Friday, September 30, 2011

I Think I Did Not Survive

I really, really, really wanted to go camping this summer.  Like, a lot.  I have such fond memories of the summer when my friends and I went camping for like a week, and it took like 8 hours to get there.  I would really love to be able to do that again, but I don't really have any friends here that are campers.  Shit, I don't have any friends here who are really adventurous and would leave for camping trip last minute with me.  I need new friends.

Linda gave me the names of a few places I could go camping.  After extensive research, I have decided that I am not skilled enough to pack in a tent, sleeping bag, air mattress & pump, cooler with food, at least 5 gallons of water, pillow, blanket, dog bed, firewood, clothes, and incidentals all by myself.  Hell, I could even put a little pack-thingy on Phoenix and it still wouldn't be enough.  And to have to carry all that for around 2 miles, hiking.  That's called "backpacking," and I'm not prepared enough to do that.

I looked into a bunch of the little drive-in campsites in the mountains, but I'm so picky about what I want in a campsite - secluded, near water, preferably moving water, campfires allowed, water spigots available, uncrowded - and because tomorrow is October 1st, the campsites that are still open do not meet all my standards.  And they need to have hiking trails and stuff around to explore, thus again my standards are not met by any of the campgrounds within 2 hours of where I live.

So instead it looks like I will be staying home, trying to figure out how to enjoy the weather and not lay on my bed watching TV all day long.  Which is going to be tough.  Maybe I'll clean all the tons of dog poop out of the back yard before the first snow.  It might take 3 hours, considering how long it took last time I tried.  In like May. 

That's really all I can think of.  I am going to go running. 

Yesterday, when I was riding my bike down The Hill from school, I was stopped at a crosswalk/stoplight by an old man I had ridden by while crossing the street.  He told me it was "proper bike etiquette" to warn people before I ride by them that I'm about to ride by them.  I was FUMING the rest of the way home.  I hate, with the passion of 10,000 suns, people who think they have any right to tell me what to do, in any way, shape, or form.  That guy last year who told me to pick up Phoenix's dog poop.  I fumed for days after that one.  As I was driving home, I thought about about a million things I could have said to the guy on the street that would have made me feel better about the situation, but I can never come up with something on the spot like that.  It's my fatal flaw.  Someday, I'm going to be in some situation where I have to come up with a good burn immediately, because I'll have a gun to my head and I'll be shot if I can't come up with a retort off-hand.

Right now, at work, I am watching the Conan documentary of the time between his shows when he was doing live shows and wasn't allowed to be on TV or the internet.  It's awesome, and makes me love him even more.  Except that I am having a bad dizzy spell at the moment and it's making it hard to write and to pay attention.

Okay I think that's over.  I feel better.  I'm having a good day today.  My mood is good, I feel pretty relaxed, and like I have some kind of control over things.  I'm really glad it's Friday.  I wish I had people to go camping with.  I wish I had some semblance of a social life.  But only some days.  Not every day.

That's about it for my thoughts for today.  When I get home, I am grabbing my puppy and going to the puppy-friendly liquor store, aka my favorite place in the world, and then cooking myself a meal of beef stroganoff.  And wine.

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