Conclusions and Contusions.

It's Friday night. Time to party. At my very own aerobic center. Dass riiight. This camp is my playground. But it's not just any playground. It's an elite playground. I really had no idea the freedom I would have upon coming out here. I have keys to pretty much everything and I have friends that are certified to operate all the fun toys.

For example, tonight I am going to work out at the sportscenter weight room. It has pretty much everything that your local gym has, but I don't have to pay to be a member. I have access to a skate park, a rock wall, a zip line, a ropes course, and what is called "The Pamper Pole"...aka you're gonna need a heavy duty diaper when you climb up this tall skinny pole that sways when you climb it. And that's not even the scary part. Once you reach the top of the very high skinny pole you have to somehow stand up and while it's swaying and jiggling, you have to jump off to grab a bar that's hanging out in front of it. I have yet to try it, but as I mentioned I have friends at my fingertips that are certified to operate it. And I'm certainly going to take advantage.

I have endless mountain biking trails to roam. I have endless dirt roads to run and each and every one of them ends at something glorious, aka the John Day River. I have hills and mountains galore to hike and frolic and explore. I have beautiful people smiling at me everyday. I have a lake and a pool and creeks and rivers and reservoirs to swim in. I have basketball courts. I have my very own book nook. What more could I ever possibly ask for?

Alright enough of all that bragging and excitement...I'm sure you guys are totally jealous right now so I'm just gonna move on...

Alright so remember that guy Jesus and how He can brew up these little things called miracles? Well let's just say I've experienced a couple of my own small miracles. One of them involves one of my single lady intern friends who lives across the hall from me. Her name is Krista. You remember her as the one who eagerly agreed to let me train her to run a marathon. Ok well we already discovered that we want to hike the PCT together, which was pretty darn miraculous for me but here comes a funny story...yesterday Krista and I have come home from housekeeping for our 45 minute lunch break. I go in the cupboard to get my peanut butter because I really want a peanut butter and pickle sandwich. I know, you all probably just threw up in your mouth a little bit, but I sincerely love them. So I go to the refrigerator to get out the jar of pickles that Krista and I are sharing because we decided there was no point in buying two jars when we both absolutely adore dill pickles. Once I realize she has the pickles I go to borrow them and realize that she has peanut butter out on the counter with the pickles. At that very moment Krista and I knew that we were "lifers"...friends that would indeed be friends for life. We both love peanut butter and pickle sandwiches. Seriously? And we were both pulling out stuff to make them on the same day for lunch? God, is that you? You silly guy, pulling those little miracles like that...

So that was pretty much the highlight of my day on Thursday. We also had all staff worship last night where the entire property staff and some of their wives and children cram into this little building known as Condo 50. We literally cram. It's sorta funny considering there are thousands of acres of property around us and yet we choose to cram into the tiniest building to praise Jesus. Guffaw.

After all staff worship there was a Meet, Greet, and Eat in the Sassy...which is actually called The Sarsaparilla, which is our camp snackbar. We got free Big Muddies and it was sort of a big fat welcoming party for all us new interns. I got a gummi bear and reese's Big Muddy and nearly threw up all over myself, but boy was it delish. I'm pretty good with names so I could probably tell you the names of each and every property staff person I met, along with their wive's names and all their children. I stood at the doorway when we were on our way out last night and tested myself. It's sort of a little game I like to play.

Went to bed early last night because not only did Krista and I have an early 5 mile run this morning, but I'm just an old lady out here at camp and if I go to bed past 10, I'm exhausted the entire next day...well, pretty much regardless of what time I got to bed, I'm exhausted the next day. I'm really hoping that I'll start adjusting...or maybe I'm just slightly anemic.

This morning my honking alarm went off at 6:15am. It's one of those alarms that startles you awake. One of those alarms that has the capability of playing the radio and soothingly rousing you from sleep. But I live in a world where there is no radio so I get slapped in the face every morning by my abrasive alarm clock and this morning was especially painful. I put on my retro Reebok spandex among other layers and I got slapped in the face again when I walked outside. The cold is like hundreds of little tiny daggers jabbing at you. Have you seen that movie The Borrowers? I felt like hundreds of Borrowers were pressing their borrowed thumbtacks into my body, every inch of it. I tried to run fast to warm up but Krista kept repeating her favorite phrase that she says at the beginning of every run, "I ain't lookin' to sprint this." Krista likes to talk in this amazing voice that she considers a thug voice, but I consider it a little southerny hick voice. It's quite comical and it's definitely rubbing off on me. We went out for our five miles...and the sun hadn't even really peaked out yet. We were running by moonlight still...which was pretty majestic.

After our run we had to book it to work. As a kitchen intern I have to wear Chefwear to work every Friday and Saturday when we have campers in. It's really quite glamorous. I inherited a pair of flying pig Chefwear pants and they're phenomenal but everyone thought I was still in my pajamas today. So fun.

I've made a couple conclusions about the beginning of this year, which is sort of contradictory but whatevs. Conclusion number 1...God really does have our best interest at heart. I've doubted it for years, and I'm sure I'll continue to doubt it in the future, because I'm only human. But I'm convinced, nonetheless. It's almost as if he has a special pair of glasses on that allows Him to make our hearts transparent, so that He can see exactly what we truly desire at any given time. For instance, I have been desperately wanting to learn how to cook, sew, and build things for the past couple years. And then I arrive at camp and come to find out I'm the kitchen intern, with an 80 yr old neighbor who's a phenomenal seamstress willing to let me be her apprentice, and her husband who is an equally phenomenal carpenter, who teaches a wood shop class once a week in the winter. God, you are just too good. Conclusion number 2...Friends are everything. And everywhere. As hard as it was to say not goodbye, but see ya later, to all my dear friends in Riverside and Santa Barbara, I have this entire new community of friends and God has sincerely placed each of us here. I can just picture Him standing on His tip toes, super excited like, peeking into our lives with a big fat grin on His face, just waiting for us to unveil all the uncanny things that we have in common with one another. Conclusion number 3...I'm getting in the best shape I've ever been in this year because not only do I have endless trails and mountains to play on and an aerobics center at my fingertips, but I have an accountability partner named Krista who inadvertently keeps me accountable by allowing me to train her. Just knowing that I have to hold up my end of the bargain is enough to get me out of bed when it's still dark to go run amidst the shards of glass also known as 30 degree weather.

Conclusions and contusions. Today in the bakery...I nearly lost my right arm. I was making some bread in this little guy we call the Hobart. It's really not little at all. It's a huge mixer that we use to mix all our breads and bakery treats. I pulled open the safety guard which automatically kills the power on it. I reached into the mixer to see if I needed to add more flour to the dough when out of nowhere, here comes the dough hook, to eat my hand. It pinched my wrist up against the side of the mixing bowl and had it been going even a little bit faster I would have gotten my hand crushed, all the little bones becoming powder in what was left of my right hand. But Jesus just wanted to warn me about the anger pent up inside of Mr Hobart and that he is waiting to unleash it on innocent hands and arms. Needless to say, I have a fat contusion on my wrist. My right arm took a heavy beating today. I also slammed it in the bathroom door and burned it while making iced tea in the giant vat that pretends to be a pressure cooker.

And another glorious day comes to an end. I think I'm starting to develop callouses from vacuuming. If it wasn't for the knife cutting glove, I would have chopped off my left pinky today. And I officially am obsessed with doing dishes in the pits. Pits actually stands for People in the sink, I just found out, and it's where we send every dirty dish and utensil and I sincerely love it. The other day a work crew girl from the pits was washing her hands next to me and I asked her how she was doing. She sort of grimaced and I said, "You're actually really lucky, I absolutely love the pits." She threw her head back and laughed and said "Ohhhhh, the irony." And as I walked away I was like, No but really, I really do love the pits. She didn't understand my weird obsession. It's something about the quick fix, cleaning each individual dish gives me this little sense of accomplishment. I know. I'm weird. But I'm just being honest.

And that's where I'll leave you. Go wash a dish or something.