Growing up, I remember coming back to school and listening to my friends talk about their family vacations. Stories of big cities, pictures of happy families riding teacups in amusement parks, memories to last a lifetime (or at least until next summer).

Every single year, my family "vacation" consisted of my dad, my mom, and me stuffed in a Gremlin driving from Small-Town, Okie-land to Small-Town, Missouri.

The Gremlin, lest you don't remember that fine piece of automotive machinery, mixed the artistry of a hatch-backed tin box with the manuverability associated with a tractor. It's interior size made the prototype electric cars of today seem spacious.

Which didn't help my motion sickness.

There was absolutely no way my dad was going to pull over, stop, or do anything that would deter him from "making good time." What the Gremlin lacked in comfort or style, it more than made up for in gas tank size. That thing could go thousands of miles on a single tank of gas.

Conversations went as such:

Me: Dad, I really need to go to the bathroom.

Dad: You just went when we left (four hours ago).

Me: Dad, I'm really feeling sick.

Dad: Jesus, don't puke in the car! We're almost there (we're three hours away).

Dad would then announce that it was time to "eat." This meant pulling out the cooler with sandwiches that had been packed the night before so we could leave at the "golden hour" of five a.m. (Dad: There's less traffic. We'll make better time.)

Yeah, that really helped with the nausea.

I never grew up with any kind of appreciation for organized religion. My parents, after the preacher that married them got kicked out of the church for cheating and another preacher who took all of our money, stole a van, and left the state of Oklahoma, were pretty much soured by the whole thing. However, my most favorite memory during our vacations was this small, white, quaint little church surrounded by oak trees. I didn't appreciate the religious significance of the structure, but rather by seeing that little church I knew it was only a few more blocks to Grandma's house.

When I was in high school, my best friend, Robyn, invited me to go to Branson with her family. Yes, we were going to see professional hillbillies on the stage, but this was a huge step above the rank amateurs of my mother's family.

First of all, her dad wasn't going. I panicked slightly, wondering who in the world was going to drive. I found out that her mom and older sister were going to take turns driving. I didn't know that women were allowed to drive on long trips, so this was new.

After we had been on the road for about an hour, her mom announced that we should eat some breakfast. I had never had breakfast on a car trip, but since I was a guest, I was willing to go along with anything they said. I started looking for the cooler, but couldn't find one. "I knew it," I thought to myself, "they're cannibals and they're going to eat me...that's why they invited me along." Then, she started to make a right hand turn off the highway and I really started to panic.

She took this little road (I learned later they're called "off ramps") and it led to a restaurant. We actually got out of the car and I was amazed. There were whole cities off the highway...places to eat, places to go to the bathroom, places just to get out and stretch your legs. We must have pulled over at least five times during that trip and each one was magical.

It was my first real vacation.

P.S. Okay, my girls sock-girlie and just--jenn and I have decided to team up, ala Charlie's Angels, and find ourselves some men (and possible fight crime). Look, we have a LOT to offer:

just--jenn: She posted her personal ad here and she's looking for a guy that drinks beer and likes college football. How perfect is she?

sock-girlie: She's got the prerequisite sense of humor (must like Strangers With Candy), plus she's such a talented singer that she's appeared on an acclaimed public access show....stage name: Bea.

Me: Jesus, I've lost 40 pounds for you assholes. What more do you want?

So anyway, we need really cool nicknames. Help some girls out.