Monday, July 27, 2009

Thanks For Nothing, Dr. Drew

How it SHOULD have played out:

(Brutalism walks into a room full of friends and family members. Everyone looks very serious and as she enters, all eyes are on her. She stiffly takes a seat in the only available chair, and a person she has never seen before begins speaking very calmly.)

Stranger: We understand that you have made a very bad choice recently and we are concerned about you. We think that you might need some help. What is your take on this?

Brutalism: Is this because I had a few dozen too many glasses of wine last night? Because I've read that red wine is GOOD for you. You all need to read more. (She points accusingly at each person around the circle.)

Stranger: No. We are actually gathered here today, as people who love and care about you, for a much more serious reason. We heard that you made plans to go camping this weekend. Camping! YOU!?! We are here to ask you if you will forfeit the camp site you reserved right now. Today. Are you willing to make that change in your life?

How it ACTUALLY played out:

After driving for SEVEN hours (this should be a three hour drive) to get to Virginia Beach, we made our way to the camp site we had reserved (past a clothesline with a huge bra hanging from it and another camp site with a rebel flag displayed proudly out front), to find that the campers before us had left trash everywhere, and that our tent space was situated right next to a mosquito-infested pond full of stagnant water.

We thought about just going straight to my mom's house and giving up on this little adventure. However, because we are the best parents ever lazy, we stuck with our original plan. And after going out to dinner in a restaurant (non Zagat-rated, we were totally roughing it), we came back to sleep in the tent. Mr. Rebel flag and his friends kept us up half the night with the little "south will rise again" party they had going on across the way, and because our tent was on a bit of a slope, Avery kept rolling on top of Canetto in her sleep.

The next morning (after breakfast in another non Zagat-rated restaurant -- sheesh...how much suffering can one woman take?) we headed over to my mom's house for the best shower I have ever had in my entire life.

Happily entering a 12-step program,
Brutalism

11 comments:

dori said...

camping? I don't even know what else to say.

Brutalism said...

Dori - I know, I know...

dilettante07 said...

I can't believe that you were camping right between me and Amy and we never even saw you.

Amy--you really should end your confederate rallies a little earlier when you're in a family campground.

Sorry about the bra--we were using it as a swing.

Brutalism said...

Tante - Sorry. I really should have said "Hi", but was cranky from the drive. Hope the bra-swing was fun (let's face it...swinging is always fun). Especially with daughters of the confederacy...Amy...

Amber Morrison said...

Did you happen to see Charles, running around in his 'lil fucker' t shirt?

Brutalism said...

Amber -- Yes! And with his sippy cup full of Pabst. So cute!!!

John M. said...

You need to follow Step 3:

We came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity -- KOA

Brutalism said...

John - I am a firm believer in the power greater than ourselves being indoor plumbing and air conditioning...

ZenMom said...

This is one of the reasons we love backpacking. We don't have neighbors when we camp. Or, at least, we didn't USED to. Now that we have two Minions under 5 in tow, we do end up in campgrounds with, um, distractions, like you describe. Here's hoping it hasn't completely ruined you on the camping experience. It can be fun! :)

Brutalism said...

ZenMom - We have had positive experiences with camping. When we did a big trip out west and were at some really lovely sites with other travelers who were very courteous. It was peaceful and nice and not at all like what we experienced this past weekend. I'm sure that backpacking is even nicer...far away from the beer bashes...

Jason said...

Sounds like a pretty standard (the word "normal" popped into my head but certainly doesn't apply where Brutalism is concerned) camping experience to me. Now, if the oversize brassiere were the confederate flag you'd have a real story.

For your next trip I suggest two letters: 'R' and 'V'. Now that would make for a fine blog entry.