mirror, mirror on the wall

I drive a lot. Driving is one of my most favorite past-times. Mostly for the music. And the option to go really, really fast. I especially love to drive with Ben. It's a sacred time for us, I think. I always feel as though we're being productive because we have a destination -- and negligent because we're doing absolutely nothing. It's during those times, however determined or lazy, that we share the best music, the best conversation, the best laughs, and the best closeness. Sometimes we're quiet - with our own thoughts. We may reflect on personal discoveries, or opinions, or questions, or memories that have drifted into our peaceful minds. Sometimes we share them, sometimes we don't. But the silence is welcomed, loved even. A popular question is,

"what are you thinking about?"

and the response is never, ever what is expected. It's hard to guess someone's thoughts, it turns out. And I like that.

My loyal friend (and Ben's disdained annoyance) on road trips is the familiar passenger mirror - you know, the one that folds down for make-up and last minute hair touch-ups. Well, if only I used it more for those purposes. Instead this is how it goes:

Ben is a very focused, careful, deliberate, (and slow), driver. Sometimes he gets SO lost in thought and focus that I have to take extreme measures. En route, I use the mirror provided to test the ugliest, most horrendous facial expressions I can conjure. Once the unattractive face is perfected and in place, I turn to look at Ben. He sees me from the corner of his eye after a few moments and laughs/groans. Mostly it's this,

"destiny, stoooop..."

or

"close that mirror!"

or

"ewww"

or

"wow, that one's the best...I mean worst"

BOY, do I love traveling with him.

love, d