A Glorious Return

I'm back after a bit of a blogger hiatus. I broke the one rule of my blog (to post everyday for a year) multiple times while on assignment at Castaway and then the entire week while at Crooked Creek, plus a few days since I've been back. And guess what? I feel just fine about it! This says a lot considering my perfectionistic tendencies. I think I'm really making progress. Who knew that in order to conquer the demanding perfectionist inside me I had to break some of my own rules?

Thanks to some prodding/encouragement from Greg and Kate, I'm making my grandiose return. It helped me to return knowing that there are at least two people out there awaiting a new post. So here you go you two :)

I think part of my hesitation in return to writing has been deciding what to kick off with. I just spent a whirlwind 5 weeks at camp full of meaningful experiences and funny stories. My first instinct is to reflect on those moments and share many of my hilarious photos in order to preserve the month along with the rest of this year's happenings. However, life keeps moving and I have traditionally written in the present tense about what is occurring on a day to day basis. Today was my last day at my job and tomorrow I embark on the journey of unemployment (i.e. plenty of writing fuel for a blog dedicated to failure). So what is one to do? As Anne Lamont says via my wise sage of a friend Tenelle, "Just keep writing." So I'm back and it may feel disjointed, but here goes.

So with most camp experiences, a return home from Young Life camp carries with it the coming-down-from-the-mountaintop-syndrome. Camp gives one a glimpse of God's Kingdom come, life as it should be, things set right, heaven on Earth. Thus the return to the "real world" can bring with it some disillusionment. I'm trying to combat this I'm-back-home-letdown by keeping the adventure of camp alive. God is just as active in the trenches (or more often monotony) as he is on the mountaintop; sometimes it's just me who needs to learn to recognize his presence. So one small thing me and my cabin of girls from camp are doing is having weekly "adventures".

They really took the reigns on planning the first one and took me to their creek. This was exactly what I had in mind when I suggested the concept of adventure. They led the way through the neighborhood cutting through back yards as we made our way to the trail. Just 2 minutes into a tiny forest in the midst of suburban sprawl, we stumbled upon the creek. We walked with the current in the ankle deep and sometimes shin deep waters. There were uphill cliffs to our left and slate and stone breaking in perfectly cut sheets on the shore to our right. At one point we scurried in our flip flops to the bank as fast as we could after spotting a skinny little snake swimming in front of us only to find its much larger companion sunbathing on the rocks beside us. Merrilee threw a rock at it and we shuffled downstream.

The girls had made this trek many times before and their expertise showed as they skipped from rock to rock never faltering once despite the slippery moss covering each surface. I kept saying aloud and to myself, "I can't believe this place is real." I felt as though I had been transplanted to the deep south, to some small town or rural farm. Even more so I felt as though I had been transplanted back in time. Here I was reliving the emotions of my childhood as we explored the woods and lake in my neighborhood back in Iowa. We would walk the length of the railroad tracks and on rare occasions actually cross the tracks and explore the forest on the other side. I think this sense of exploration and adventure are part of our human make up and not common just to outdoorsy types. I am the farthest thing from outdoorsy and my brave guides are by no means tomboys; rather two of them are cheerleaders, one is a graceful swimmer and lifeguard, and there's even a ballerina in the bunch. Exploring the "crick" is part of the common human experience.

Just when I thought our trip couldn't get any better we came upon the swimming hole. The girls discarded their flip flops and Joslyn positioned herself on the edge of the rocks. Without a moment's hesitation she flung herself into the murky waters. She signaled that the water was nice and deep, appropriate cannon ball depth, and the rest of us followed. One by one we launched off the rocks in our tshirts and shorts. What is it about swimming in your clothes that makes any experience more magical? We scaled the miniature waterfall and climbed back onto the ledge, throwing ourselves off again and again. Amanda giggled as I emerged after my third cannonball and said, "Your face was hilarious." I'm sure it was. I can't remember the last time I had that much fun and I'm sure my face showed it.

Today was indeed my last day at work and I've been so confused not only in how to feel but in what to do. Do I mourn? Do I panic at the onset of unemployment? Do I celebrate? I'm still not sure. But I do know that I had a simple, beautiful, and magical experience today with some of my high school girls. That's what Young Life has been for me and all I could ever hope for, so I think my last hours on staff were spent just as they should be: swimmin' in the crick in my tshirt and jean shorts with some kids. Who could ask for anything more?

An Ending and a Beginning

My bags are packed and my alarm is set for an early morning. Sadly my month at Castaway is over. Tomorrow I will hop on a flight to Denver and head to yet another YL camp, Crooked Creek, for a week with my kids from Lee's Summit. I have my airline ticket, but the shuttle service I was going to book with is now showing they are unavailable. I'll call customer service first thing in the morning, but maybe I won't be making it to camp afterall. I guess the adventure begins...right? Or the travel nightmare.

Another Missed Day

I missed yet another post last night. I hope I can chalk it up to being at camp and that missed posts don't become a habit once back home. I don't know if I'll be posting at all next week while I take my own high schoolers to camp in Colorado. We'll have to see.

The reason I missed a post last night was because I fell asleep. I was working on a project for a morning event that I'm in charge of and for the third week in a row, I fell asleep mid project with the computer on my lap. Each time I've woken up with the lights on, computer still open, and really confused as to what I was doing and how I got in that position. It was all I could do to close down the computer, turn off the lights, and settle in to bed. Needless to say I didn't pop the computer back on in order to complete a blog post.

I think the last time I fell asleep in the middle of doing something like this was back in college. Many a night during finals week I would wake up drooling on my notes while trying to study. Despite spotting the empty mountain dew cans when I awoke, I was always confused as to exactly what had happened. There are times when your body just gives out and doesn't allow you to stay awake despite your willing it to do otherwise.

As an adult this doesn't happen to me...until now here at camp. I've gotten so used to the perpetual state of tiredness that mentally I think I'm fine to continue working while in reality my body indicates otherwise. Just another funny camp memory.

Readership Down, Friendship Up

3 of my most faithful readers, Kate, Natalie, and Greg, are here working at camp with me with limited access to the internet so they haven't been able to read along as frequently. However, I can't complain much about this because I've loved living and working so closely with them. I'd much rather connect with them face to face than know they are simply reading along from afar.

Eclipse

The wait is over. Eclipse premiered at midnight and of course I partook in the first screening. It tugged on all my girlish and giddy heart strings reminding me of my initial fascination with Twilight and Robert Pattinson and my allegiance to Team Edward. I won't write a review because a. I am not a movie critic (though that would be on my short list of dream jobs) b. I am completely biased and c. it was awesomely bad...allow me to explain. My new friend Chloe exclaimed in the parking lot as we returned to our cars, "It was soooo good." I agreed but felt it necessary to clarify my feelings by remarking, "I loved it...but it was not good." I am fully aware that everything from the writing to the acting to the hair and makeup are by critics' standards (and even layman's standards) simply not good. But a lack of quality does not prevent me from enjoying the heck out of it. It's not the first "bad" movie I have loved and it won't be the last. I'm not a snob. I loved it and am not afraid to admit it. Go Team Edward!

The Many Smells of Camp

As I was getting ready for bed tonight I was hit by many different smells/odors all generating from my person. My hair smells like the camp fire that was extinguished just prior to my turning in for the night. My feet smell from going sockless day in and day out in my Sperrys (mixed with a little Hogan family stinky feet syndrome as diagnosed by my brother in law). My cardigan smells of dirt and is still covered with remnants of burrs from my gaunt in the brush covering the cliff where I lost my frisbee during a round of golf. And last but not least, though this one may be in my head, I could swear my jeans smell a little fishy from their late night swim in the lake last week.

When these smells combine I may be a pretty stinky person, but they are all sweet reminders of a simple and beautiful day at camp.

The Weenie

So before campers arrived this afternoon for our final week of camp this session, the work staff got an opportunity to ride on the boats. Me and the girls went banana boating and it was awesome...until we fell off and Natalie got a concussion.

PS- The banana boat used to be called the weenie back in the day. Let the jokes begin.