May 23, 2006

The night was crazy-cold, so we huddled together in the same sleeping bag, her cold nose pressed against my shoulder. Despite the darkness and the rain falling on our tent, our camping adventure seemed romantic as hell. “I want to spend all of my nights in a tent wrapped in your warmth,” I said. I kissed her, she kissed me, and then I tried to pull down her pants only to get us both entangled in each other’s underwear and misplaced limbs. We bumped head furiously in the dark and flailed about hopelessly.

Ours was a typical Canadian predicament: the May 2-4 long weekend, freezing tents, sleeping bags, yearnings. In the morning we woke up with headaches and frozen bums, so we promptly ran into the town of Elora to search for pills, warmth, and vagina burgers.

After burps and pats on the back, we spent the next two days exploring new places hand in hand and trying (but failing) to avoid rain. We also learned the following important things:

• Laura is the best camper ever.
• It’s not such a hot idea to go camping on Victoria Day.
• Elora sells mainly absurdly overpriced crap. Except for the vagina burgers.
• Guelph feels abandoned on Sunday mornings. It needs a Walmart.
• Old, crusty underwear are awesome.
• The nuns have fled the nunnery in the rain.