Before summer began at camp, I attended a week of training. And I thought about quitting. I honestly didn't think I could survive three weeks of camp, even though I'd lasted an entire summer two years before. But I kept my commitment. I survived. I have several bruises, a sore ankle, am sleep deprived, but I survived.
During training week, you are prepared for every possible situation that might happen in the cabin. I use the term prepared loosely because honestly nothing can prepare you for cabin life until you are in the middle of a cabin, until you are really responsible for 9 to 15 13-year-old girls. And they tell you during training that the time spent working at the camp will be the hardest of your life. Again, it's hard to understand the truth of that statement until you have actually lived it.
I cried more over the past three weeks than I normally cry in a year, including the tears that fall while I watch movies. There was so much that happened while I was at camp. I have so many stories from those three weeks, but I'm saving the stories. Maybe I'll write a book one day. Or maybe I'll just keep them close to my heart and remember the people from my three weeks in Livingston.
What I do know is that I can do it. Not camp but this thing we call life. I can do it, and I can make it matter. It just takes one person to spark a change. I saw that over the course of three weeks. Even if I wrote out everything that happened, I'm not sure I could adequately describe the changes that occured in my life. I know I couldn't describe the changes I saw in the lives of the people around me. But what I do know is this. Life can bring it on because if I could survive those three weeks, I can survive just about anything.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
It's Never Really Over
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Dream of Me, Only I'd Rather Not
Last night marks the third night I have had a detailed dream concerning marriage or serious relationships, and when I woke up this morning, there was a slight smile. Then I figured out what the dream was about and sighed. It's really hard to repeat that I don't need no man when all I seem to dream about is having a man.
This particular dream speaks volumes right now, which is never a good thing. I'm already second guessing myself and wringing my hands over whether or not I can actually pull this summer off, but hey, let's add in a dream about a very cute country boy, who has a baby that isn't mine but that I care for like it is mine, and see how I deal with it all. Especially since, you know, I dreamt about said country boy and my dad discussing my future. The country boy doesn't want me to give up my dreams for him or the baby. At least I know how to pick them in my dreams. Now I just need to learn how to transfer that talent to real life.
So what did the man of my deams look like? Taller than me, blond hair, blue eyes, nice build. Pretty much the All-American guy, which is not inventive at all. Hello, I am a writing major; could my dreams please reflect my ability to draw characters with words?
One good thing, though, was that there was no marriage involved in this dream. Just the dream man standing and clapping as I graduated across a very small stage. And no marriage is good because the last marriage dream I had was of the wedding day, when I left the guy at the altar.
If these dreams continue, I'm either going to need a good man or some psychologist to let me lay on a black couch while she figures out what all of this means.
