Gone Promming

In life there are varying levels of ready. For each person, ready means something different. For some, it means I still need to put on my shoes. For others it means I've got one foot out the door and you'd better hurry up if you want to actually BE IN THE CAR before it leaves. Through my own experiences, I have set the standard for my own personal types of ready.

There's running to the store for a gallon of milk ready, when you make sure the hole in your jeans is not in an obscene place and the (I should have washed it this morning) hair is completely hidden by your baseball cap. After all, the bling on the cap should make up for the lack of shine on your hair, right?

There is Winter in the Midwest ready when you can throw two layers and your bulkiest sweater on and blame your extra holiday baked goods bulk on the layers.

There's Summer in the Midwest ready when you spend entirely too much money on the swimsuit that looks the least offensive of your choices and practice how to wear your wrap/cover-up/towel as a cloak of invisibility between the mad dash from the lounge chair to the pool and back.

There is going out for dinner and a movie ready when you actually take the time to make sure your clothes are little peanut butter hand print smudge free and your hair is clean. If your date is lucky, you might spend a moment putting on some makeup first.

There's wedding guest ready when you primp a little more, making sure you floss your teeth, apply lipstick, and blow the dust off your most painful pair of heels because they're the only ones to match your dress, and heaven forbid you wear shoes that allow you to focus on something other than the pain in your feet for an entire evening. That, I believe, is the sole reason for open bar- to drown out the pain of one's footwear.

And last but not least, there's prom and personal wedding day ready. This ready isn't practiced on a daily basis, and is often extremely time consuming. By the time you are done you have primped, preened, shaved, plucked, sucked, plumped, lotioned, and powdered every pore you own and even the few you rent.

I was very excited last week at the thought of spending my first 2 child free days with Bonehead for company since the birth of Critter over 16 months ago. As a result, I found myself at 2pm last Thursday with my head feeling dizzy with anticipation and promming it up for a trip to Lake Something or Other in Wisconsin. I tried to remember the name of the lake, but finally decided that it didn't really matter. What mattered was I was going to GET AWAY! With my HUSBAND! Wooo! Hooo!

The time approached for our departure, and we left in high spirits. Even when we hit rush hour, nothing could diminish my mood. We arrived and realized we were in the middle of freaking nowhere. Our first clue?

Absolutely no cell phone reception. None. Now normally this might have been a blessing, but we were at a camp ground we'd never been to before and meeting friends (Craig & Julie) a solid hour and a half (at least) behind us who happened to be carrying with them the tent we were borrowing. Oh, and also, we had instructions to try and get as close to the group of Craig's friends from work as we could. Someone was already there (who we'd never met before) and had a site and we knew only that we should look them by looking for a White Hundai SUV. Oh, and we had a first name-Pat-which ironically enough could be either male or female. Go figure.

To add to the fact that we had no cell phone to tell our friends where we were or find out where the SUV might actually be, the oh so helpful dude at the camp office told us to "just drive around until you see a spot that looks good and then come back with the sight number". Feeling absolutely clueless, we set off into the quickly approaching darkness to locate strangers whom we did not know and had never met before with a bi-partisan name driving an elusive white SUV.

To shorten a story that involves asking random strangers if their name was Pat, if they knew a Pat, what constitutes a tent site since people seem to be just throwing their tents up any old where, if they might some day know anyone named Pat, if they'd consider naming their dog Pat and letting us camp next door to them, and Bonehead throwing himself into the middle of the road in front of a White SUV and yelling "PAT!!!" to a perfect stranger who could or could not possibly actually be the person we were looking for, we found the spot where we were supposed to be camping. (Wow, if that doesn't constitute a run on sentence, I'm not sure what does)

We pulled into the spot, unloaded the van, and Bonehead went back to the office to pay our fees and try to figure out how to let our friends know where we actually were so we could sleep in a tent that evening. I stayed behind at the campsite and sat- just in case our friends showed up because our minivan was with Bonehead at the office.

It was during that brief period of eternal silence that I learned a few things about myself. For starters, I am 100% addicted to technology. I found myself wishing over and over again for an internet connection. As it was, we didn't even have water at our campsite.

I also discovered a deadly new Wisconsin mosquito migration. It's funny, though- even though I doused myself in mosquito repellent they kept migrating to the Isle of Chas. Seriously, by the time I got home on Saturday afternoon, I counted 50 bites on one ankle alone. I was in pure misery for a few days for sure.

In spite of all that, as I sat there at the picnic table 100% alone for the first time I could remember in recent history, I could hear the wind shift and sway the tops of the trees. As dusk settled a little deeper into darkness, I could hear the frogs croak and the crickets sing their melodies into the summer evening. I could also hear the deafening roar of the millions of mosquitos in, on, and around my ears. While I sat all dolled and make-uped up, (plucked, shaved, perfumed, and lotioned, mind you) offering myself up as a medium rare filet mignon to the Wisconsin mosquito in a campsite with neither cell phone reception, electricity, water, OR a tent (for the time being), I had an epiphany:

SERIOUSLY? I got PROM READY for this?

I'd let you know what I was thinking at 2pm that Thursday afternoon, but apparently I was 100% certifiably out of my mind.