That Time I Went Camping, or When There's a Thunderstorm You Die

I've never been camping. In my life. Ever.

I have no desire to sleep outside, in the dirt, under trees, with bugs and creatures. Camping also usually involves lakes, which I do not do.

I don't understand why we worked so hard, as humans, to evolve and build sophisticated and comfortable homes to live in just to turn around and sleep outside. Our ancestors would be appalled.

But last week all my friends were going camping. I knew they would be having fun and making memories without me. WHICH IS UNACCEPTABLE. No joy or happiness is allowed without me.

So I put on my big girl pants and I went camping.

And I had fun.

I only stayed for one night, because hello, I have always assumed I'd hate camping. I didn't want to be miserable and ruin everyone's trip. I'm so courteous.

But really, it wasn't bad, for the one night. The best part was my BFF Helen is the one who goes camping every year with her family and childhood friends. I have been graciously adopted into the group. Which means that Helen's supremely awesome mother made sure we were well fed. We just had to show up with a travel mug for camp coffee.

I was provided with a tent and air mattress, since due to the fact I have a ROOF and a BED I've never needed them.

Basically I was fairly pampered. I've heard the rest of the week was just as pampering, so next year I'm thinking I'll stay a few more nights.

But not the whole week, I'm not that delusional.

some of my chucklehead camping buddies

the tent had a doggie door!

 

 

before and after. you don't need this much stuff to stay in a hotel.

surveying the unpacking chaos

the neighbors had some interesting outfits

koala-ing is required