Hell Has Definitely Frozen Over

How do I know this?

Because I went camping this past weekend.

Yes.

Camping.

You can stop laughing now.

(Mike said I looked like Kim Kardashian, so I was called "Kim" most of the weekend.)

Sarah and Ryan have this crazy tradition of going camping over Memorial Day Weekend. And I don't mean my kind of camping. I mean actual camping.

Which means in a tent:

And eating outside:

And especially (and most horrifying to me) using an outhouse: Don't let the sunshine, greenery, or nice siding fool you. Seriously. There was just a hole with a pot on top of it inside it. But I would never stay in there long enough to take a picture.

The weather was much nicer than it was last year (yes, yes, Hell froze over last year too), with mostly sunshiny skies. (It rained the entire time last year, which caused me to say I was never doing that again! What can I say? I'm a total pushover.)

This is Sarah and Ryan's tent. Mike took this picture while I was trying to take a nap. I must admit that it was nice to make yummy s'mores. If there was such a thing as a professional s'more maker, Sarah would definitely be it.

And the boys really got the fire blazing: It did get pretty cold at night:

This is Pip:Our chipmunk friend. He lives in several of the trees by our campsite and wasn't afraid of humans at all. When we left, we could hear him chattering in the trees, probably telling us good bye. (Or maybe good ridance, I don't speak chipmunk.)

The morning we were packing up, I was in our tent with the door open, putting away our sleeping bags, WHEN . . . Ryan came walking by. Knowing what he was up too, I yelled at him, "HEY, I CAN SEE YOU!" But he just . . . ignored me. It's so unfair that men can just pee anywhere, while we women are forced to use the gross, disgusting outhouse.