Skip to my loo. My Lovable Loo.

Prophetic? Or pathetic?  Well, if you go back to my last post, you will see that I tempted Fate with some BS about bringing on the rain.  So...duh.  I lost my pocket camera, a book of checks (although Costco was able to process one really damp check this evening), some actual books, and a sponge masquerading as a roll of precious toilet paper, in the mini-flood that happened in my tent on Saturday night.  To be fair, if I had zipped up my tent door that last 2 inches before the rain, I think I would have been fine.  Seriously, like 2 inches or less, of the last teeny, tiny, little bit of the zipper fly got stuck to the inside of the tent, and I had like a gallon of water in there on my water-tight floor right where I was storing all my shee-ite.

(So here I am setting up the Nylon Palace.  Nice and dry at that point.  Nature can be so cruel.)

But we were having a great time in the lean-to on the other side of camp in the pouring rain, drinking, going tribal with wet M&Ms, eating mostly dry and still slightly warm brussel sprouts and cauliflower (more on that later), and, I think I mentioned, drinking.  So it was fun, even with the rain.  And I've always felt like a really miserable camping trip is a fabulous bonding experience.  Mission accomplished.  Bonding complete.  Plus I got to use both the fold-up rain coat and my Nature Conservancy umbrella.

So, let's review the portable not-peeing-in-the-woods devices that I took along, shall we?

First, we have the folding toilet seat that can be used with or without an attached plastic bag (on the left in this photo -- I've spared you the shot of me licking the toilet seat), but has no lid and a bag-retaining rim that falls off if you even consider looking at it.  Without a lid, unless you're replacing the bag every time, it seems kind of stupid to use the bag, because, well, yuck.  This one worked best the one time I trudged into the woods (which was never very far, because you can see forever in this area and there didn't seem to be much point in trudging out farther so that the view of my parts would be only a bit smaller and blurrier, and please ask me why every frickin' time I went to the bathroom out there, some stupid hunters would drive by.  Slowly.  Then turn around and come back.  Slowly.)...where was I?  Oh yes, trudging into the woods with the lidless potty.  And my adze.  This lidless seat is actually quite good for sitting over a hole that you've dug, doing your business, and then covering it up.  Saves the thighs.  (I guess that's why old people don't camp so much.)  But really, the star potty performer was the Luggable Loo (I'm groping the lid with great affection in the photo).  That thing is awesome.  Lived up to the rave reviews on Amazon (if I'm ever in a situation without water/sewer connection, I want this thing), and literally saved my ass and other body parts in the pouring rain at 3 am.  Because Nature DID frickin' call post-brussel sprouts, cauliflower and alcohol in a pretty heavy rain.  I mean, I fought it for like 3 hours (because the bitch rang me up at midnight), but then Nature's call could no longer be ignored.  As promised, I answered with the Luggable Loo, which I'm going to rename, the Lovable Loo.  At 3 am, in the dark with a very soggy roll of TP that kept breaking apart, struggling to hold my umbrella in the rain, sitting on my safe, sanitary, black plastic seat (that was dry because it has a LID), I fell in L-O-V-E, instead of into some chipmunk hole in the woods (or maybe a rabbit hole, because I think Chip and Dale were tree dwellers, at least at Warner Bros.).  And there you have it -- the Luggable Loo is really lovable.  I will not camp without it in future, and given the frequency of drive-bys while unsucessfully trying to duck behind ferns while on the pot, I am considering buying the Loo it's own privacy shelter.  Take that, you stupid hunters.  [Update: You know I couldn't live without a portable pop-up privacy hut for the privy.  Because I'm really not pooping in the woods on any future trips.  And thanks to the wonders of Amazon Prime, HERE IT IS!!!  ===>

Looks good in my living room, doesn't it?]

Camping was a lot of work, but totally fun, and made me crazy nostalgic for my old Girl Scout buddy burner and vagabond stove -- I've made two buddy burners since I got home and bought the ginormous number 10 cans of green beans and other assorted giant cans of food necessary to make the cooking surface/stoves over the burners tonight.  Look for a vagabond stove conflagration in my neighborhood soon.

Meanhile, I'll post the photos from the expedition (taken by those Divas who DIDN'T lose the charge in their phones within hours of arrival and DIDN'T let their sleeping quarters flood in the rain -- lesson learned; I get it) as soon as possible, like in the morning.  I'm only up now because I'm waiting for a yogurt cheesecake to cool off a bit.  Is that so wrong? 

Ena and I did some Yee on the trip right before the heavens opened.  (Maybe it was a sign.)  But I'm still pudgy and squidgy and middle-aged.

Look for Ena's Diva Camping trip blog (which will be much more interesting and informative and probably have less potty stuff) soon.  I'll post a link (like I know how).

Update:  No, I didn't post those dang photos right away, because I actually had to do some work.  But I'll post a few here and maybe some more with my latest brain infarction exploring the relationship between camping and beans, coming to this blog by the weekend.  Here you go.

In the driveway, before departure.  Of course we look good.  It doesn't last long.

And for contrast -- 1.5 days later in rain, post alcohol and soggy M&Ms.  (Yeah, It's a good look.  I was awake all night with the rain and the brussel sprouts/cauliflower colon expansion deal (not to mention alcohol, which I'm pretty sure I mentioned), and started chipping away at the blue candy-coated shell on my face sometime about 4 a.m.  I left a surprising amount of it on my pillow.  And on my face.  Lookin' really good on Sunday morning.  But I'm not a morning person anyway, so who cares.) Thanks to Ena, Mary J, and Julie for making this such a fun trip. 

I totally love this shot -- freakazoid Lola imprisoned in the Nylon Palace against her will.  She is the neediest little sh!t on the planet -- chewed a leash apart when I left her in camp alone to go up the hill for FB reception (that was before the phone battery died and I found out I brought the wrong cable for a recharge).  She would have ripped the tent to shreds if I hadn't left her a peep hole.

And the boo-boos sharing McD's french fries in the car, because what's the rule?  The rule is that I get to have a cheeseburger and fries whenever I do a road trip.  So we all had fries on the way up and back.  The doggies likey the fries.  (Look how cute they are!!  Thanks Ena, for taking such great photos.)

Because it's never a good idea to wrestle a wet tent with a poodle after two glasses of white "table" wine.

Well, I admit it, I've been a little bit depressed lately.  Just not feeling the working out/bloggin' thing.  I'm STUCK around 115 pounds, still a bit squidgy, and would like to lose 5 more pounds.  But, on the plus side, I was worse a year ago.  I'm trying to Bring It, but Ena hurt her back, so I have no motivation, and my sister can only work out like once a week, and that's at 8 or 9 at night my time, which is when I'm usually on my second drink, so it's not my preferred schedule.  I do, however, continue to try.

The BIG excitement this week is a camping trip!  Yes, squeeze me and squeal like a 10-year-old girl, I'm frickin' excited about camping.  It's like being a Girl Scout again, but with WAY better equipment.  I don't even care if the heavens open up like it's the friggin' apocolypse.  I am ready.  I've got a cool fold-up-into-a-bag rain coat, a sizeable umbrella, a tarp for under the tent, and a brand new two-room four/five-man tent for myself and two doggies, and I'm ready to rock.  Let it rain -- I'ma be chillin' in my tent with my homies on an air mattress with wool blankie, 800TC sheets, fleece, and a cotton quilt topper.  And if nature calls (hello?), I'ma answer on one of my two new I'm-not-peeing-in-the-woods pottie chairs.  Oh yes, it is possible to competely avoid nature while camping. 

Oh, and wrestling with the tent and the poodle?  Well, I did what was supposed to be a "dry" run with the new tent last night.  Easy-breezy slap up the tent in the front yard and make sure it's all there, check the size...you know.  But there must be some rule about putting up a tent.   I'm busy fighting the wind and running around to four corners of this nylon palace, when it starts to frickin' rain.  Yes, there IS a rule that if you put up a tent it must rain before you can get inside.  But I got the thing up and it was awesome and comfy -- so comfy that I couldn't get Lola the little-poodle-who-doesn't-know-she's-about-to-camp out of the tent!  Glad she likes it, because it's about to be home for two days.  Anyhoo, the wet run went pretty well -- only stepped on the poodle twice and I learned not to try to put the poles into the corner thingies until the end, and those two left over poles probably go in the rain fly.  So I won't look like an amateur when I camp and it was all worth it.  Maybe I'll turn into a "camper!"  I've certainly got all the sh!t now.

So, I'll update after the big trip -- am taking the Yee so we can yoga in the great out of doors, assuming my ipod holds out.  And maybe my special Old Gringos with the rhinestones, so that I can feel like I'm stylin in the wilderness.  And some champagne.  Lots of champagne.

Is it a groove, or a 115.4 pound rut?

Yeah, still not feelin' the blogging thing.  But I don't have much to report.  I'm in a self-improvement rut.  I'm totally stuck at 114.4, or 115.4, depending on time of day, month, and spot on the bathroom floor.  I'm Bringin' It with Ena and/or Steve whenever possible, but schedules do not always permit (we only got to Bring It once this week), so then I have to rely on my sporadic Skype workouts with my sister in St. Paul.  The good news is that I am actually starting to miss working out when I don't do it.  Yeah!  Because motivating to do the workout has always been like 99.8% of my problem.  So last weekend, when I was left to my own devices, I intentionally went for a walk (which would have worked out better without the toy poodle that pooped out after 20 minutes and had to be carried home), and then ripped up my abs with the ol' Ab Ripper X -- sixteen minutes of ab-tastic fun with "in-and-outs," "crunchy frogs," and "mason twists."  Yeah, it's as fun as it sounds.  But even with sparse work outs, I think I'm seeing some improvement -- the layer of fat on my arms is less dimply and I feel less like a breakfast muffin in my jeans and stuff.  I think if I keep it up, I might eventually get back into shape.  It just may be more like P900X -- what's that, like 2.5 years? 

So today was a good day -- Ena and I did shoulders, back and triceps, PLUS Ab Ripper X, and then I did 50 minutes of Power Yoga with my sister and the Yee tonight.  Now if I can only work out like maybe one or two more times this week.  And for the rest of my frickin' life.  Sigh.  SO depressing.  The Crazy Bitches of New Jersey are my only solace -- I can always rely on them for some excellent cussing, fighting, more cussing, some unnecessary scary plastic surgery, fighting again, and then some more cussing with Jersey accents.  All good and I feel better.  And classier, Bitch!