The Husbear and I—as well as two other friends who I’ll not name here lest they don’t want to be outed for it—went camping Memorial weekend. My second time to go camping in a matter of months. I’m feeling all granola-ey! Not.

We were going to a men’s only campground.

A clothing optional men’s only campground.

Yeah….

Thank the lords of Kobol for alcohol.

I might have even spent a lot of time in my tent to help keep my brain in balance.

I wasn’t a fan, and can’t say that I will do it again. I’d rather have been camping in the middle of redneckistan. Which in a way I was. Naked, gay, redneckistan.

I’m not sure why I agreed to go. I guess maybe I didn’t think *that* many people would be naked. All the time. I guess I’m still naive.

I don’t like being naked inside my own home, let alone around other humans. And then to be around people who are naked? I envy people who don’t have any issue being naked. But I have a huge hangup with being naked. I don’t know why, but I do.

One more thing on the list of things I need to work on….