Yeah, I know. WHAT?!?!
I don’t know if you’ve been able to glean from past blog posts that I am not exactly what you would call “outdoorsy.” I’m obsessed with make-up and sometimes-absurd beauty tricks. I wear heels almost all the time. I really like washing my hands. A lot. I hate to be dirty. I could go on and on, but you get the idea. I’m prissy. At least I will admit it, right?
I have a friend who throws a huge party every year at her farm house, about an hour and a half away. It always sounds like such a blast! Delicious barbecue spread, a bluegrass band, the rolling hills and Blue Ridge Mountains in the background, a fire pit and, of course, plenty of booze make this party seem like a grand, old, country good time! This has been the first year I’ve been able to go, and I was looking forward to kicking up my heels! (Yes, I am picturing myself as an adorable, freckle-faced cowgirl cartoon jumping up in the air and clicking my heels together.)
When I read “pass the livestock exchange and Slaughter Road” in the directions to the farm, I realized I may be a bit out of my element. When the guy I’ve been dating said we should stay over and camp out, I realized this fun foray into the country was quickly spiraling out of control!
Manfriend: We should stay over and camp out!
KB: What?!
Manfriend: Yeah, let’s just stay over so we don’t have to drive back that night.
KB: Wait, so you mean, like, camping? Sleeping outside??
MF: We’d be in a tent.
KB: Yeah! Exactly!!
MF: It will be fun.
KB: Have you been camping?!
MF: Uh… I was an eagle scout, so yeah. I’ve done my fair share of camping.
(Editor’s note, I know he said he’s an eagle scout, but he is cool—now, at least. I’m guessing his high school days were pretty different than mine were, as he went to debate team meets and I went to parties. He’s pretty cute now, though, and we’ve all got “sordid” pasts we’d rather forget, right?)
KB: Right, right… Well, can you really see me camping?!
MF: Ha! You’re right. That is funny. We could come home instead of staying over.
KB: No, no. It’ll be an adventure. Just a few things I need to get straight before I agree to this, though:
- I really like to wash my hands a lot, and I will not go to the bathroom in a hole in the ground. We will need to confirm that our tent door can open directly into the door to the house with proper bathrooms.
- What about bears and coyotes? Let’s face it, by the time I go to bed, I will be pretty beer-marinated and tasty. What are we going to do to make sure I don’t get eaten?
- Speaking of bears, are we going to have to tie our stuff up in a tree? I’ve heard you should do that.
- What should I bring? A mess kit? We always had to take those when we went girl scout camping… in a cabin… Actually, I only did that maybe twice, I hated it so much. A Swiss army knife? What about a switch blade? I don’t have a Swiss army knife, but my grandpa did give me a switch blade for “protection” for Christmas one year. What about a bandana? I’m not sure what I’d do with that, but people camping in movies always have bandanas. And, all the Survivor castaways are always wearing bandanas. So, good idea?
MF: What?! You are crazy (side note, I’d like to think he means that adorable type of crazy, not “I’m slowly backing away now” type of crazy. Jury’s still out). All you need is a sleeping bag, and we’ll borrow a tent.
KB: A sleeping bag?!?! Do you have a sleeping bag!?
MF: Of course I have a sleeping bag! Don’t you have one?
KB: Why would I have a sleeping bag??
MF: For things like camping!
KB: …
MF: Right.
So. I’m going camping. People keep telling me that it’s not REAL camping, but I will be sleeping outside, in a tent in bear country. What more does it take to be REAL camping?? (Ok, the manfriend did send me multiple maps of where “bear country” actually is, and none of them overlapped with where I’ll be. Still. You never know. I’ve seen the news reports about bears coming closer and closer to civilization.)
The Lady of the Farm House has assured me that I may have full access to the bathrooms and, while she won’t be sleeping outside, she may not be sleeping at all, rather sitting beside the fire drinking much of the night. Now, THAT’S the type of camping I can get behind!
