This post was in draft format which leads me to believe I never actually published it.  So it is old, as in from May 2010 but everything I say in it is still pretty relevant so for your reading pleasure (?) I give you my post on camping:

I hate camping.

There, I said it.


I didn't think I was such a city girl until a recent trip into the wilderness, that was actually not a wilderness at all but more of a field behind a business within the city limits where the Beavers and Cubs and Scouts etc camp out.  All weekend long. 

Even though it is within the city, it was still dark and there were still trees around and the moon still looked really big and scary and I'm pretty sure I heard a bear out in the trees.  In fact I thought I heard him so many times that it got to the point where I actually imagined him coming out of the "woods" and eating all the kids and the guy with the really tall hat because he looked appetizing to bears.  Just my opinion though.

I mean, I'm not really sure why I hate camping so much.  Look how cute I was in 2004 in front of a tent!

(and yes that was the last time I was ever in a tent)

In fact, I gave that tent away to a bunch of teenagers shortly after R died.  They probably made babies in it or something. 

The truth is, the real reason I hate camping is because one time my cousin and I wanted to have a camp out in my grandma's backyard.  She reluctantly said yes but made sure to leave the back door open so we had somewhere to go pee should the need arise in the middle of the night, you know, so we didn't end up pissing in her rose bushes and stuff.  Grandmas are wise though, and she pleaded with us to have a camp out in the living room instead, but we would have nothing of it and we continued on pitching our tent in the middle of her backyard. 

Unfortunately it rained a lot that night.
Luckily for us the tent stayed dry inside.
Unfortunately when we opened the zipper to the tent that morning a pile of earwigs fell out of the creases.

Earwigs.  I am more afraid of earwigs than I am spiders.  I am almost as afraid of earwigs as I am of SCORPIONS. 

I'm sure there were only a few that fell out of the creases, but I seem to remember there being a whole waterfall of earwigs.  My cousin ran out of the tent, but I was too afraid to leave, fearing that one of these terrible little creatures (seriously, what exactly is their purpose?) would fall in my hair, or my eye, or down my pants (because there truly is nothing more terrible than an earwig in your pants).  I just read on Wikipedia that earwigs can fly.  Thank you Wikipedia for ruining my life. 

I stayed in the tent pretty much all morning, until I was sure not one more of these little creatures was nowhere near the tent.  This is part of the reason why I hate camping.  It could also be that I appreciate running water, toilets that are not holes in the ground that contain bee hives and toothbrushes.  I appreciate not being eaten by a bear while I sleep or being murdered by Jason

My mom tried to send me to camp one year.  I remember being extremely nervous but being excited about my new tube of sparkly fruity toothpaste and new bottle of sunblock that smelled like candy.  When I got to the bus, the camp counselors checked my hair and declared in front of everybody that I had head lice and that I couldn't go to camp.  It turns out I actually didn't have lice, just a bad case of dry scalp, and I got to spend a super fun week with my cousin which made me realize that camp sucked and cousins are more fun.

When R. was alive, I tried to like camping for him (see picture above).  He was the outdoors type.  Always wanting to go fishing, canoeing, camping.  I tried so hard to impress him by trying to like these things.  It was exhausting.  A few weeks after I had Mason, while still recovering from a c-section and pretty serious infection, I decided I was going to go ice fishing with the boys.  My feet still hadn't returned to "normal" size so I didn't fit into my winter boots so I wore my runners. 

I froze my ass off all day long. 

We didn't catch one single fish.

My feet had never been (nor have they since) been that cold in my entire life.

and I decided that day that I would no longer try to like something that I had absolutely no interest in just to fit in.

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Hello..this is my blog. I bought this fancy theme and I don't know what to write here just yet. Maybe one day remind me I have to write something inspiring here?


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