’m glad I have you around.

I was moved at work to the food area. They yell at me for eating the food. But their lawyers say they have to keep my appetite away from the Spectracide.



Dear Jason, Oh boy. I was taking a shower last night when I heard one of the girls there say so, did you ask Brian about jasmine? And the other girl goes, ohmygod, I asked him and he said isn’t it obvious? And I was standing there in the bathroom, feeling very embarassed and scared, because, like, now they know about my extra toe? No, just kidding about the toe. He’s a pretty nice guy, and we wrote a song together. He’s going to MIT so I might have me a rich husband by the end of the summer. His face is okay. You get used to looking at it after awhile. Jason, Jason, Jason. What should I do? I don’t know. I hAVE TO GO. Write back alright? ——–


Dear Jennifer,
I like the work we do here. We have homework, but more emphasis on just reading
stuff. We're doing college level work. How's the family doing?
What did you do for your birthday? Make sure mom eats enough. Remind dad to
exercise and not eat too much. And you, you know what to do.
Love you all very much. Don't worry about me, it's okay here. Like prison.
From Jennifer
I forgot what I was going to say.  My Princeton Review class is at Northland Christian School.
Dominque Monceanu goes there regularly, so I wrote, "Go Shannon Miller! You're our
hero!" "Kerri Strug is the bomb." Amy Whatever, we don't know you, but you
are too cool!" "Monce-what? WHo? That loser," on the walls. Dad checked my
puctuation on  this e-mail (sigh).
Boredo. I'll go call you.

Published on April 10, 2010 at 9:51 pm  Comments (2)  

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2 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. Ha! These are awesome, those were the days.
    I always wondered what happened to Mr. Comstock…

  2. i forgot i started this page….

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