Not such a good idea

When XGF returned my call this afternoon -- I had called demanding to know if she had given her life to Jesus -- she read me the riot act on two counts.

First, she wondered how I could ever take seriously the concept that she had started dating men "because it's the right thing to do, according to God." Well, I *did* think it was a joke, but the person who repeated it to me wasn't so sure. So I got concerned. There are plenty of weird things that have been going down with XGF this past year or so -- fainting spells, "heart attacks," getting lost on Mt. St. Helen's and needing to be rescued by professionals, etc. -- so I worry at times that just about *anything* is possible with her.

Anyway, she thought I was stupid for taking that comment seriously.

Second, she wondered what on earth ever possessed me to agree (truth be told: I SUGGESTED IT) to go camping on Mt. St. Helen's with The Asian and her husband.

"I do believe," XGF said, "that I swore I would *never* go camping with you again. You are *horrible* when you camp. Absolutely HORRIBLE. If you go camping with them, you have to be prepared that you may never speak to them again."

You mean they may never speak to *me* again? I asked.

"That's what I mean. The chances are they would hate you," she said. "If you want to keep them as friends, it's far better for everyone if they just go camping by themselves. I don't even know *why* you would agree to that."

Do the rest of you wonder just WHAT I could have done when XGF and I went camping together?

I guess that one time we went... I started.

"Twice. We went twice."

Twice? There was that time we went to Swift Reservoir. What was the other?

"We went with Karin," she reminded me.

Oooooh. The MacKenzie River. A repressed memory came to the surface. I grimmaced.

"Yeah, *that.* And I don't know WHAT I was thinking the second time I did that with you," she said. "You are simply AWFUL when it comes to camping."

If I went into the dark corners of my mind in search of those moments -- the things I said and did that got me such a bum rap with XGF -- I could probably recount some of them. They are moments of shame, I'm sure. One harrowing scene at a guard shack comes to mind. And then, there's the matter of setting up the tent. But let's not talk about that.

Personally, I think I've probably figured out some better ways to deal with the grizzly hostility that seems to be called forth in me by the experience of car camping in a large campground. I'd like to say that the jolly nature with which I pulled myself out of a nasty, brackish pond and sustained an attack by a porcupine tree in the Amazon is proof I've come a LONG way, baby. But the truth is: I had a shower (of sorts) and a bug-proofed, open-air cabana and a pleasantly cozy bed to which I would return that night. In other words, I wasn't "camping."

When it comes to that form of so-called fun, I've never gotten over some of the minor infractions I experience at the hands of mother nature, including an aching back from "sleeping" on the ground. (Quotation marks used to enhance the dubious meaning of the word under these circumstances.) I don't like getting dirty. Or, rather, dirty when I can't shower. Also, there is the matter of the unhappy odor I called "camp hooch" when talking to S2 about it this afternoon (before XGF's call).

XGF, however, sees these problems as the least of my concerns. In no uncertain terms, she suggested I call The Asian and her husband immediately and tell them I won't go camping with them.

"If you want," she offered, "I'll call them myself. I'll tell them what a mistake would be."

Apparently, it's a matter of public safety that I never go camping again. ... It sounds creepy when it's put that way. But I kind of like having that excuse.

I called The Asian and her husband and left a message. You know, I started, maybe camping isn't such a good idea after all. I've hurt my tailbone recently, and ...