The Three Never-Evers

I’ve never been camping.  I’ve never been to a sleepover.  I’ve never munched on salmon.  I know there are many camping addicts, sleepover lovers, salmon fiends.  Me, I’ve done okay so far without any of the three.  Here’s why.

Dirty.  That’s what pops into mind when I think of camping.  As you all know from my OHWD, I hate dirt, dust, stickiness, anything that to me is considered, unsanitary.  All I can think about when someone brings up camping is all of the bugs, the mud, the sleeping on the hard, cold ground.  Now, camping in a RV is totally different to me.  There’s a real bed, a real bathroom, a real kitchen.  None of this outside stuff.

Which brings me to my next argument: bugs.  You know the old saying: Can’t live with them.  Can’t live without them.  I changed it around a bit to work with bugs: Can’t live with them…  Can’t live with them.  Plain and simple.  I hate them, everything about them.  Even the dainty little ladybugs everyone seems to adore, I do not find cute whatsoever.  Although I still hold my hatred strong, a couple weeks ago I found a helpless little rolly polly sprawled on its back.  Numerous legs kicking, determination pouring out, the little buggie caught my eye.  I stepped over him, kept walking, continued talking.  Something hit me, though.  I felt a strong urge, a strong feeling that made me crouch down, leaf in hand, to turn that little guy over and back on his feet once again.  I felt great about myself, that I helped a being survive, never mind the fact that the being was about a centimeter long.  No matter how big, how small, any life matters.  (Wow!  That sure was deep!  I feel like Shakespeare…  But a younger and girlier version!)

My next never-done, never-will that I will address is “the sleepover”.  Sounds so elegant doesn’t it?  To sleep in a thin, dainty little bag on the hard ground?  At 2 am?  So I’m cranky the whole next day?  Not happening.  This short thirteen year old needs her beauty sleep if she is ever expected to leave the house again.  Period.  I think the part where you watch movies next to your friends, paint each other’s nails, talk boy-talk sounds super fun.  But I don’t think I could take all the other stuff.  Besides, I (as you know from my The All-Nighter--Not as Much Fun as It Sounds post) have a hard time sleeping in my own bed sometimes, let alone someone’s floor.  The only time I ever even attempted a sleepover was when my sister invited our neighbor over to stay the night.  I joined the neighbor on the floor while my sis took her bed and stayed there for about an hour before I gave up and moved back to my room.  Anyway, if I stay at someone else’s house then I wouldn’t have my middle-of-the-night-blood-sugar-test caddies.  I’d have to, like, do it MYSELF!  Not happening.  Beauty sleep, duh.  Enough said?  I believe so.  Moving on to the salmon.

I can eat fish in tacos, in fact I love fish tacos.  But fish without the tortilla, without the breading, just plain fish, I don’t know if I could take that.  I just don’t know.  I’ve never tried it, and don’t really want to.  My dad keeps saying that he will give us a taste of some real fish, some real smoked salmon.  But, no fish yet.  I will try it, however I do not see myself going out of my way to get some fish.  Maybe for some fish sticks, definitely for a fish taco.  But I don’t think for plain fish.  Nuh-huh.

Well that’s my spiel on things I hate.

That’s my spiel on staying up late.

That’s my spiel on camping outside.

That’s my spiel on eating fish on the side.

That was my new way of ending this post.

See you later, alligators!  Adios mi amigos!

Just so you know, I could change my mind about any of the three tomorrow.  What can I say?  I was born a female!