There's something about loading up a car. It's the start of a journey, for one, but it's more than that. If you do it right, there's the satisfaction of having everything you need. Right there. Everything you need fits inside, with a satisfying "clunk" of the doors holding it all in.

It's everything you need for that camping trip, that party, or that gig you can't believe your band landed. It's everything you need to outfit your dorm room, your camp at Burning Man, or your new home across the country.

There's so much potential in an empty car-- what will it hold? What can we squeeze inside, tuck into the crevices?

In a Subaru Outback: A few tents, a couple sleeping bags and pillows, some crazy clothes, some practical clothes, a shade structure, a monkey hut, a cooler, two bikes, a table, several stools, sound equipment, a deep cycle battery, a string or two of LED lights, a crazy fire spinner thing, two tall men, 96 beers, 20 gallons of water, and enough food for a couple weeks. (This is an incomplete list.)

In a Toyota Yaris, hopefully: A hand-crafted chair, an entire wardrobe (including shoes and party clothes), a few boxes of books, a box of correspondence, personal care items, stationery, the art from walls and shelves, craft materials, pots, pans, mixing bowls, assorted kitchen gadgetry, two hoops, a full-sized guitar, a travel-sized guitar, a French horn, some electronic devices, a jewelry box, some linens, backpacking/camping gear, a radish-themed panel of stained glass (from this shop), water, snacks, and a very excited couple.

Luckily, there are a couple plane trips between now and the departure of the Yaris, so some of those items can head across as checked luggage instead.

Whew. That's going to be a full car. Now I just have to get rid of everything I'm not putting in there.