With a little help from my friends, I have recently come to terms with the fact that I will be very ill-suited for survival when nuclear armageddon occurs. (Plus I really just like using terms like “nuclear armageddon” to find who the hell searches for that stuff. Tee hee.)

Anyway. L’affianced made us last minute reservations at Yosemite this weekend, which is quite a feat as I believe their camp sites have been booked up since oh, last spring. He scored this one by dint of his father’s malfunctioning printer – his phone cut off when the pater called, and when he called back, somehow magically they had a spot. I heart that printer.

After the initial euphoria of this development wore off, I realized, “Oh crap. I haven’t been camping in like 15 years.” It’s kind of like when the lights go off, and you keep flipping on switches no matter how many times you tell yourself it won’t do any good. When packing, I kept having to remind myself that this is not like a normal trip – I won’t be able to just flip the switch on the coffee pot, or dry my bangs in the morning to keep them from looking funny. Oy.

Even though we are going for a total of one (1) day, the packing process took me a long time, and I’m convinced I’ve omitted many crucial things simply because I never think about how much I need them. So you see, when nuclear annihilation comes, it will take me quite a while to remember that there’s nowhere left to plug in my hairdryer.

Survival skills? Not so much.