where in the world...

i had a dream the other night in which i had run into a friend who i really only knew my sophomore year of college. we began to catch up (the details of this conversation are, of course, somewhat lot in the translation between dream and reality so excuse the fogginess of my account).

he asked me, so where are you right now? australia? the ukraine?

to which i sheepishly replied, no. im actually in new hampshire.

to be honest, i was bit bemused by this dream because i am not exactly sure when i wanted to go to australia or the ukraine. and i'm not really sure why i wanted to go. which doesn't surprise be, although adventure, excitement, change are some words that pop quickly into my mind. but i guess i apparently did at some point. enough, at least to dream about it.

at the same time, the dream made perfect sense: for if i wasn't to go to those two specific places necessarily, i do know i wanted to live abroad after graduation. that, at least, i am confident of. but i didn't end up abroad. and for many reasons, albeit mostly subconscious ones, that fact is (apparently) somewhat burdensome.

please don't get me wrong. i am in no way disappointed with the direction my life has taken me recently. quite the opposite, actually; i am incredibly grateful, for reasons that i am sure to discuss later on. however, it is drastically different than i had ever picture. for, unlike some of my peers, i am not abroad nor, like so many others of my peers, do i live in a city. or even that close to one. i am currently living in the small town of alton, new hampshire or to be more specific, the even smaller campus of camp brookwoods. the nearest city (boston) is about an hour and forty five minutes south. walmart has become the best shopping in the area and the nearest starbucks, at least that i have located, is about an hour away. it takes me at least twenty minutes to get to the grocery store or gas station. and, probably the hardest aspect of the deal, i don't really have cell phone service because, as i have learned, you can hold the phone up as high as you want, you can twirl, you can dance, but if that text message doesn't want to go out... it won't*.

my job is fairly normal, with flexible but decently expected hours. i work 9-5 most days... ok. that's all a lie. i work whenever i want, really. i just have to make sure i get in 40 hours a week and since everyone else is here 9-5 i choose those hours merely for the sake of company. most days, i run copies (and copies and copies and copies), i stuff envelopes (and envelopes and envelopes and envelopes), and i write emails (and emails and emails and emails). other days, i get to try my hand in the development field, calling random people i don't know who may find in their hearts the desire to donate to our ongoing capital campaign. more on that later, i'm sure. random days, i actually get to do fun camp stuff like low ropes initiatives, lifeguarding, and (don't say its true!) staff skiing. i live in a small room not much bigger than a dorm room above my office. my game room, yes my game room, is down the hall from my bedroom; there are three fooseball tables, two pin pong tables, and a pool table. there is also a projector system that, if i had enough desire, i could watch a movie on. my living room connects to my rather large dining room, which i share with about 300 conference guests each weekend. in one corner there's a couch and a tv. in another, a fire place. and in my favorite corner, there is a piano. if you haven't caught on to the trend** quite yet, my kitchen is indeed the camp kitchen which is fully stocked might i add. i am cultivating my culinary creativity with industrial sizes pots, pans, and portions while attempting my sure darndest to avoid the freezer full of moose track ice cream.

i accepted the job on a whim partially because i had fallen in love with this place and partially because it seemed a better option than living at home and working a managerial job at Target. and so far, those reasons have turned out to be good enough. while the pace is, as the saying goes, slow as molasses, i have appreciated the time such a pace has allowed me to think, to process, to read, to pray. plus, room and board is included in my paycheck so a decent amount of money is coming in while, because of my location, not a lot of money going out. it is a nice set up to say the truth. and i am incredibly grateful for it.

however, it isn't winter yet. and, as i have heard, molasses flows a lot slower in january.

guess only time is going to tell, right?

*may it be noted that i would more than gladly give cell phones and starbucks up if i were to travel off to somewhere distant, say for example, the country of ukraine. but never, in my wildest dreams would i have expected to have such accommodations in the US. but, who said life doesn't surprise us. and can i repeat again that i am not complaining. i, in fact, kinda like it... so far.

** i live in the camp's main building. what can i say?