I miss camping. Maybe i should become a gypsy. As devastating as it was having to set up my $15 k-mart tent (of terrible quality) in the rain (and on more than one occasion we actually considered sleeping in the front and passenger seats) it was all kinds of excellent not knowing what would happen the next day and boiling hot water over a very disappointingly assembled campfire (my fault) and meeting awesome people you wouldn't normally talk to back home. I miss drinking tea with european backpackers and having conversations with couples while their kids paddled in a creek. Also this one possum that stuck it's head in my tea cup for like 10 minutes and then scuttled off into a tree where it proceeded to stare at us for what i can only assume was a long time. We got bored and went to sleep. Good times! And now i'm back in the same town i've lived in since i was 5. Not so exciting but i guess it's cool to have a place you know you'd always be able to come back to.
Just one more year and i'll be holidaying madly around the UK and Ireland with my good mate Bec and a few of her old England friends. And then i might have to become a gypsy as i have no other ideas if what should happen with my life. Hang on, i'm annoying myself. I'm going to suggest that i shut up and stop talking about the future's uncertainties
