As I’d mentioned in an earlier post, my friend @JSaggau and I have created our own versions of the typial bucket list.

We each wrote an individual list of 101 things we want to accomplish in our lives. The kicker is that we plan on completing all 101 things in 10 years.

We were both quite ambitious with our lists, but we figured that if we can’t finish them, the remaining goals will merely be transferred to our next ten year list.

Of course the lists are about living life to the fullest and experiencing new things, but we’ve also turned it into a bit of a competition: we have a running bet on who reaches five goals, 10 goals, 15 goals… first.

And I’m losing.

It’s 3-2 for @JSaggau (I’m including the next post in my tally). You can check out his list at

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#23 Go Camping

Putting “Go Camping” on my list of 101 things may seem a little out of place. I mean, who hasn’t gone camping? And why is such a regular activity worthy enough to warrant taking up 0.99% of my precious list?

For starters, I have never been camping. I have also never viewed camping as something enjoyable, fun or anything I would ever do willingly.

When I was in elementary school, I was a part of Girl Guides mostly against my will. I was a shy little girl to begin with, and I didn’t have any friends in the club and the meetings were held in a smelly public school gym.

I didn’t think my Thursday nights could get any worse… Until I found out that I needed to go camping.

I won’t get into the details, but let’s just say everything that could have gone wrong that camping weekend most certainly did.

The trip took place in the chilly month of November, in Fort Langley, I was away from my parents, I had a leak in my tent and it poured rain all night, there were bugs everywhere, we didn’t do anything fun, I had to clean the dishes on spaghetti night (which was absolutely repulsive) and there were three other girls named Hayley which just added to my confused disorientation.

This past May Long Weekend I came face-to-face with my fear of camping for the first time since my horrific childhood experience. And after a few days of reflection and several nice hot showers, I can now accurately report on the experience.

The weather wasn’t the nicest, and my tent was uncomfortable and far too small. But camping is definitely much more fun with friends, a roaring campfire and lots of food.

The experience wasn’t as treacherous as I thought it would be, but my idea of a vacation is still a nice 5-star all-inclusive hotel on a white sandy beach somewhere tropical, where I don’t have to cook, and there are bathrooms available.

Would I go again?

On several conditions: a bigger tent (a cabin would be nice), actual washrooms and maybe a nice lake nearby with readily accessible boats for tubing and water skiing.

Either way, I’m glad Iwent, and I honestly did have a blast hanging out with my friends and relaxing in the wilderness.

1 down, 100 left to go.

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