Going On A Trip

who remembers car games?

my family drove everywhere for vacations while I was growing up, spending hours and hours in the monza, the blue station wagon, the snug little (fuel efficient) yellow rabbit. we would play the license plate game, word games, and that old standby, the I'm Going On A Trip and Taking My . . .

if you don't remember that one, the first person makes the statement then adds something that begins with the letter A. the next person repeats what the first one said, then adds something that begins with the letter B. the pattern continues, and halfway through the alphabet it gets a little more challenging to remember what everyone's items were.

if I were to play the I'm Going On A Trip game these last few years, my B item would always be a--oh big surprise--bicycle.
well, since I am now truly Going On A Trip (and for the first time in a long, long time, I won't be able to take my bicycle), I played the game with myself.

my list includes all sorts of fun, strange, unusual, and hopefully unnecessary items:

aspirin
bandanas
cough drops
day bag
eye pencil (giggle)
fleece hat
go girl (check it out)
headlamp
imodium
journal
kindle (borrowed)
large ziploc bags (to pack stuff in)
mints
neck pouch with slash-proof cord
open mind (so open, it's at risk of falling out)
pepto bismal
quirky earrings that are bike chainrings with hearts in the middle
reading glasses (how embarrassing)
sunglasses
toilet paper
underwear, lots
v-neck tee-shirt from the MS bike ride this year
wet wipes
xylophone (just to see if you're still with me)
yellow jelly beans in a bag with those of every other color, too
zithro (azithromycin, yes, I cheated)

and, unfortunately, about a hundred and five more things that I get to squeeze into my big-old bikeless backpack.

so, it's back to packing for me.
now where did those silly tweezers go? oh, and my mascara . . . and the straightening iron . . .