tripping, road-style. by which I mean I am taking a road trip...

...just so that's clear.

This fabulous two-week Christmas break will be marked by some serious road-tripping.  When Tyler and I road-trip, we do not mess around.  And by that I mean we don't stop.  Ever.  My road-trip bladder was highly conditioned in my youth to withstand trips across the state of Montana with nary a stop and for this I am eternally grateful.  Not because Tyler is a stop-Nazi who veers into maniacal laughter as I beg for relief, but because it sucks to be the stereotypical girl on a road trip who has to pee every fifteen minutes.  We stop for gas and gas only, barring any unfortunately-timed energy drinks.

The road-trip in question will be a journey from Pullman, Washington to Denver, Colorado to Whitefish, Montana back to Pullman, Washington.  I find it likely to the point of certainty that we will do each of these drives in one day.  Pullman to Denver.  In one day.  Denver to Whitefish.  In one day.  That is how we roll.  And by that, I mostly mean that that is how Tyler rolls.  The man can drive indefinitely.  And does.  He does these 18-hour drives by himself often and seemingly requires little distraction.  Give the man a few cds and maybe some food and he is good to go.  I also require a few cds but generally lose my mind somewhere around the five-hour mark.  This provides some entertainment for my fellow trippers, but I phase in and out of reality once I pass this point of no return.  One friend may recall me laughing hysterically at a sign for a historic tree nursery for about a half hour while continuously talking in a British accent that would horrify anyone who is even remotely fond of Britain.

Anyway, that doesn't really matter much because I won't really be driving much.  I usually drive in about two-hour stretches with Tyler.  I think this is due to three important factors.  1:  Tyler feels safer when he drives unsafe stretches (ex. mountain passes, dark roads, winding roads, narrow roads, icy roads, wet roads, roads with wildlife or other drivers anywhere about, etc.).  2:  I have the attention span of a head-injured goldfish.  And 3:  I am not a good driver.  This is due largely to the attention-span thing.  I get easily distracted by colorful things, shiny things, scenery, motion, or the subject I happen to be talking about at the time.  It is also due to random bouts of superiority (displayed by driving almost exactly the speed limit and sadly shaking my heads at all the reckless drivers around me) followed immediately and at random by bouts of extreme and unwarrented aggression (displayed by yelling loudly at drivers anywhere near me, slower drivers, anyone changing lanes, or inanimate objects like stop signs).  Apparently, schitzophrenic driving is a little nerve-wracking for passengers.

So we will do this drive.  It will be fun.  My job will consist mainly of driving briefly to make myself feel better, changing music, sleeping, retrieving food from the recesses of the car for Tyler, trying to entertain Tyler as he drives, and attempting to keep myself sane.  I will spend long stretches staring at the scenery around us (this will not happen in Wyoming as the entire state looks the same for hours on end), going over in my head the entire plots of movies I have seen and books I have read, singing loudly to any music that is happening in the car (including all instrumental music), and coming up with ideas for books that I will never write.

I may attempt to get books on tape for this venture, but Tyler has begged me not to get any "girly" books.  This is, no doubt, a reference to the fact that I like Jane Austen and he thinks her writing belongs only in convents.  O well.  I will find something manly.

I am currently debating what foods to bring.  It will probably be whatever we have left in the apartment so...walnuts.  Yep, that's pretty much it.

Look out, highways.  Here we come.