Camp

When I was 8 years old, my mother was invited to be a speaker at a Baptist church camp for girls during one of our summer furloughs to the USA. We were all really excited because this meant that my sister and I got to go along for free (which was a big deal for our meager-waged missionary family). My dream of becoming infiltrated with regular American girls doing regular American girls things like eating fruit roll-ups, wearing clothes from the County Seat, and watching Saved by the Bell would finally come true. I still remember spying on Mom's end of the telephone conversation where she made all the arrangements for us. It was going to change my life.
Well, the greatly anticipated week of bliss turned into a week of hell. The camp was dirty, un-airconditioned, and bug-ridden. The girls there hated us for being new, different, and the speaker's daughters. Our counselors spent most of their time applying lipstick while staring into their hand-mirrors, and on the last night at chapel when we were all supposed to cry and tell everyone that we got a holy call to the mission field, my sister and I stayed in our chairs because we'd already been there, done that.
We hated it. Mom hated it too. There was no greater childhood disappointment than camp.
I begged my parents to never send me back, and they swore they wouldn't. I stayed away from camp for 16 years.
Then I applied to be a counselor at a local day camp for kids with cancer and their siblings. The reasons for this were as follows: I wanted my first week in Wheaton to be as busy as possible (because that's how I deal with major life transitions), and I still think that sick kids are the coolest people on earth. I was pretty nervous going into the whole experience because no one hates camp more than me.
I got hooked about twelve minutes into day 1 when I met the campers in my group; four 8 year olds who will likely grow up to develop a cure to their disease while achieving world peace as a side project. They were awesome. We spent the week dancing, singing, playing, swinging, bowling, jumping, laser-tagging, swimming, carnival-ing, movie-watching, and bus riding.  It was wonderful and exhausting and hilarious and fun.

You do not know what hard work and determination really means until you watch a sick kid try to play. Each slow step and stop for breath checked my heart for all that I take for granted and impressed me beyond belief at the strength of character these little ones possess.  It was an incredibly humbling experience. I loved it. Have some pictures.

day 1

My first day in my new town was such a raging success, I have to blog about it.
I started it off with an orientation meeting. Next week I'm volunteering at a day camp for kids who have been affected by cancer. I can't wait to play with these little guys in an environment that is catered to them and their specific needs. I also got to see some middle-aged female baseball fans wage a Sox vs. Cubs war in the middle of the meeting. It was fascinating. Later, upon learning that I had just moved from Kansas City, one of the ladies assured me that it was okay if I wanted to wear a Royals hat at camp. I'm so relieved.
Then I returned to my temporary home, a basement bedroom belonging to a family who knows and loves Tim. I got a little more settled in and then had lunch with the family.
After that, I got in my car and drove for exactly 7 minutes and arrived at my fiancee's house. This was so cool for us. I walked in the door and we just marveled that we get to see each other so easily, every day from now on. We beat long-distance!! With style!
Later in the afternoon, I went with Tim to shoot an engagement session at the zoo! Too much fun.
During the shoot, Tim got a text message from his friend Sarah saying she wanted to invite me to see a movie with her and some other girls. Cha-ching! When we were done taking lovey pictures, I bade him farewell and scampered off to make some girlfriends.
Finally, Tim and I ended the day by chilling at my future brother and sister-in-law's apartment.

I think this is all going to work out just fine.

Goodnight, Kansas City

At the end of today, I won't live in Kansas City anymore.
After my second bout with tears last night, Tim asked me how my heart was feeling. I thought about it for a second and told him it felt like scrambled eggs; all stirred up and half baked.
As excited as I am to start a new life in Chicago with my fiancee, it's going to be hard as all get out to drive away from this place.
I moved to Kansas City alone when I was 19. I wanted independence so bad I couldn't think straight. Being on my own in a new place made me feel like I was fully alive.

It was January and I came from Florida. I didn't even know how to drive in snow, but I figured it out the hard way--along with a lot of other things--and I've been making my own way here for four and a half years. That's 6 months shy of the longest stretch I've ever lived in one place for my whole life.

But now I want to be in a family again and I'm smitten by a good man who wants to love me till we're old, and that deal is too good to pass up...even though it means leaving my sweet little city.

photo cred: The Parsons Photographers

Yesterday I quit my job, said goodbye to my friends, and we packed my car. If we leave soon, we should be in Chicago by dinner time, and then I'll keep myself as busy as possible so I don't get sad.

this is what we do:

• skype every waking minute
• match our clothes without meaning to
• he taunts me with my wedding band

Long distance engagement ends in four days.