Winter is about to hit us with all its got once again. And amidst the semi-consistent sniffling, occasionally having to do that erratic dance as you struggle not to fall over after slipping on some ice, and oh, of course, the cold, the fun of winter can lose its shine really quickly. But when the going gets tough, there's nothing like a road trip to liven the spirits. Because as I have (and most certainly will continue to) mentioned before, I love road trips. As much as I love leg room, I like pit stops for roadside burgers or coffee, and seeing the countryside a lot more. As a kid I coveted the rare times when I could eat whatever junk food I wanted and was privy to a smorgasbord of fast food delicatessen and Shaggy's "Hotshot" CD or James Brown's Greatest Hits on repeat. As I grew older and the backseat was now occupied by a second passenger, my backseat fortress's size (not to mention the amount of leg room) decreased, but the love for it never faltered. As a result, my dream car is a VW Comby, preferably equipped with a very long and embarrassing horn and lots of space for friends and leg room galore.
However, I am not fond of winter. Last, last winter was like an itch you couldn't scratch. No, it was more like a leak in a boat. Just when you think it is clogged it spreads, spills, and swallows you whole. But not without leaving behind a runny nose, red fingertips, and frozen lips and ears and nose and toes. However, there is something about whizzing through a curtain of falling snow that is simultaneously frightening and exhilarating at the same time. Suddenly, a curtain of semi-opaque white particles appears and as you pass through it, it feels like you are the miniature figures in a giant snowglobe. Except that the snowglobe has fallen off the shelf and the snow is coming from all angles before it settles after being caught by a pair of experienced hands (with excellent reflexes).
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