Being Bullied Apparently NEVER ENDS

 ATTENTION READERS: I HAVE HAD TO CHANGE THE NAMES USED IN THIS STORY

 THIS IS NOT A NEW POST.  I WAS THREATENED WITH A LAWSUIT BECAUSE THE REAL "FIONA" CAN'T FIGHT HER OWN BATTLES AND HAS HER HUSBAND LEAVE A COMMENT ON MY BLOG THREATENING ME WITH LEGAL ACTION.  BULLIES AND APPARENTLY NEVER CHANGE, AND GUESS WHAT?  I KNOW MY RIGHTS.  

HERE IS THE COMMENT:
Well, clever people. (Name withheld)  married an attorney so stand by for a massive claim for defamation of character based on this false and outrageous posting. We have copies, so a delete makes no difference to the claim. But if you don't delete this posting Alison within 24 hours, we will claim punitive damages. 

First of all, my name is A-L-L-I-S-O-N.  I am within my first amendment rights telling a story about how I was bullied and mistreated.  Sorry that you can't handle that, and I am also sorry you can't be an adult and communicate in an adult way, with an apology, which I am owed.  I graduated from Pepperdine with a concentration in Constitutional Law so bring your claim, defamation of character will be next to impossible to prove, considering this is the internet and I am protected by the first amendment.  You are a bully, just like your wife, and you deserve each other.

The old post "amended" to protect the bullies:

So I think I may have mentioned I went to Catholic school.  Well, went summers came around, something had to be done with me, because both my parents worked full-time.  Our family was too spread apart to really "babysit" me, so sometimes I went to Day Camp.

The Novato YMCA had a Day Camp program for kids of elementary-school age, and my mom informed me I would be spending the duration of my summer enjoying their company.  This horrified me.  I much preferred annoying my cousins, bothering my dad at work, and being home alone at a unreasonable age.

I was very, very afraid of having to be introduced into another "social" situation like school.  It was hard enough for me to find a few freaks to sit in some bushes with, now I had to do it all over again?  I was mortified.  I think I cried hysterically the entire drive to the building.

My mom dropped me off, as she always did, with assurance I would be fine.  I was introduced to my director, my counselor and given a color-coded t-shirt for my age group.  I bought a Minute Maid juice box and hid in the locker room.

All the children looked hostile as hell.  There was no real order to activities, I saw some playing ping-pong, some playing outside on a playground, most were inside coloring or just wreaking general havoc.  I think I stayed in that locker room/restroom for the duration of that day, and many days after that.

Fields trip were the worst, crammed on some old school bus, heading to Angel Island or Alcatraz, some very cold and windy tourist spot, which in my mind, was obviously lousy with kidnappers.  I think that again, I made friends with a girl who picked her nose and ate it, and some chubby boy who sweated too much.

We were always forced to do this ridiculous chant they had made up to encourage us:

"Laura Scudders peanut butter, Day Camp, Kinder Camp, Hawaaaaaaaiiiiian Punch!" What in the hell was that about?  I wanted to escape, hop the fence of the YMCA and to run out to the Northridge Mall and hide in my favorite store, Rave.

Then one day, something crazy happened.  This super popular girl from my school, whom we will refer to as Fiona Cantfightherownbattles, signed up for Day Camp.  I knew because I saw her name on the daily sign in sheet on the front desk.  Then, I saw her, just as I had done that first day, sitting alone just outside the restroom.  I figured she would probably look the other way, ignore me, or make a snide remark- the same way she treated me at school.

Instead, she ran towards me like we were long lost lovers.  She gave me a hug! She explained how afraid she was, that she didn't know anyone else there and that she couldn't "believe my mother stuck me in THIS place."

I was so happy to finally have someone to talk to, I gave her a tour.  I showed her all the high points: the vending machine, the brand new computers, and of course, the library.  I showed her all the low points too: the area where the birds will poop on your head (I learned that one from personal experience), places where mean boys would try to corner you for your snack money, and the very intimidating area of the multipurpose room where the popular girls hung out.  I explained how I had no idea what their names were, or where they went to school, since they had made it pretty clear they wanted nothing to do with me.

Fiona and I spent the day together, playing games and getting excited about our field trip to the city pool the next day.  I was so happy to know I would not be alone, singing another stupid song about peanut butter or some crap, all alone.  I decided to save her a seat on the bus the next day.

She sat next to me, but as soon as one of the popular girls asked her about her bathing suit and coordinating bag, she switched seats.  Then, when we got to the pool, she swam with me for all of thirteen seconds before the "cool girls" asked her to play "mermaids" with them.  I swam over to where they were, and tried to join in.  As far as I could tell, "mermaids" meant you held your nose underwater and swam around trying to look cute.  I imagined myself, just like the other girls, swimming so delicately and beautifully.  I came up for air, those girls were gone.

I grabbed my towel and headed for the locker room.  I saw Fiona trailing the popular girls, talking to the leader.  I called out to her, and she glaringly pointed to the changing room.  As they started to change into dry clothes, the conversation continued.  The ringleader of the bitches was going on and on.

"I JUST KNEW we would be friends!  When I first saw you and I was like, I NEED to talk to that girl.  She's so cool!"  She was handing Fiona a pixi stick like it was a fucking award.  I will never forgive myself for opening my mouth after that moment.  I said, "What did you think of me when you first saw me?"

They all burst into laughter, including Fiona.  Laughter like Jim Carrey on In Living Color laughter.  Laughter like the pain of her words about to come.

"You don't want to know what I thought of you when I first saw you."

They then turned, and walked away, taking turns making fun of my question and of course, laughing at their answer.  I don't think I need to tell you how that made me me feel.  I don't think I need to tell you I begged my mother to take me out of that camp, and she did.  I don't think I need to tell you that as soon as school started again, Fiona didn't speak to me.