I appreciate the guest post, Jewel Rodgers.
Last night I was at a bar on the East Side of the city. I’ve made some new friends from the church I attend, and they’re what I like to call “hipsters.” They always know the places to be and look as though they just stepped out of an Urban Outfitters catalog. I’ve accepted the fact that I don’t exactly fit in with this crowd, but I like to think that they enjoy the contrast I offer. Last night everyone was talking about an upcoming music festival, which I was planning to attend, when they mentioned tents. Yes, tents. I hesitated at first and then thought it would be best to get it out in the open, I’m an indoors girl. I don’t go anywhere that doesn’t give me access to a microwave, blowdryer, EXPERTsatellite … The one and only time I camped was at a birthday party in the 4th grade. It lasted for all of an hour when I decided to forge though the darkness and walk four houses down so that I could sleep in my own bed. If this music festival camping is some sort of initiation, I’ve already failed. And I’m completely fine with that.