Intrepid Adventurer

Well, like the outdoorswoman I am, I'm off camping this weekend. Deanna and I are hitting the not-town with an old friend of mine and her family. Thinking back, it occurs to me that I've never been camping.

Well, I went once with Girl Guides, but we slept inside a big hall. I got stuck near the bathroom door. I've never been the most popular kid in the bunch. Stuck beside the bathroom door and the kid that smelled. She was my friend but man, was she a smelly!

Now, I'm camping about half an hour away from my house, tops, so it doesn't really qualify as roughing it. But if anyone's going to run into a bear or get killed by the local crazy man living in the wild, it's going to be me. To that end, I'm going to avoid honey at all costs as well as wild men with extra scraggly beards.

Don't worry though, I've seen Brokeback Mountain. I know what camping's like. I imagine my weekend will be much the same only without the sheep and horses and mountain. Presumably I won't be having sex with Heath Ledger and/or Jake Gyllenhall in a tent that I'll be sharing with my sister and friend. So really, not a lot like Brokeback Mountain. I imagine that there will be trees though. Possibly even some beans.

Deanna informs me that the place she goes camping every year has shower facilities. What? Showers? Outrage! What happened to the good old days where you heated up your water in a kettle over the fire and poured it over yourself with a tin cup?

Expect an unhealthy number of pictures.