Wicked Road Trip.

( "Ventura Highway," baby)

What do you think of when you hear the words, ROAD TRIP?

There's something awfully fun about those two words, probably because I associate it with the first taste of independence as a teenager along with some great trips in college.  There's an unspoken pact that forms on a road trip.  You're together, closely, for hours with people you may or may not really like (fortunately, I've never not liked anyone I've RT'd with).  That kind of togetherness doesn't usually happen unless you're family, and as family road trips go, you share some pretty awful stuff.

We used to tease my brother (who shall remain nameless) that his lovely gas smelled like hot orange juice, therefore, the nickname, HOJ.  We still affectionately call him HOJ on occasion.  I'm sure he LOVES it.  (Little sisters can say these kinds of things.)

(Ben is attempting to be holy, can you tell?)

Thankfully, I've never suffered from, er, gas, whilst road tripping with friends.  Awkward to share that little present with people who don't share your DNA.  Now that I think about it, gas very well could be the ice-breaker that brings friends closer if viewed as the struggle that tightens the bonds of friendship by very nearly breaking them! 

Ben and I road tripped together this weekend.  Just the two of us.  Five hours to Boise, five hours back, in one day.  My Mother's Day gift was a trip to see WICKED (loved it)!

I thought with this kind of freedom I would be crazy.  I wasn't.  Ben had to prepare two lessons for church the next day.  I kept myself busy jamming on my ipod to my favorite tunes: America, Dan Fogelberg, John Denver, James Taylor. 

After he finished, we got really crazy.  We started listening to The Hobbit on cd.  That was hilarious!  I've come to the conclusion that such a story is better read than listened to.  The narrators were cracking us up.  Thirty minutes was enough for us. 

I told Ben that all I really wanted to do was talk.  So we did.

We drove through rain the entire way.  There was something cozy about traveling with Ben in the rain.  The land was beautiful and the closer we got to Boise, the greener everything became.  Blossoms and crops and rolling hills.

I want to remember some funnies from our day.  1) We cringed at Subway seeing a girl with a pierced cheek--right smack dab in the MIDDLE of her cheek!  OUCH!  Why would you do that to yourself?  2) After Ben telling me to wait to open my car door, I ignored him and did it anyway, only to bump a  rough-looking guy in the bum, who turned and looked at me with a funny grin, a creepy grin, like I was flirting with him.  3) I wore the most grotesque, largish wool knee-socks as my "traveling socks," so I would be comfy on the road.  My legs were so swollen from riding in the car.  Combine swollen legs and largish socks and you've got a pitiful sight!  I'd hold my leg up and say to Ben, "Do you still love me?"  He'd smile and say,"Of course I do, Netty."  True love.

The last hour and a half of the trip I was sprawled in the backseat trying to bring the swelling down from my prego-legs.  It made me feel old.  Things like this just bring you closer together, when you throw your pride out the window and ARE WHAT YOU ARE.  No pretense.  Someone once said that, You don't know how much you love someone until you see them make a fool of themselves.  Too true.

We got home safe and sound.  We'd survived our road trip together.  Snug in bed, we fell asleep with my cold feet resting on his legs to get warm.  That's the good life.