I haven't been a teenage girl for long time. You know, now that I am a newly minted <a href="http://www.karolinkabulgaria.com/2011/05/17/30-things-life-in-bulgaria-has-taught-me/" target="_blank">thirty-something</a>.

Just to put things in perspective, I was 19 years old 11 years ago and I was 13 years old in 1994. I got my driver's license at 16 and a few months--I passed traffic safety education with flying colors riding my bike to school every afternoon that summer in the 90 degree Fahrenheit heat for something like 6 weeks to the high school to take a class and to log hours of driving practice. At just barely 18, I graduated from high school and I spent my last year of being a teenager at college.

But now that I am a high school teacher, I am surrounded by teenagers and I regularly find myself thinking: I wouldn't ever want to do-over being a teenager. Being a teenager is angst-riddled hard work. From school to boys to parents and friends, it is not easy to be a teenage girl.

This said after two weeks at summer camp, I was reminded that being a teenage girl can also be lots of fun.

There was lots of excitement over new (cute) boys from all over Bulgaria and of course, plenty of speculation over who liked whom. The boys from Varna and Burgas seemed to garner the most attention. Ah, summer tans. I guess some things never change.

There was enough nail polish at camp to open a couple of salons and girls were endlessly changing their nail color. They were painting on little flowers or other nail art. But the newest trend a nail polish trend is called graffiti which is a type of nail polish that somehow cracks as it dries to reveal the first coat of nail polish you'd previously painted thus you have a two tone effect and no manicure is identical.

There was nervous excitement and energy about first kisses. There were whispered exchanges about who was going to kiss whom and when this would happen. And all of this created lots of giggling, smiling and secret sharing.

Most interestingly without much if any questioning, girls told me that their perfect boy would have brown hair and bright blue eyes because this a rare combination.  They told me about their desires to go home and eat at their favorite restaurants.  They shared dreams of traveling abroad. Of university.  Of what life could be like in Bulgaria if there were different and the implication was better politicians making better decisions.