Blogs From My Birthday

Time ticks by.

Camp is half over now. Staff week has come and gone, and weeks one and two of the camp season came and went in a wet, sticky mess.

Time ticks by.

I turned twenty-two on Friday, which means it’s official. I’m old. Facing my senior year, I’ve come to the realisation that I really need to make some decisions in my life. I’ll be student teaching in the fall—so I’m going to have to decide whether or not I want to teach straight out of college. I just don’t know if I’m ready to teach a classroom everyday for the rest of my life at the ripe age of twenty-three. There are so many things I want to do with my life, so now it’s time to decide which things on that list I actually want to pursue and which ones are silly pipedreams. Because of my trip abroad, more of the things that were previously on the “silly pipedream” list have slid over and joined the ranks of pursuable. I blame it on the pyramids.

Time ticks by.

As I sit and ponder these whinny questions about my future, I’m constantly struggling at camp. I love working at camp with all my heart. I really do. But this year has been really different. It’s just not the same anymore. This summer is my seventh summer on camp staff, and because of that, I’m starting to feel old. I always laugh it off and make jokes about how I refuse to grow up, but seriously, why am I still working at summer camp? There are so many other things I could be doing with my summer. I don’t regret my decision, but it makes me wonder. Pause. That’s not entirely true. I feel a tinge of regret when I look at my wallet and my bank statements and see obscenely low numbers.

Low numbers aren’t only appearing in my bank statements. The number of scouts at Tamarack this summer is lower than it has ever been. Nationally, the number of scouts has been declining annually, but now, due to the dilapidated economy and whatever other citable sources, the numbers at camp are ridiculously low. When you look out at the parade field, it is painfully obvious of the lessened numbers. What concerns me the most about the number of scouts ticking away like minutes on the Doomsday Clock is because the Boy Scouts is such an important and worthwhile organisation. I don’t care what preconceived notions and stereotypes exist about the Boy Scouts; there are so many great things that the BSA does for youth.

Time ticks by.

The day before my birthday I went on a mountain biking expedition. It was pretty gnarly. That idiom about “just like riding a bike” isn’t as accurate as I always thought it would be. I haven’t ridden a bike in quite some time, and it showed. I’ve also collected some war wounds to show for it. I wish I could have taken some pictures because it really was a sight to see, but alas, that would have been supremely awkward.

Nothing terribly mentionable happened on my birthday. However, to mildly contradict that, I did get to spend the evening with Phil and Andy. So nothing eventful, but still delightful.

I wish I had more to say, but I’ve spent the day moving boxes…