Nisondiya {Joy}

I really want to go camping. Despite my dislike for bugs, I really am a get dirt under my finger nails kinda girl. I’m ready to smell dirt again. I remember the first - and only - time I went camping. It was in good ole Bertie County, in someone’s back yard that lived in the middle of nowhere. It was scary, but oh so cool. I want to camp where the stars are.

I went through this stage of wanting to live in Montana for the longest time when I was sixteen/seventeen. I still have to say I could deal with a very long stay there. I want to cook something that took effort to find and kill. I want to taste sweet victory of actually eating it too.

Within me, there’s this girl (or maybe it’s a woman now?), that would love roughin’ it outside for a week or three. I want there to be dirt on my feet. I want to forge for my own supply of berries, and know which ones are those I can eat. I want to know the difference between the Milky Way and the other stars. I want to be able to tell my direction by looking at the sun, or trees, or whatever it is you do.

I just want to go camping really badly. But I’m just too scared to try it out in my backyard because there is this possum that lurks every night, and I promise you he is the size of a small dog. Not a Taco Bell size dog, but a beagle size. That, and I’ve yet to find anyone that shares this desire to camp, and/or would actually really do so. Maybe I’ll get a chance in Africa? I’ve heard we may be staying a week in a village - which includes camping out under the stars type of thing, with outdoor showers, bathrooms, and just about everything I am praying for right now. Please?