Well, I GUESS we'll start roughin' it (Lindsay)

It's been three and a half weeks since my last confession.  (wait a minute...)  Oh right, three and a half weeks since we began this crazy idea.  But it's time for me to come clean.  The "we're so cool, we won't shower ever and we're living in a tiny camper" facade has been a bit untrue.  Okay, it's a complete web of lies.  Because we've showered every day in real showers and been living in large houses with access to cookies and cheese since we began.

It's not all our fault.  I mean, who turns down a beautiful condo in the White Mountains, a guest room at the faux in-laws or a random couch in upstate New York just to live in our own space that we paid considerable money to own? 

We feel a bit guilty leaving camper-y in a field alone this entire time but there were mountains to hike and hot showers to take and fetuses (feti?) to celebrate.  And speaking of, when did THIS happen?

  (I'm eating mac and cheese out of a cup. I told you I was roughing it.)

This is my very best friend, Lindsey, and she's well, carrying something inside of her.  Time will only tell what it is.  It was only yesterday when I was pulling her hair while the 4th grade class watched some sad movie about a dog or a deer or something.  She started crying because said movie was, well, sad but the teacher thought she was crying because I was bullying her so I got in trouble.  I loathed Lindsey back then.  But in 5th grade, we suddenly realized we had the same name and everything was butterflies and rainbows.  (apparently I required much less in my early friendships than I do now)

We've been together through all the boyfriends, bad decisions and horrible apartments. I've held her hair back so many times, I don't even have to look at her anymore to find it.  We used to pee our pants from laughing almost every week and now she pees her pants because the feti is pushing against her bladder.  (I must admit, this is a fun new game)  We used to talk for three hours every evening after school and once we solved world peace and then promptly forgot the answer.  We still think it has something to do with green beans.

And this man had something to do with the new growth.

 I love that Lindsey has a cracker in her hand and Kim looks bewildered.

This is Kim.  Kim and I met as freshman in college.  He was drunk and I was crying (unrelated causes) and we were both working at a food co-op in the basement of a sketchy dorm.  (while drunk and crying).  I won't share many stories about Kim because he will find me and threaten my life.  Or he'll send one of his 98 brothers to do the dirty work for him.  In fact, I'm keeping most of the stories secret so I can tell his daughter them instead.  Auntie Hammy has soooooo many good stories to share with this new creature.  "Sure I'll babysit guys.  Let me tell you about the time Kim and I hitchhiked back from Northampton with your Uncle Tristan."  Mwa ha ha. 

But apparently the proof is in the pudding or, in this case, the uterus, and we are, in fact, old.  So Lindsey and Kim will give birth to their little girl while I give birth to my rage baby on the road.

Which brings me back to my original point.  The boy, Keira and I are finally setting out with camper-y tomorrow.  We don't have a reservation and we won't have electricity.  (I still don't understand how the toilet works.)  We're going to hike up one side of Vermont and down the other side of the Adirondacks over the next ten days.  And I promise.

This time - we will smell. 

"An old friend will help you move. A good friend will help you move a dead body. "
Jim Hayes