Rambling Thoughts Beginning Precisely NOW

You know, realistically if one wanted to employ the help of forest animals to accomplish tasks (a la Sleeping Beauty or any other animated Disney flick wherein the soprano princess warbles in a key usually reserved for dogs speaking to one another and accomplishes any number of things with the help of her furry forest friends), one would have to look no further than the mighty raccoon. Sure, they're vicious little buggers, evil, evil Machiavellian monsters and all that, but (and I'd say bear with  me [ha ha] but this post literally has no direction, so your guess is as good as mine)...where was I?


Sure, they're terrifying little sh*ts, but...one can't argue with the usefulness of opposable thumbs. Not only could raccoons thatch a mean roof or tie a solid knot, but they could indicate via thumbs up that they've not only completed the task and are ready for the next but also that they're totally happy to do so. Bears, despite being adorable and vicious, are also enormous and clumsy. 

"Who me? Well, I'm not really of much use here so
I thought I'd relax with a lemonade while the rest
of you set up camp."

Badgers seem far too sinister to accomplish much, since the entire time you'd be checking over your shoulder in fear that the inevitable uprising has reached a boiling point. Foxes rely on all fours to do anything, so asking a fox to carry your canteen and walk at the same time would be a near-impossible task better suited to dogs, since dogs are friendlier anyway. 

"Hear that, sly fox? BOOYAH."

I suppose the point in bringing all this up is to mention that I'm going camping this weekend, and I'm magnificently bereft any and all skills pertaining to outdoor survival. Sure, I'm from Oregon, where we come mountain trained and certified from birth, but guys, I've been slipping into a California coma for the past nine years and I don't think there's a defibrillator big enough to jolt me out of it. I love bathrooms. And running water. And fountain stations overflowing with Diet Coke and cubed ice for the taking. And Ikea mattresses. Oh! And Internet! Did I mention how much I love the Internet? I love you, Internet. 

Anyway, all that to say, I fear becoming the girl I hate the very most, the one that's utterly incapable of doing anything for herself and mewls at everyone else to do it for her. Hence enlisting the help of my masked bandit little friends. Because the thought of whining, "Um, I can't dooooo this. Ugh, where's slot A and pole B? Guys? Guyyyyys?" makes me feel like this: 

I expressed my fear to Jessica over iChat today and this is her advice:

LD: so I feel like all my unlikable bits are going to be exposed this weekend when people realize that I don't know how to put up a tent, and don't really know how to be in the wilderness
JK: No just be like the girl who "doesn't know how to play poker"
LD: I hate that girl. Therefore, this weekend, I hate myself. 
JK: Hmmmm - you could pretend to be bad ass the whole time and say things like
"What? a tent? I've never used one of theeeese before. I normally sleep on bears when I 'camp'."
"THIS is what you guys call the wilderness? Really? There aren't even lions out here"
...And then just get drunk
LD: You know, that's a magnificent idea
JK: If anyone could pull it off it would be you.
LD: It's true. I have a fur hat.


So there you have it. 

Raccoons? I don't need any raccoons to help me set up my tent. When I camp, God just usually smiles at me, and a perfectly formed tree grows right there on the spot and I share the biggest branch with a panther.* And an ax. 

Goodnight, ladies, ladies good night. 

*Former Dillon Panther Tim Riggins would also work. In case you were wondering. 

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