The boyfriend is so proud of our spring break trip. I think this is for multiple reasons.
First, he did practically all of the planning. In fact, I am not even going to put a percentage on it, because it is closer to 100% than it is to 90%. At this point in time, I'm just along for the ride--literally.
I suggested the idea for a southern road trip last semester, and--a little more than a week ago--I endorsed the trip. A. has pretty much taken the challenge upon himself, and I certainly give him all the credit for it.
Personally, I like it this way. Me--the woman-in-training--came up with the idea, and he--the 'man,'--planned everything. In the end, I will get a trip that I will greatly enjoy, and he gets the satisfaction of knowing that he did 'everything.' (Despite the fact that visiting the homes of famous authors and the home of a family friend were the ideas of women--me and my mother, respectively.)
Seriously, however--A. has planned the trip. He even mapped out our final, projected trail on Google.
(We start in West Lafayette, Indiana, and return to the same point, which is labeled as 'K'.)
Destinations on this 2,000+ mile road trip include: Memphis, Atlanta, Charleston, and Asheville. We will be visiting the homes of William Faulkner, Tennessee Williams, Margaret Mitchell, Flannery O'Connor, and Thomas Wolfe. We will also be rendezvousing with A.'s father and step-mother, who will be visiting Atlanta the same time we are passing through. Furthermore, we plan to spend our last night with some family friends of mine that I have not seen in more than two years. Spaced between the longer stops are drives through Birmingham and Knoxville; a visit to Folly Beach; and my soon-to-be, first experience with camping (for the purpose of this trip, I have not included the times I have slept in a tent in my backyard).
In a tent.
This should be interesting.
Hopefully I will survive, provided that we have enough "nest" (I absolutely refuse to sleep on anything less than three pillows. Seriously--my body physically rejects the lack of cushioning headrests by not allowing me to get comfortable and/or fall asleep.) If we were unable to have a lack of bedding, I suppose I could use the boyfriend as a pillow. However, I am hesitant to allow myself near him--incubator that he is--given what he facetiously suggested we name our spring break trip.
Earlier, during a texting-conversation, I mentioned to A. that "We need an 'epic' name of sorts for our adventure." His reply? The Sextacular Week-long Sexcapade.
I shook my head at the suggestion, smiling at it's illogicality. Now, I know that A.'s ideal trip would be one in which I pack no clothes; only a suitcase filled with banana-flavored condoms. That way, I would be naked AND prepared.
However, given the fact that we are a set that consists of a virgin and a born-again-virgin who are both waiting for marriage, I don't think that his suggestion will suffice.
Not to say that his second idea--alluding to the Hillary Clinton, "I Love Country Music" t-shirt--was any better: The Down South *Hillary Clinton Tree* Tour.
That's also not to say that the innuendo of having rampant sexcapades in the Appalachians is unappealing, however. In fact, I am certain that the allusion of having tent-sex is most appealing to A., Eagle Scout that he is. Part of me believes that he could MacGyver a condom if he wanted to--that is, if we were to ever run out of hypothetical banana-flavored ones.
However, despite the sexually-orientated titles A. jokingly suggested for our road trip, I am sure that we will have an amazing time. I have never been to any of the southern states (with the exception of a vacation to Disney World with my dad when I was twelve), so I am very anxious to get on the road and experience things around me...not in me.