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.