Re-App

There's nothing like filling out a Re-App to the greatest job ever! No, it's not Resort Waterslide Tester, which I admit would be pretty sick. That can be my back up job. What I'm talking about is Summer Camp Counselor.

Filling out the Re-App is Step One in my preparation for next summer. Yes, I spend 8 months anticipating and preparing for 9 weeks. Call me crazy, but you wouldn't be the first. And I don't work at just your average summer camp. At Deer Creek Camp [( www.deercreekcamp.com ) (that just happened)] we have "interdenominational Christ-Centered Adventure Programming". That's just a fancy way of saying "we love God and will teach you all about Him, as well as help you conquer our Climbing Wall with 1,000 ft. Dual Zip Line".

I can't see myself doing any other job and being this joyful and over eager to get back to it. Being able to witness the Holy Spirit work in these campers lives is just beyond me. And my job doesn't end when the summer is over. I mean, yeah I stop getting paid and don't have to belay anyone up the rock wall, but my job isn't about making money or the physical work. I am forever my campers counselor. I have to be there for them when they call on me; to give advice, comfort them through loss, laugh with them about their joys, etc. I am never off the clock, and I absolutely love it.

The memories made during those 9 weeks are enough to get me through these 8 months. I seriously can't wait to get back to killing scorpions, late night rave/pool parties, hourly trips to the nurse, writing certs, teaching specialties, itchy face paint, and much much more.

Here are some pictures to help illustrate my point.

Procrastination

It's funny how all my classes this semester are writing based and I despise doing any of the work, but yet, I turn back to my blog. Even though I don't think 2 posts constitutes as a blog... but whatever. I'm documenting my thoughts and that's all that matters, right?

Okay the Kooks have been playing the same three songs over and over again on Spotify and it's starting to get to me. Time to switch it up. Phantom Planet, there we go.

Now back to my funny realization. I love writing. Unless it's graded. Or structured. Or has a deadline. Which explains why I'd much rather be on here than working on my news story about the V-Day Campaign. Or writing my reflection on certain women rhetors. My computer doesn't even recognize that as a real word so it shouldn't be taught as a class in college. Is that a valid enough reason? Yeah, I didn't think so either. Poop.

I was working on a Shakespeare paper the other day, at the last minute, as usual. When writing about any of Shakespeare's works for more than 2 pages (double spaced), you kind of forget what your point is. You get so lost in how does this change of character influence the play as a whole or the underlying themes, that you somehow find yourself talking about how great Heath Ledger was in 10 Things I Hate About You and that you wish he wasn't dead. I guess I'm not cut out to be a Shakespeare scholar, but the man still holds my fascination. Shakes, not Heath Ledger.

I do enjoy my poetry class. Writing about my lack of a relational life in poetic form doesn't make it sound so pathetic. Oh, who am I kidding, no amount of fluffy language will make that sound less depressing. But still, I enjoy that class. I just have to find a new focus. How about my parents divorce? Well I guess that would only work if my parents were actually divorced. Too bad they are happily married. Man, I lack instances for years of pent up emotions that would lead to some great poetry. Oh well. I'll just write about sunsets in Hawaii.

Okay I have killed about 45 minutes and this playlist on Spotify is getting old. I should probably buckle down and get some news stories written. HA! Okay we all know that's not going to happen. I'm going to go watch some Friends now. So until next time. Stay classy San Diego.