Diamonds are a girl's best friend...

This is love. It has to be. It's the ONLY explanation.

For those that haven't given up on me and my blog, you will be pleased to know about my life altering weekend plans:

Camping in Arkansas and digging for diamonds.

How does one pack for that? I haven't been "camping" since the summer debacle of the 5th grade Katherine at the infamous Mississippi Girl Scout Camp, Camp Wahi. I'm still scarred by being chased and bitten repeatedly by horse flies, stepping on a snake on the way back from showering at the latrine and in my frantic motions, dropping my only bar of soap I had for the week. Not to mention the nightmares that still haunt me when I smell something akin to the dead possum rotting under the wooden boards that supported my tent, or think about the clean-up detail punishment of the counselors cabin (riddled with cigarrette butts, trash, and piles of laundry) I was given along with my tentmates because our neighboring tent of total middle school bitches scared the be-jeesus out of us one night by smacking the canvas of our tent and causing us to scream...I hate that week of my life. My mother has the post cards to prove it.

I'm nervous. I've never slept in a tent that was on the ground.




So far, I've packed a first aid kit. I need to get moving on preparing better. Yeah, I was one Hell of a Girl Scout...and I'm proving that now.


If, you read this before I leave, please text me the answer to this question: How does one get morning coffee at a state park? Do I let the park rangers know what time I need my wake-up call?