explosive camping

Went camping with three of my friends this weekend in Morro Bay. It was obviously friggin' awesome, but like most amazing things, you had to be there, so writing about it is futile because it will never really capture how great it was. I am only typing this entry to tell you that I accidentally threw a lighter into the campfire, and it blew up like a bomb, BOOM! I was trying to throw dirt into the firepit to put out the flames, so we could go wander somewhere and drink beer--unfortunately, the lighter was sitting in the pile of dirt I happened to grab. I threw it all in and then saw the lighter sitting there, purple and plastic and completely engulfed in flames. "Shit!" I yelled. "What?" asked my friends. "I need a stick, I need a--" BOOOOM! My friends stared at the (still-going) fire, stunned, their faces covered in ash. The smell of burnt plastic wafted into the air.

It was terrifying and then hilarious.

saving ankles

So up until now, I haven't really mentioned my father at all in this blog. That's because he and I never talk. It's not really a big deal, we get along (sort of), we just don't gab on the phone daily the way my mother and I do. But this morning at 7:20 am, out of nowhere, he calls me from Vancouver, where my family is vacationing. He's been out jogging, he says, and just called to say hi because the view was so breathtaking. Make sure you're careful not to twist your ankles when you run. Okay, that's all, bye, he says, and hangs up.

It's very rare for my dad to do something affectionate, so I thought I'd write it here.

boys are all talk

So I'm out with three guy friends, watching the UFC tournament (truly the most painful thing I've ever seen), and they're being objectifying and manly, as usual, and laughing at me because I seem bored, and threatening to go to a strip club, which I guess is supposed to be the penultimate form of torture for a girl when she's out with her guy friends. So finally, I said, "Fine, let's go to a strip club!" which was followed by a brief dumbfounded silence and everybody filing into my car somewhat baffledly. We're almost there, when I hear quietly in the back seat, "I don't wanna go to a stripclub..." which led to a conversation (*not* instigated by me) about how it was not a turn-on to watch women objectify themselves to try to make ends meet for themselves and whatever kid they're trying to put through school. So we turned around and went back home.

Inside, I am laughing still.