Holly Blog 13: Flying Pepper

After a relatively long day, I had been looking forward to my shower for several hours. I finally jump in and washed off all the camp nature/dirt. Bliss! Then I noticed something. I had visitors. Very strange little moving things. I was so confused. About the size of 3 kernels of pepper glued together, these little things had a mind of their own flying and walking around for no reason but to cause angst and not pure bliss in my shower. I did some Sherlock Holmes deduction. What could these things be? I’ve never seen anything them before and my hand just automatically started squashing the little buggers. After about 4, I figured it out.

At about 15, I quit for I didn’t see any more. “Anymore what?” you ask.

Anymore baby flies. Apparently flies have sexual intercourse just like humans and zebras. The gargantuan flies from Blog #11 have reproduced and the outcome is flying pepper.

Yay camp.

Blog 12: There’s a groundhog outside my door and I can see its intestines.

A somewhat eventful Tuesday, the 28^th of June. I had an “I’m proud of Jenaya” moment today. When I was really little from like birth to about ageeeeee..22, nature just wasn’t my thing. I told Jesus that as soon as He decided to clean up all the dirt, I would enjoy being outside. He never listened to my suggestion even though He knows how smart I am. I didn’t ever like grass touching me—I loathed that feeling. But today, I have matured. I embraced the grass kissing my legs and was actually ok knowing that my legs weren’t squeaky clean with Lever 2000 residue.

AND! I saw a bunny while I was going on a nature walk. Technically it was a hike, but that h-word makes me want to get in the fetal position on a nice pillow in a Hilton Hotel and whimper.

I had the most DELICIOUS hamburger today. I used to not eat burgers ever (I’m feeling quite nostalgic today). They were just meat for no reason, but now, I like them. But only with a high volume of onions and an embarrassing amount of cold ketchup. Not warm ketchup. It must be cold to complement the temperature of the hot meat patty. My heart was happy.

I walked out of our cabin dwelling today and noticed a brown, furry thing not moving. I got a closer look and saw the tender unsouled creature—a poor groundhog. It was pretty gross and I thought there were worms under it, but realized it was intestines. Gu-ROSS!! I’m hoping that Jesus will send the Archangel Michael down to get this poor site before breakfast tomorrow cuz it’s pretty yucky. Since I am an expert in animalogy, my hypothesis is that it was carried by a hawk to be a scrumptious dinner (like my burger) and it got dropped. Then it got squished by some tire tracks. I haven’t seen the new and improved groundhog with the tire tracks, but I’m sure we shall behold of it on the morrow.

So on the happy note, I shall end this meandering.

Holly Blog 11: Gargantuan Flies

I turned around and there were no flies. I turned back around and there were gargantuan flies. Not just 2 or 3, but 20. Why, Lord, why?! My theory is they came up through the vent about 10 squares from my slumber residence bunk. Lucky me. My personal theory is that they’ll just die by themselves. They fly around like they’re too old to even care so they don’t take that much brain-work to kill. They just feel like it’s their calling to annoy me and pretend their helicopters as they divebomb my face. Well, only one divebombed my face, but one is one too many.

One of the staffers donated a small portion of her existence to killing about 10 of them and another killed about 7 or 8. I’m going to invest in a bird for our cabin to eat them. Anybody know of a peacock owner in Michigan? Do peacocks even eat flies? Text me with any details you find out…PLEASE!

Holly Blog 10: Google is GREAT!

On Friday, I was really feeling that I needed to go to church. I wanted to be around some believers in Jesus and I wanted to hear some Jesus music—I needed some bass and DRUMS in my life. I like drums and drummers—especially if they’re brown and muscly and cute…but of course that’s not the only reason I go to church…especially Mount Zion in Nashville. Heavens no!

I digress.

So I got on Google the same way I found the job that got me where I am now. For the job, I typed “summer camp counselor jobs 2011.” I figured since that worked well to find me a job, sure it could find me a church. On to Google again.

“churches in Holly, MI” Didn’t allude to churches that had drums and bass—no offense to my Presybeterian and Lutheran readers. So I tried

“Baptist churches in Holly, MI.” Bingo. The first site was for The River Church. It sounds cool. Great website. Great graphics. Looks cool. I emailed the pastor and said that I was new, am staying on Milford Road, and would like to come to church. I got an email back and they said they’d come get me on Sunday morning. We set up a time and just like that, I was on my way to church.

The service was nice. I got my drums, my bass, great songs, and got to be around believers. I loved people watching. They are the same everywhere—with minor differences. The drummer looked like he loved Jesus and was pretty attractive, too which was…nice :)

After the regular service, they had another “service.” It happened to be Biker Sunday, which was their community event. There were 300-400 motorcycles and people EVERYWHERE—like roaches. They had a pork roast and hot dogs, baked beans, and chips. I don’t eat pork, so I made my lunch on hamburger buns, baked beans, and I just pollinated the dessert by trying every 5^th or 6^th dessert on the 18-foot dessert table. Gotta loooooveeeee church picnics.

They had a band playing for a bit, then they had their main speaker come to the stage. He looked like a former rocker/motorcycle rider with bleach blond hair down to his shoulders. I don’t know if either were actually true. He was pretty cool and an acclaimed sword swallower. He faked us out at first with the bendable swords and the retractable ones. But then, he showed us how he was about to swallow a 18-inch, stainless steel sword. I didn’t believe it at first, but I have videos to prove it. He learned the art in India where lived for 2 years. He overcame all kinds of life fears and is now one of the 12 or 13 still living sword swallowers. He’s also been on America’s Got Talent, but that doesn’t really matter. I saw it live and I was amused…and a bit queasy after watching his show.

So yeah. That was my Sunday. I trusted complete strangers off a website. I’m glad they weren’t terrorists. Just please don’t tell my mother :)

JLP

P.S. I love you, Mom!!!

Holly Blog 9: An 18-hour nap, a 17-Cent Dinner, and A MURDER!!!

Attention everybody!

I have survived another week of camp in the woods with the mosquitoes (and now flies) and sweat and other stuff. I’m SO proud of myself for I feel like I am defeating a lot of my personal fears and learning to live within an environment that I do not prefer. I must tell you about my weekend for it was filled with a few adventures. First off.

I must share with my bloggers that I really, really, really like food. It makes me happy if it’s tasty and my heart skips a beat when it’s delicious. Mm-mm-good! Well, one of the other staffers and I were invited to another staffer’s house for dinner which was incredibly tasty. I got to wash and re-twist my hair in non-sulfur/rust water and got my belly full and my mind full with mindless TV-watching. It was refreshing. Then we returned home at about midnight.

My buddy for the evening and I were a little bit sleepy—actually a lot—and I decided to just not set my alarm clock. I just wanted to lay in bed and pretend that I was in a coma. So I drifted off at about midnight. I turned to look at my clock at 8AM and thought, “Eh. Not good enough,” and rolled over. Then I woke up again and it was 11. “That’s better” and then had to go pee. I crawled back in bed, counted the slats on the upper bunk and fell back asleep. In my dreams, my back started to feel a little misaligned so I woke up. “Wow! 1 o’clock. I need a snack.” I grabbed some salted almonds. Readjust, stretch….

4PM. A few Kashi cereal handfuls.

6PM. Yawn. Stretch.

“Why’s it look so hazy outside?” 7:30!!! Whoa.

By golly, I have slept not just all day, but for ¾ of the day. My back is broken, my legs are squishy, and my belly is pudgy and in need of some sustenance. Guilt rises to haunt me, but I squelch it immediately. I DESERVE to nap and chill for 18 hours, right? Of course I do.

I stumble into the kitchen trying to figure out how to walk again for it’s been a whole ¾ of a day since the last time I made any significant expendage (yes, I made up that word) of calories. I’ve got granola bars and a few almonds and my friend’s Ramen Noodles.

I must share with you my history of eating Ramen Noodles. There isn’t one. I kinda made a vow in my 9-year-old head that I would never get to the point in my life where I would need to eat Ramen Noodles. I was “boojie” with my gastronomic palate even at the tender age of pre-pubescence. But I had no choice. I read the directions. I found it funny how I can make 5-cheese lasagna or beef wellington or broccoli salad with little guidance and need to actually read the back of the noodles to figure out how to cook them. Oh the irony.

It wasn’t too difficult. Didn’t take long. My need for sustenance was satisfied. I felt the MSG and the wheat paste coat my esophagus all the way down to my colon. It was a great experience.

I also found it hysterical as I recollected upon my freshman year of college when I re-vowed to myself to never eat Ramen Noodles for I knew that it was a staple in the college diet. I wanted to be more creative. I kept that vow, but less than 7 weeks after graduating with my Master’s, I am in the woods of Holly chomping down on Noodles. Go figure.

I then with my fellow staffer compatriot went tramping through the woods to get to the lake to watch the sunset. We made it to with almost 90 minutes to spare. We sat down and discussed our amazement at being able to sleep an entire day and I was then schooled on the murders of Tupac and this guy named Biggie or Notorious B.I.G. from the 90s. Then out of nowhere came this moth. It was flying in a concentric circular pattern like one of his wings was handicapped and he was trying to compensate, but couldn’t. Then he just dive-bombed the water and starts fluttering there. I was in much distress cuz I didn’t want to watch a suffocating and drowning moth! I told Jesus, “Oh my golly! He’s in such pain. I can’t bear it!” And then BLIP! Just like that it was gone and replaced by a water bubble. I burst into hysterical laughs. OMG A FISH JUST MURDERED THE MOTH!! It was the coolest thing ever to see. We looked for the fish but he continued on to bigger and better things I guess cuz we never saw the murderer. The moth will go down into urban legend and hypotheses just like Tupac. R.I.P Mr. Moth and Mr. Tupac.

And just as the sun was about to set, we heard footsteps. Apparently there was a miscommunication between a renter of the camp and the camp owners. I don’t care to know all the details. I’m just a camp counselor. I am learning to stay in my realm of responsibility and not venture out into curiosity and gossip-able information. Most times I fail at this. So they were never a bother until now. We heard the footsteps and I rolled my eyes. “Not now!!! Just as the sun is about to set?!” They start clamoring with the canoes and paddles and messed up the smooth glassy meniscus of the water and then proceeded to chat and laugh and giggle. I proceeded to talk about them in my head.

“Oh no they didn’t just get into MY lake in MY boats during MY sunset and ruin MY private moment with MY nature in MY Michigan!!!” But alas they didn’t hear my mental bullets and kept enjoying the lake not knowing how close they were to a verbal assault with impending casualties. Oh well. I’ll have to try the sunset later.

I stayed awake until about 1:30 and headed off to bed to get ready for Sunday where another adventure awaited me.

Holly Blog 8: Internet and Blood Suckers

We the counselors found out a bit about our schedules for the first section of the summer. We instead of being camp counselors starting Sunday, we have an extra week due to some random stuff in administration with the school we will be doing the camp for. Because of the schedule change, yesterday, we actually got to go “into town.” It was the WEIRDEST thing to see all the electrical outlets and stop lights and illuminated signage and price tags and last but not least—

INTERNET!!

Bless the Lord! I got signed into Panera Bread’s free internet and got into my comfy seat with my toesies propped up. I had been planning for days on what I would do as soon as I got on the internet. I got onto Google and just froze. Such opportunity and so many things to pick. I just stared at my Google Search box for 45 seconds teeming with joy and couldn’t think of ANYTHING to type! I finally figured it out, but I was ashamed of my inability to think when faced with the whole world at my fingertips.

New thought. There are two different types of mosquitoes here. Smart and fast ones, and dumb and slow ones. I prefer the latter. And only for one reason. Because I can kill them. BAM! Gotcha. With a quick thwip of my middle finger and thumg flicking his corpse off my skin, I relish in the joy that fills my heart when I lure them onto my skin just for them to be smacked into smitherines by my palm. Success.

It’s the smart and fast ones that make me angry. These are also the ones from which I suffer all my impossible mosquito bites on my legs, arms, back, butt, and neck. I want to say the pests—“I’m sorry, but those places are to be enjoyed only by soap and my future hubby,” but they don’t listen. But at least it gives me a brilliant and no-lie reason to not have to shave for a while. I’m just gonna be so hairy and that will be a little bit embarrassing.

Last thought for the evening. I have lost my raincoat and it is now that it decides to rain. Yesterday we had a huge storm system come through and I don’t have my AMAZING L. L. Bean outer coat. I feel like such a whiner whenever I whimper coatless and wet through the woods. But I must be grateful. I am really praying it will just show up somewhere, but it’s not looking to wonderful at the moment.

Well, it’s 11:32pm on June 22, 2011. I’m sleepy and I must be alert for I was definitely dozing during the lecture today. I can’t let that happen again. Long live 8-hour sleep nights!

Holly Blog 7: Extra Virgin

Today I had to laugh at myself. Oh golly. I got CPR certified today and this is one of the only times I wish I was sexually active..well I suppose there’s more than just this one time, but for the time and purpose of this blog entry, we’ll pretend this is the only time.

I learned how to save a person, or at least how to keep them alive until medical professionals come to the scene of an unfortunate soul. I had to get down on the floor, put a plastic barrier breathing sheet over a person’s mouth, cover the unfortunate soul’s mouth completely with your mouth and breath “two short rescue breaths” until you can visibly see their lungs rise and fall twice. Then you’re supposed to do 30 compressions to the rib cage blah blah blah.

Well, because of my, um…lack of experience in the sexual category, I needless to say, had great trouble completely covering another person’s mouth with my mouth in order to save my manikin’s life. And then, I thought I could imagine Michael Ealy, or any of the guys with muscles and dreads on Madea’s shows being unconscious and I could be the one to save their lives, but that thought made me depressed cuz then their lives would be in my hands and their female friends would send me hate male if I killed them.

And then I had to stop giggling. I couldn’t believe my selfness was being trained on how to effectively do this. So what’s next? How to do other illicit activities? I think not. So I failed miserably at this and it’s all cuz I couldn’t effectively make out with my manikin. The only evidence I had that I attempted this feat was a very slobbery, still unconscious manikin.

Epic fail, Jenaya.

Blog 6: Danger! Danger!! DANGER!!!

Bucket List: Must visit the HOMES Lakes. Check.

When I was little, like most students in America, I learned about the HOMES lakes in Michigan. Lakes Huron, Ontario, Michigan, Erie, and Superior. I thought it was so cool that they were so big and blue and cold in my textbook, and knew that I wanted to go see them live and in person. Since I don’t really have an official “Bucket List” cuz I find the list slightly depressing for it means that I will one day die, going to visit the Lakes isn’t technically on there for the list doesn’t exist. Minor technicality. But on my imaginary bucket list, I was able to check one more thing off of it…excitement.

I felt slightly silly and out of balance for a couple reasons today. Firstly, I didn’t know where I was going. But that’s really not any different from any other day here in Michigan because I really don’t know where I am at all. I am such a huge map person because it’s like secret information that the privileged and designated “Map Reader” knows. Unfortunately for me, I still haven’t seen or touched a Michigan map and this fact makes me feel discombobulated.

Secondly, I was in the car for 4 hours. Not my most favorite activity. I decided to take a really long nap and was awakened by the driver when we got in eyesight of the Mackinac Bridge. I for the life of me couldn’t figure out why everyone was A) so excited to go see a dumb little bridge and B) why there wasn’t a bridge less than 4 hours away where we could each lunch. But when I saw the bridge, I immediately knew that this was epically cool. Like uber (pronounced OO-ber and it means “extra”) epic.

We got out of the car and one of the fellow staffers said “Welcome to Lake Michigan!” I thought to my little school girl days and my insides radiated with excitement for I was making a real life connection to what was once just school textbook facts. Me on Lake Michigan—one of the HOMES lakes. Uber epic.

We got out and found a grill and cooked burgers. We remembered all the things to cook with except for a spatula or grill turner so we used nature’s next best alternative—mini stick branches. It took some teamwork and creativity, but we were eventually satiated. After my burger, I really wanted another ½ of one and decided to split it with another co-worker. It was about 60% done when I turned away to go goof-off. I turned back around and there were some huge sea gulls eyeing my piece of meat. Before I knew it, they were PECKING AT MY BURGER!! Number A, Mr. Birdie: Aren’t you supposed to be eating wormies and little buggies? And Number B, Mr. Birdie: Why aren’t you dying from the flames of the grill?!?!?!! Not ok. He ate half of my burger! I stared at what was left and was afraid of getting bird or parasitic cancer and just threw the rest away in disgust and disdain.

THEN, as I was walking back to the car, I stooped to take a picture of a plaque under a light pole for the bridge and historic area that was less than 10 feet away from the car. I heard this “pth” sound like someone was spitting and then felt this ooey-gooey stuff on my left arm. I eyed it and let out a howl.

“OMG!!! A SEAGULL POOPED ON MEEEEE!!!!!!!”

I laughed so hard after my momentary silent-no-air-in-and-no-air-out with exasperated eyes affixed to my conundrum. HOW do I get such luck? I should sell my luck and make a profit. After getting cleaned off, I now have the best “one-ups” story at Mackinac Bridge.

I will say that even though I had perfect un-luck at Lake Michigan today, I did get to see a spectacular sight. This world is absolutely beautiful and I love taking it in. I also learned that dreams should never be given up upon. It may take years and years and years for them to come to pass, but they can. It’s very possible. Ssoooo..maybe I should dream for the male version of a Godiva bar with some character, a brain, and back muscles…Hmm… I jest, I jest..sorta.

I get to sleep in tomorrow. I’m SO excited. I think I might just start that process now. But, “now’ is a relative term. I still have to go potty and turn out the light.

Good night readers!

JLP

Holly Blog 5: Going Potty

I really felt like typing for a bit before going to bed but couldn’t really figure out what to type about til I went potty. It’s almost 1 am and I have to be awake again at 7:30 to go to this place called Mackinac (pronounced MACK-i-naw). Apparently they have great fudge and the third largest suspension bridge in the world. Everybody’s pretty excited; our first day trip. It’s 4 hours away so hopefully I’ll be able to get some Z’s in the car.

Anyway, when I went to go to the bathroom, I looked down in the toilet and realized immediately what I could write about. The water. Well water. Definitely not Aquafina, Dasani, or Brita-filtered water. Here, the water is tainted with sulfur and sprinkled with an indestructible amount of rust. Therefore, the toilets, sinks, and showers are colored orange. I’ve asked a million times if the water will make me die or turn orange or make me dementiated (yes, I made that up), and everybody tells me no, but I’m still not sure. The water smells so weird and it made me whiny for the first few days. I’m accustomed to it now, but it still grosses me out a bit if I think too much about it.

But I’m grateful that there is clear, running water. The availability of clean water for the world is very small so sulfur-smelling or not, I am happy to drink the water here. It’s just really annoying to look down in the toilet and think that someone forgot to flush the toilet after they peed cuz the water has stained the toilet orange.

That’s it for now.

Buenas noches de Holly, MI!

Holly Blog 4: Lake Growth, Jumanji, and Other Scary Things

I have a confession. I must tell you something about my past. This is very serious and it affects a large part of my life. Here goes. I get scared in horror films. You may be wondering what this has to do with camp life, but there’s a thin line of logic that we must transgress in order for you to understand another part of my selfness. It all started when I was 9 and watched my first horror film.

Jumanji

Stop laughing.

I tell people this story all the time and people look at me with their sympathetic or “you’re a punk” glances, but this is a terrible circumstance. I decided to watch a PG13 movie when I was 9—my first one and I wanted to make it a good one. Something just perfect. We had somehow rented Jumanji and after looking at the rating, I just knew I was woman enough at 9 years to watch this movie. I turned it on and whilst almost peeing on myself at different parts of the movie, I finished it and had a heart attack during the credits. I haven’t seen the movie since because I’m still scared of it, but I do remember the scariest part was when a plant grew in the living room and started coiling around a screaming person and dragging them to their doom. It was just not ok.

That began my fear of hyper-plant-growth. I just can’t handle it and I must add that to my list of fears right after worms. When I was 13 or 14, I went into our garage and it always made me feel cooler than what I was to run out there with no light and race the closing of the door to find what I was looking for and run back out. I got pretty good at it by 15 and a ½. One day, I did the exact same thing I always did. Ran out, looking for potatoes in a closed bin, and race to get back inside before the door slammed. This time, I couldn’t find the potatoes. I searched and searched, but to no avail. I just knew there were potatoes in this bin, but they apparently were replaced by this big, great, leafy…..AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! THE POTATO IS NOW A TREE!! I rushed to turn on the light and there it was. A tree coming out of the potato that was about 3 feet tall and surrounded by other fellow potato and onion trees. UGH!! I still quiver as I even type this narrative. I was scared for days.

Here’s stop 3 of this “thin line of logic.” I got to the lake on the camp property and was leaning over to find some fishies and look at the algae and lilipads when I was something that looked JUST like Jumanji and potato growth all put together! Lake growth. A terrible idea. I had nightmares of swimming in the lake and this still wrapping its slimy and leafy limbs around my innocent, slightly hairy legs. Just the thought makes me whimper. I did learn a cool fact. Lake growth happens at about 15 feet; I’m be floating in the shallow end of diving in the deep for lake growth is not something I care to experience.

Alas. I must add this to my list of epic blood-curling grief-strikening scary stuff. Number 1: Worms. Number 2: Hyper plant growth. Subpoint 2A: Potato Growth. Subpoint 2B: Lake Growth.

The End.

Holly Blog 3: FIRE!!!

I have a confession to make. I think fire is…(exhale)….very sexy. One of my favorite scents on a man is barbeque smoke. There’s just something about being able to “control” fire that I think is just so powerful and mysterious and chivalrous. Since, I don’t have a man, I had to take matters into my own hand. I learned how to barbecue last year and with more practice will be quite good at it. This year, actually today, I got to make… fire. Tricked ya! I bet you thought I was going to type “make love.” HA!! Ok. I’m done with my joke.

The camp counselors were split into two groups—boys and girls—and were given 60 minutes, a tin can with water in it, an egg, a lighter, and instructions to go boil it. We had to go scavenging for fire sticks and branches and anything naturally combustible that comes from the ground (no bug spray or lighter fluid allowed). It was the coolest and most rudimentary thing to do. Obviously, everybody in ancient days past and some people in days present have had to cook things on an open fire. I can’t IMAGINE having to do so for all the meals. So if I just wanted to heat up some leftovers back in 600 b.c., that process would not be as simple as zapping my innocent food molecules with radioactive, carcinogenic, and probably somewhat deadly micro waves. Oh vanity, convenience, and technology how you eventually kill us all. But as you can see, I am currently making significant strides to rid my future of microwaves. NOT! I’ll still use them, but as I do so, I will reminisce on the time in Holly, Michigan when I was Jenaya the Fire Diva.

Holly Blog 2: Necessity Numero Uno—Bug Spray

I must tell you about my plane trip. Actually I’m not sure how I got here. I packed my bags and left at 5 am to be taken to the airport after a good 4.5 hours of sleep. I only function on 8 hours. I got in my seat at the airplane and put my head back. I woke up and couldn’t figure out where I was or how I got there, then conked back out. I woke up when they said “Welcome to Detroit” and went to text my mom and saw 3 iPhones instead of my one and stumbled off the plane. Great moment.

When I got to the camp, they said “Hi. Welcome. Have you sprayed for bugspray?” Oh golly. I looked down on my arm and it was being feasted upon by 2 hungry lunchers. I got settled, figured out my bearings, and got a very brief tour of the campsite. It’s about 250ish acres give or take 20 and is super pretty. We even have a lake! But it was lake growth, which is so scary that it deserves its own blog entry.

The first few stragglers of camp counselors were late stayer-uppers and I just couldn’t converse anymore and was knocked out at about 12. At 2:30, I noticed that it was really loud and really smoky! FIRE!! Apparently, the fire place wasn’t ventilated well and the whole ½ of our lodge was filled with thick white smoke and nobody could figure out the fire alarm to turn it off for about 30 minutes. As soon I as realized that I was not in danger of death, I laid back down and came up with different and unique rhythmic patterns to the blaring and very effective fire alarm that is less than 5 square tiles away from my pillow. Welcome to camp.

I’m super excited about this place. I think that it will recompense my horrific childhood experience in the woods. I actually do like nature, but I normally only like it from the inside of a building…or car…ooorrrr…train. We’ll see how this place will transform me and I am welcoming you to my journey in Holly, Michigan.

Peace out <3

Holly Blog 1: Why It’s Taken Me 15 Years to Go Camping Again

There are reasons why I only camp in the Hilton.

The only experience I have had camping was a weekend trip that I have just recently come to terms with for it was quite horrendous and traumatizing. I buried my 9-year old memories to the Rocky Mountains where my Junior Girl Scout trip commenced. All I know is that we got into some really windy roads, got out of a van onto a dirt road, then I went to pee in a porta-potty and heard my urine take longer than normal to hit only Providence knows what way down below. I sulkingly and quietly took in all the sites. A few hours later (what we did during that time I don’t remember), we got ready for bed and the camp counselor said, “I need you to put your toothpaste at the lower picnic tables.” Why, my brain asked..well in the morning, I found out that bears were sniffling through it and could have killed me if I had kept my toothpaste in my little knapsack. THEN, when I awoke, I went to change into my blue jeans, but was wondering why they were so hard. They were frozen. My blue jeans. Frozen. Really? So my unphysically fit meek child pried my legs into blue fabric boards and crawled out of her mini cabin and cried and whimpered on her nature hike. That was my camping trip. Depression.

Now most kids are sent off by their parents to the woods with their suitcases in tote and a pillow to sleep on in the bus that picks them up from their school. Not me. This is not my story. I decided, well Jesus decided, that I should be a camp counselor. I googled “Summer Camp Counselor Jobs 2011” and emailed the first 15 or so people. I was in the middle of my death semester and didn’t have time to find references and eliminated those. Then I laid eyes on this one. I felt led to this one…it just seemed interesting. I sent out the vague email and they emailed me back. I got a preliminary interview. Two days later had a LONG second interview (45 minutes). By Friday, I got the job. Then, I thought, “Where is Michigan, anyway?”

I bought my plane ticket and packed a 46.5 pound bag (Phew!) and said good-bye to Kentucky. Some random highways. Some random Meijer’s store (like a really weird Walmart), and an Ikea store.

Welcome to Holly, Michigan. I have no idea where I am.