Bea's going camping!!! And she's very excited.
I'm still under the weather but am going to make the best of it. I'll just do what I did last week at our party and mask the symptoms and general feeling of crappiness with lots and lots of booze. Oddly enough, I felt better the day after drinking straight for 7 hours than I had all week. I'm going to follow that logic this weekend.
It's been ages since I have camped. Even longer since I have camped in the wilderness. The last bout of camping I did was on the small island I grew up on, and it usually entailed camping in this little campground called Mouat's Provincial Park. You know your province is hurting for provincial parks when they designate a small parcel of land immediately adjacent to the town.
Shoot, we ran out of hots dogs, toilet paper AND vodka... I'll be back in five minutes.
Actually, often times, while my friends were "camping" in this psuedo-wilderness environment, I would just head to my folks' place and sleep in a comfy bed. Yep, Bea knows how to rough it!
OK, so I sound like a princess, but in truth, sailing in my Dad's sailboat through the Gulf Islands was a bigger draw than heading out to the wilds of BC. Nothing is more fun than putting your uber right-wing conservative friends together with your conspiracy theory spewing socialist Father in the tightest quarters possible. When tensions run high because your Dad has accused your best friends of ruining the country with their evil capitalistic ideals, there is really no where to go to escape this. True, one could walk 30 feet to the and pout on the bowsprit...
Now THAT is roughing it!
Later Peeps,
Bea
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