It has taken me a long time to finally accept the fact that I am not an outdoorsy person.
For eighteen years I have tried really, really hard to mold myself into a wonderful outdoorsy, nature loving, woods wandering type of person.
I have failed miserably.
I don't know why but I've always had this picture of me living out in the middle of no-where with no one but the birds and innocent woodland creatures to keep me company. This is highly unrealistic for me, because knowing myself I'd probably either A. starve to death, or B. Accidentally shoot myself with my own gun when I thought there was a monster outside.
See, I have problems with most "outdoorsy" things.
The woods for instance. I love the woods. In theory. There's probably nothing better then taking a walk through the woods on a sunny day and admiring nature, or something like that. But lets face it, you can get lost in the woods. You can get lost in the woods and it can get dark. You can get lost in the woods, it can get dark, you can trip and roll down a hill. You can get lost in the woods, it can get dark, you can trip and roll down a hill and break your leg. You can get lost in the woods, it can get dark, you can trip and roll down a hill and break your leg and die. You can get lost in the woods, it can get dark, you can trip and roll down a hill and break your leg and die and then get eaten.
Seriously though, while your chances of those things happening are slim, why would you really want to take a chance.
Then there's the water. I can't stand not being near a large body of water. You must understand, I hardly ever *enter* the water. This is partly because of a horrifying past-life regression involving drowning, partly because of a crazy Fundamentalist actually attempting to drown me, and partly because there are all manners of biting, stinging, squeezing, tentacled, toothy, clawing creatures that live in the water.
I for one find it therapeutic to think about all of the creatures not devouring me at any given moment. Have you tried it? Next time you're having a bad day or a panic attack do so. You'll be surprised how much better your bad day is to say, GETTING TORN LIMB FROM LIMB BY A LARGE BEAR. Or, something along those lines.
So I sit on the beach/edge of the water and marvel at it's great expanse and appreciate all it's wonder.
From my safety on the sand.
I've tried desperately to get past these things. I even went so far as signing up for wilderness survival camp.
It went something along the lines of this:
Me: Mom? Can I go to wilderness survival camp?
Mother: Sure honey,
Mother: Oh, wait *looks confused* you were serious?
Mother: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA *twenty minutes of almost constant laughter*
....Yeah...so that went well.
I've also tried:
Rock climbing, base jumping, repelling, swimming, tree climbing, camping, and I even went so far as considering dating a boyscout. That's how desperate I was.
Anyway, no matter what I've tried, More often then not, this is what happens when I leave the house:
"....What's that smell?"
"I don't like it..."
....and that's why Brianna is a recluse who doesn't leave the house and writes stupid blog posts all day.