Relay in Bullet Points

> The second we stepped onto the field in the morning we were soaked through up to our shins. It was cold and wet under the Golden Gate Bridge.

> A survivor sang a gospel song at which everyone on the committee cringed due to the fact that this is a non-religious event in SAN FRANCISCO!

> As we cheered the survivors during their lap, Christie teared up, missing her mother who died of breast cancer. I called my mom immediately.

> During the survivor lap, a woman on a bike actually stopped riding on the trail just to clap for the passing survivors. I wanted to hug this stranger.

> Amazing volunteers helped me accomplish everything I needed. So much so that I had volunteers to spare to the rest of the relay committee.

>As I introduced some of the current legislation to relayers, I met a crazy old gay cowboy and talked to his friend about how people back home are scared of San Francisco because they know everyone out here is right and they're scared of the truth. (Oh how the people back home would laugh.)

> A friend and I were ambushed by a strange man asking where he could hook up with a dying cancer patient who had medical marijuana to spare so he wouldn't have to go back onto opiates. He then proceeded to tell us over the next half hour how plastic bottles are causing cancer.

> I met the woman who rejected an initial resume of mine so long ago because I lived too far away. She told me she was kicking herself now.

> A friend came and we hunted cute boys all evening.

> I learned that, unlike my past Relays, we would be sleeping at this event. I made a makeshift tent in the advocacy booth and prayed it wouldn't get too cold.

> We added glow sticks to the luminarias while entertaining the crazy gay cowboy.

> The cops came before luminaria to ask us when we would be turning down the music.

> One of the speakers bailed, so in a panic we decided I was singing at the ceremony instead.

> After everyone came up to get their glowsticks (the crazy gay cowboy took some sort of morbid pride in how many he took as he counted out the deaths of friends and family), I sang wobbily but proudly.

> The cops came back and issued a citation, stating that they had previously warned us about the noise (even though they had only asked us when it would stop). Rather than issuing it to the event or organization, they chose a person in whose name to put it. Crazy cops.

> We tried to have a conga circle with Joti, the guy who was supposed to be performing then. Nobody knew any of the songs. I knew one, so he pulled me up to dance with him. I sang badly and without knowing the words, but we had fun. Somehow at church camps we always knew a million songs to sing. People out here don't know the same songs we all do back home, though.

> I tried to curl up with my friend to stay warm, but it just didn't work. After dozing slightly and waking cold and wet, I woke up and found a fire. I drank amazing hot chocolate, met a girl from Doniphan (that's back home to you west coast folks), and listened to countless stories of drunken Vegas adventures from the guys with the fire.

> I went back to bed and fell asleep to my friend reading Seneca.

> Upon waking under the beautiful Golden Gate Bridge, I warmed up while listening to the Seneca essay I previously had missed, then learned we had raised over $28,000!!!!! in our tiny little Relay For Life.

Thank you so much to everyone who helped! Please let me know if you'd be interested in helping to make this event bigger and better next year!

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