Continuing in the grand old tradition of Summer, i was at camp last week. (Not Nazarene camp... they finally figured out i was having my ordained friends fake my 'pastor's recommendation' and that i wasn't actually attending a Nazarene church)
i was in Coloma, on the American Rio, heretofore referred to as Surface Of The Sun 2.0., driving trailer-load after trailer-load of amped youngsters to the river every afternoon. Van-loads too, but we also snuck (too) many into the trailer to hang on for dear life with their tubes. Take that, Fuzz! i was also supervising late night pay-phone calls to boyfriends, steering clear of nightly farting contests in the girls' tent, (girls have changed since i was one) and teaching city kids that 'Camping means you don't need a mirror to brush your teeth.' And they had their hands full with me, because i'm used to much more organization, programming, and a staff room stocked with yummies. Poor dears had to keep hearing 'Well, at Nazarene camp..." By the end of the week, though, more than one tradition-less student (of the same tradition-less persuasion that once asked me what a hymnal was) said 'The Nazarene church actually sounds pretty cool.' Well duh! What part of Phineas F. Bresee didn't strike you as 'cool' before??
Anyway, it was a good time. And after some harassing and bribing, i was able to get the boys from our church to name me as 'Hottest Counselor,' which of course was my whole reason for being there in the first place. That and serving Jebus or something. This weekend......another wedding!!
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