Into the Wild

I'm not a very nature-y person. I definitely envy people who are wholesome and outdoorsy, like my sisters. People who hear the word "camping" and think "I'm going to have a great time" and not "I'm going to get eaten by a bear."

I have a completely irrational, totally stupid and yet entirely unyielding fear that I am going to eaten by a lion in a very particular way. And I have anxiety dreams about wild animals all the time, usually ones that involve me trying to Get Indoors and instead being singled out by said wild animals to be eaten.

My mom says she used to have similar dreams about tigers until she decided to "be the tiger." Her advice to me was to "be the lion." So sometimes I tell A, "I am the lion." It is not really helping yet.

Also, as anyone who has ever been outdoors with me knows, I don't like when things land on me, especially bugs (though this also extends to airplanes, etc.). Even lady bugs. I especially resent bugs that are "harmless" and therefore somehow to be welcomed in food, clothes, etc.

The last time I went "camping" I spent the entire weekend in our cabin watching re-runs of The West Wing.

So even though I like the idea of being outside in theory--like hiking is nice, if it's a pretty well-trafficked trail and I get to go home at the end--in reality, I am afraid of being outside. I don't even like some particularly not-domesticated parts of Central Park.

But tomorrow, in the spirit of doing things that are outside my comfort zone, I'm getting in a car with four friends for 8 hours or so and going camping in some place in northern Botswana that is best known for how desolate it is.

Also, there are lions. Wish me luck. See you Sunday.