Introductions and the sort

I. Am not. An outdoorsman. I am not an outdoorsman by ANY stretch of the imagination. In fact, I am so in hate with the outdoors, I refuse, to the utter diappointment to the man I am dating, to even have a picnic outside unless the conditions are absolutely perfect. And by perfect, I mean PERFECT. It can't be too cold, too hot, too windy, too sunny, and God forbid that any bugs so much as TOUCH the blanket I am sitting my slightly large and terribly out of shape derriere upon. You can make a fire to chase away the cold? No thanks, that stuff makes my hair smell like smoke and I've already shampooed it today. Marshmallows, you say? I'll roast one, maybe two, then I'm so out of here. In fact, why can't we just move this picnic to the living room floor? The new season of The Office is on Netflix. We can roast marshmallows over the gas fireplace. That would be much, much better than this, this feast on the floor of the earth, with slimy, disgusting, smelly creatures that crawl, and wiggle, and stuff, and that get dirt on my new Steve Madden peep toes. Yuck.
I don't even like stupid ham sandwiches anyway.

As you can tell from my about me, I avoid any situation where there is any chance I might sweat. This is really bad for me, beause since I got out of high school, I've packed on quite a few pounds. Whether it's because I'm comfortable in my relationship (says my mother), or because I'm depressed that all my friends moved away and I'm alone (says my boyfriend), or because I'm lazy (says I) matters none at all. All that matters is that I am the Flab Queen. Okay, so I'm not morbidly obese. But I'm definitely to the point where I try not to bend over too much because my rolls get in my way. I am a self proclaimed chub. But all this is going to change. I've had an epiphany. A brilliant, brilliant epiphany. I'm going to become an outdoor girl. I'm going to get skinny. Not only am I going to get skinny, I'm going to get HEALTHY. I'm going to eat organic, get a North Face (pink, of course), and go hiking on the Appalachian Trail, something my boyfriend has been after me to do for the past two years. I'm going to do this all in a year, and in 12 months, I plan to be backpacking through the woods. With my face done, of course, but backpacking none the less. With some really cute hiking shoes. I'm really excited.
There's just one thing I'm concerned about.


Where am I going to pee?