Skimmin'

Once upon a time last semester I was in a(nother) education class.
By this time in my college career I developed a large sense of pride in being able to effectively gut a book. Gutting a book is an academia term for skimming a book enough to BS an essay.

This particular assignment was for a class of four. Yes, me and three friends.
There was a bit of confusion over the assignment, because two of us were supposed to read each book. After reading, we were to write a seven page book report. At the end of the book report we were asked, "If you were to sit down with the author and ask him/her any questions, what would you ask?"

Well because I am an accomplished and intelligent senior in college, I ended my review with:
"If I were to sit down with the author, I would ask why she contradicts herself throughout the book." I then proceeded to point out the various times that she suggests that teachers do one thing, and then condemns teachers for doing exactly that.

Right before our class was starting, my classmates and I discovered that I was the only person who read my assigned book. For some reason (because my classmates hate me), the other three people in the class read the allegedly more interesting book.
Really, I was fine with it. I assumed the class discussion would gravitate towards that book because most of the people had read it. So that meant I could be guilt free in sitting back, relaxing, and nodding occasionally to make it look like I was following.

Before our professor walked in, I was reading the comments he had written on my essay. For the final section (what would you ask the author), his only comment was "Well you'll get to."

I'm sorry what? 

As soon as he walked in I said, "Ok Dr.__, what do you mean by, you'll get to?"
"Oh, we are skyping with the author of the book you read today."
"Are you serious?"
"Yes. And don't worry, you'll get to tell her your criticisms."

Here's the thing, I really only read half the book AT BEST. And the quality of that reading was likely abysmal. So there I was, sitting in class getting ready to have a conversation with the author of a book I did not read. None of my classmates had even opened the book, so no backup there.

Cue the sweat.

After a brief introduction courtesy of our professor, he opened the discussion by saying, "And Emma, over here, has some interesting criticisms for your book."

First of all: Emma. There are four people in the class. I had him for two classes that semester (one lasting 3 hours long that had 10 students.) And to him, I am still Emma.

Second of all: No I do not have criticisms. Please, no. Please.

The author herself was great. She was in her sixties, and a very accomplished Secondary Ed. Social Studies scholar. Probably the best in her field. She lives in New York, and was quite obviously not afraid of speaking her mind.
I am a young 20 something pre-service teacher with a South Carolina public school education. No thank you I would not like to criticize.

I survived, as people usually do.
I weaseled my way out of criticizing by starting with "Well, you actually answered a lot of my questions in your introduction." Then I changed the topic and asked about something I remembered from the first chapter of the book.

Moral of the story: Still not sure. Will I thoroughly read everything my future professors give me? Probably not. Did I humiliate myself? Absolutely.

Horses at Camp

So this might be one of the weirdest posts I ever write, so don't worry its short.

I had a dream last night that I was visiting camp and Annie (the director) was all excited to show me the horses they just got. I  was thinking:  That's weird, why would camp need horses?
Then I went to see them and they were small ponies. They turned around and had horse shaped heads with human faces. I said out loud “Aw they look so friendly!”
Then I realized they looked friendly because they had human faces, and I wasn’t weird-ed out at all.
End of dream.

I've been laughing about it to myself all morning.

When we were Thru Hikers...sort of

Last weekend my dear friend Lizzy and I decided to take a quick backpacking trip.
This was kind of our last hurrrah before I ship out to Italy for a year.

As long as we have been friends and as long as we have loved adventure, we have never been backpacking together. We were due.

There were a lot of unexpected things about this trip.
a) The smokies are awesome. Neither of us had been before, and now Gatlinburg makes a little bit more sense. Just a little bit.
b) We didn't realize we would be staying at a shelter with 20 Thru Hikers (people hiking all of the 2000+ mi. Appalachian Trail.

It was a night to remember for sure.
When I say we slept in a shelter with 15 snoring men in their 60s, it sounds weird. But it never felt weird.
We met a few odd ducks, but mostly everyone was 100% awesome.
Most of the Thru hikers were retired. That makes sense. You typically can't take 6 months off of work unless you've been there for awhile. Or unless you're done with the whole working thing. A few people were young, unemployed, and thinking why not? Most of the hikers were dads, grandparents, former boy scout troop leaders. They were joyful, hilarious, odds, and completely inviting.

I will never forget looking at the dying fire in the shelter as all the worn out hikers started to fall asleep. The late night talkers on the porch of the shelter smoking weed and listening to Johnny Cash. I was as if I was looking at this strange and beautiful sub culture through a window. We got a short one night glimpse into, but our friends were doing this every night for 5-6 months.

That trip helped me remember that humans are amazing.
I have long loved nature; and I have seen many beautiful things. But I never leave a hike still thinking about the lives of the individual trees I saw. I never leave mountains wishing I could hear all about their stories because our short conversation only grazed the surface.
Humans have stories no other creation can hold.

I'm a sensitive sleeper; in that if I hear someone snoring I will straight up not sleep. This makes me resentful and anxious pretty much every time.
That night, there were at least 10 loud snorers.
I did not feel an ounce of anxiety. Or anger, or frustration.
It was a strange feeling, but truly my love and admiration for these total strangers completely replaced any of my typical annoyances.

Sunday morning as we were packing up I felt almost sorry. Lizzy and I were going back to our cushiony chick fil a every day sort of lives. These people were going on to eat sodium rich hydrated meals; dreaming of their next fresh apple or pb&j.
Not that they made us feel bad.
Everyone was so encouraging, and thought it was great that we were out there at all, even if for a night. I also experienced the most appreciated pb&j I've ever made in my life.
I will probably never see those people again, and that's fine. I won't stop thinking about their stories, or wondering how they are doing on the trail, or wondering if they will finish.

I will never forget how easily they reminded me to appreciate the beauty of the human soul.

Cayo Pt. 5. The night she almost died.

After Sydney left, we all fell asleep rather quickly. Thanks Syd.
I honestly can't remember anything super eventful that happened the next day. Oh yes I do! We went to visit the showers (why?), and there was a huge black snake wrapped around the faucet. Thanks hint from the Universe, no showers for me!
Then Haley and I ran to go get firewood.
Actually ran.
See Haley has always been athletic, she more or less came out of the womb doing squats and sprints. I am quite the opposite.
But during senior year I decided I was going to finally try and get into shape. I wanted to avoid the freshman 15 like the plague. So I bought a book called The Dorm Room Diet and joined a gym.
See for all of my high school career I tried to convince myself that recreational swimming and dancing was enough to get me in shape. That may have been true if I had tried in either of those categories.
Its safe to say I had a bit of catching up to do.

So Haley and I started off running together, but then we decided it would be best if she did sprints and then ran back to me for a few seconds, and did sprints again.

Also, this was a motivator: Mosquitos were swarming us.
I'm not kidding. I looked down at my legs and counted 15. So we swatted, ran, picked up firewood, and ran back.
Well, she ran circles around me and I carried the wood.

That night, ish went down.

Alison did a really great job of making sure this wasn't just a 'fun' vacation, but a chance for us to do a lot of self reflection and prayer before the crazy transition of high school to college.

All of our friendship I had a love hate relationship with her constant questions.
"Pick 3 objects to describe your personality."
"How have you seen the Lord move this week?"
"What had God been teaching you lately?"
"What is your main gift that the Lord has put you on this Earth to share?"
"When is the last time you really felt content?"
"If people remember you for one thing, what do you want it to be?"
"What kind of movie would you thrive in?"

I hated these questions because they are hard to answer.
I love them because they taught me about who I am, what I care about, and the unique and wonderful gifts I've been given.

So we are sitting around the campfire affirming one another, laughing, eating smores, yadda yadda yadda.
Suddenly Haley jumps up in a panic and says, "Guys, something bit me. Something bit me and it hurts really bad."
I've known Haley for a long time, and she has one of the highest pain tolerances I've ever witnessed. The girl played soccer for an entire season with a broken bone in her ankle. She's unreal.

Well, as she was telling us she had been bit she was holding her finger and crying.
Until this point I had never seen her cry from pain. Ok, physical pain.
Shoot. 

So as she is sitting there crying, we grabbed our headlamps to see what could have bit her.
"Guys, there is a little scorpion right by Haley's chair."
"Oh man."
"Haley, do you think it could have been a scorpion?"
"Yeah, I mean I could feel it was little. Guys it hurts really really bad."

At this point in my 17 year old life, the extent of my wilderness knowledge and survival skills came from the novels Hatchet, My Side of the Mountain, and the TV show Man vs. Wild. Aka, I knew nothing. But I knew nature was extreme.

And I knew scorpions were bad.
Bad, bad.
I instantly saw flashes of people of Fear Factor with their heads in cages with poisonous scorpions; and deadly scorpions in deserts happily waiting for their next victims. I quickly remembered my calm cool and collected father royally flipping out when he discovered a scorpion under our tent when we went camping lightyears ago.

So it hit me. Haley is going to die.
Scorpions, as everyone knows, are the most deadly insect known to man.
The ferry to take us off this forsaken island definitely isn't running at 9 o clock at night.
That means we'll need a helicopter.
Which will take a long time because first we have to call Ranger Tom who is the worst.
And it'll be at least 40 min, and she'll be dead by then.

Until this point in life, I had never really been in a dangerous life or death survival situation. Of course I had imagined them, and in my imaginative life plans I was always very calm, rational, and helpful.

I'll just say it. That is not what happened.
I started sobbing. Full out Niagara.

These are some  of the thoughts that were going through my head:

It wasn't supposed to end like this! We are so young, she still has to play soccer in college, we can't even drink yet! Four years of friendship ending oh my gosh...

In the meantime Alison calls Ranger Tom.
Very calmly she explains that one of us got bit by a scorpion, it is small, and we aren't sure what to do.
Ranger Tom: "Uh, just put some ice on it."
Alison: "I'm sorry?"
Ranger Tom: "Yeah, I mean it hurts but if you just put some ice on it it'll be fine."
Alison: "Yeah, but its a scorpion. Aren't they...poisonous?"
Ranger Tom: *took a dramatic pause as if to let us know he was shaking his head*"Not in Florida they aren't."
Alison: "Oh, right. Of course. Ok well thank you."

When she hung up the phone there was a moment of silence.

"So what did he say?"
"Well, turns out scorpions are not poisonous."
"What?"

This was what I rationally said: "Yes they are! They totally are."
Alison: "No he said it basically feels like a wasp bite, and that's all it is."
Me: "But...sob...but...scorpions are school mascots! So they're...dangerous right?"

I'm telling you, Liam Neeson would never invite me on vacation. That makes me a little sad, but oh well.
See in my mind, I had already convinced myself Haley was going to die. Yes, I was relieved to realize she wasn't. But as I was doing a mental 180, that was the word vomit that came out. School mascots. What?

Anyways, that was the most eventful night on our Cayo trip.
The next day, we ended up leaving because huge storms were, in fact, rolling in.
So we stayed the rest of our trip in a friend of a friend of a friend's guest room.

It was the best.

Cayo Pt. 4

So I've been pretty bad about these posts. I knew that would happen eventually. Buuutt, I decided to write the final (maybe) installment of our Cayo Trip. So if you've already forgotten it, feel free to back in the archives.

So where were we?
Ah. Ranger Tom just gave us a tent.

That made us feel a lot better.
A) We wouldn't have to squeeze 6 people into a 2 person tent.
B) We would have a place to put our food and gear so bugs and animals wouldn't get into it.
It was an old green tent that looked like it could have been used in Vietnam, but we didnt care.
As soon as we opened it a whole family of cocroaches spilled out.
"Ohhhhhh. Sick sick sick."

For a moment nobody said anything.
"Well, we should still set it up."
"Raise your hand if you want to sleep in the cocroach tent." Nobody raised their hands. 
"Well, lets just see if we can all fit in the 2 person tent. Maybe its really a 4 person tent."
We set it up, and sure enough we could all fit.
Sort of.
Not really or comfortably, but what was the alternative?

So we kept all of our gear in the cockroach Vietnam tent, and lay out our sleeping bags in a tetris-like formation.

That night ended up being fun. We went and played in the water, discovered Amanda had no idea how to swim. Seriously no idea.
We took some unflattering pictures in the sand, and got ready to heat up a casserole for dinner. That meant we had a start a fire.
I'm not sure what kind of fire wood I was expecting in southern Florida, but I assumed there would be regular pine trees.
There weren't. There were palm trees.
Ranger Tom was nice enough to tell us that they offered fire wood, but you can't just throw a log on a pile of ashes and light it. You need small sticks and such to get it going.
So that meant we had to forage for fire wood.

After we got our fire going thanks to Haley who earned her nickname Fuego for good reason, we had a lovely dinner. As our fire started to go down, Haley and I willingly volunteered to gather more firewood.
We took off running into the jungle armed with our headlamps and no concept of Florida wilderness.

Now that I have had a bit of experience in outdoor education, I am ashamed of this. But I was 17. We started our foraging by breaking giant pieces of palm tree bark off of the tree. As soon as we did, a whole family of ants the size of my eye ball burst from the spot where is broke off.  I get it  mother nature, we break you you break us. 

"WOAH!" We slowly turned around and heard  a "Hiss."
"There is a snake poking its head out of a hole right by your foot, Haley."
We slowly turned around to face a spider the size of my palm in a a tree a foot from our faces.

"Do you think we have enough fire wood?'
"Yeah I think we're good!"
So we ran out with just enough for about 30 more minutes of fire.

Soon after that we all piled into our tiny tent for the night. We decided it really wasn't that bad. 
This is an example of
 a)trying to make the most of things and
 b)girls lying.

See I dont like touching people in the first place.
I especially don't like touching people when I sleep.
That night I have feet at my head and knees in my ribs and all other sorts of combinations.
We talked for a little bit, and then slowly started to drift asleep. At least we pretended.

Just as I was starting to nod off I suddenly woke up. That's just the worst. When I woke up I instantly started feeling not ok with the situation.
You could feel the tension rising in that sauna of a tent, and the tension almost becoming as suffocating as the heat.
This was going on in my mind:
"I am in a tent...surrounded by body parts...I am sitting in a puddle of my sweat. Well who knows? Its probably not even my sweat...I hate everything. I'm just not going to sleep tonight, and that's fine. Who needs sleep? 
Nope. I'm going to kill everyone.
The cockroach tent? That's an option. 
Nah. I'm just going to kill..."

Suddenly Sydney jumped up and yelled "I CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE."
So she spent the night in the cockroach tent. And nobody was mad about it.