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.
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