Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Because Civilization is overrated.

The Man and I are going camping this weekend.

(I just called and cancelled the acupuncture appointment. Who knew? I was double-booked!)

This will be our first camping trip together. That rumble you hear may be the approaching hoofbeats of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

Anyway. Camping is something that The Man's brother and his wife and their friends are into. They have repeatedly invited us to come, and we have always dithered about it and turned them down. Usually what it came down to was that my husband didn't want to go, because he is a total homebody.

It wasn't until there were repeated comments about my propensity for girlieness, AKA high heels and makeup and their incompatibility with camping, that made me realize- they thought it was ME! They thought I was the one who was putting the kibosh on the whole thing. (I do not want to speculate that my husband may have used me as an excuse to deflect blame...but he's done it before.)

So...we discussed it, and decided that maybe camping would be a good way to get out of the house a little more and spend positive time with The Man's brother and his friends. Hence another goal that we both made as a unit this year- we are going to entertain more often (more than the yearly event at Christmas Eve, anyway)and also to make an more of an effort socially (this one is mostly him.)

So The Man asked for, and received, a tent for Christmas. We made a list of stuff to bring, including dogs (why? WHY? He just wants to bring them.) The Man checked the campsite info, and realized not only that dogs are allowed, but the place has Wi-Fi. The irony of this is killing me, but he of course is delighted by it.

I went through my stash of cold weather clothing, because we will be in Big Sur and it will be freaking COOOOOLD. This is when I realized that I am inadequate, clothingwise, for camping. I have one plain black V-neck wool sweater. And about 30 more that are made of cashmere, lacy, and/or sparkly.

I do not own any sweats. I do have some tracksuits from a bygone era, but every time I wear them my sister-in-law has a tendency to make innocent comments about "looking like J-Lo", and I really want to avoid an international incident.

I do have jeans and sneaks and hiking boots. (Oh, and one black thermal top with a skull and crossbones on it. I don't know where it came from, which is a little freaky-deaky.) I suspect that the reason I can't find my silk long underwear is because I inadvertantly donated it to DAV. (Oops.) So I am not completely screwed.

My hair will be a big old snarly curly creature of the night, because we'll be close to the ocean, so I won't have to worry about styling it, because running a brush through it will be impossible. Makeup will be minimal. No biggie. I can do this., If all goes completely awry, we totally have a backup plan. I will have access to a house in Carmel for the weekend. (Shhh...don't tell on me.)

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