It's been fun destroying our bodies; it's been great just being together.

I just watched that cell phone commercial with the Nina Simone cover and I now I have the really strong desire to go on a bus trip. Like, I don't care where. I like riding on buses. I like the big, rumbly engines and the stale smell of the seats; I like bobbing around like a cork in water while trying to make my way back to the bathroom that's always too narrow, where you smash your elbow on the paper towel dispenser every time you move. I like packing for bus trips -- music, a snack, a book -- and I like curling up on the seat to sleep, complaining about the space limitations, but actually just being happy to be going anywhere.

When I was in the eighth grade, my class took a trip to Washington, D.C. I sat next to my best friend at the time, Laura Albright. Laura and I were like sisters (we even kind of looked alike) and this would be one of the last trips we took together, that I remember, when things were still good between us. Our parents had packed brown paper lunches for us to eat along the way. We swapped Fruit Roll-Ups outside of Philadelphia. When it got late and we were both tired, I let Laura stretch out across both seats and I slept on the floor with a wheel well impinging my spine. I remember the smell of the rough black rubber mats, the swarm of heat chugging up out of the vents behind my shoulder blades. I remember thinking that Laura and I would be friends forever and that, someday, when we were both much older, I would remind her that I gave up my seat so she could sleep comfortably and, gee, weren't we lucky to keep on being such good friends?

Maybe I'll take a train this time.