The Longest Post Ever Written About Someone’s Trip to Ohio

Filed under narcissism, no i really do love ohio, super furry animals

The only thing more embarrassing than buying a black sequined tank top especially to dance to 80s music in is changing into it in front of the lady cleaning the airport bathroom, but I did it, and I’m a better person for it. My best friend Tracey picked me up soon after, and we met our friend-since-forever, Erin, and two of her friends in the back garden of Skully’s, which was crowded with every single hip person in Columbus. Ohhhhh, Columbus, sweet Columbus, where there are exactly eight cool places to hang out.

Erin’s friends should’ve been way more into the evening than we were on account of their being gay, but they quickly abandoned us and left us to take pictures of ourselves in between Madonna and Joy Division:

Our friend Jonathan found us in the crowd and began humping us feverishly, as he’s wont to do, and then Tracey and Erin humped him back, although you’d never know it from the entirely serene look on his face here:

I had a good time dancing while chomping on my gum:

but an even better time trying to drop it down Erin’s shirt (what?):

There was an extra-lot of boob-grabbing and arm-biting and me thinking everything was sooo funny, ’cause yeah, while drinks are $15 here in NYC, they’re $2.50 in Columbus:

But Tracey had to be at THE Ohio State University the next day for some women’s studies orienting (yay smart friends who get free grad school!), so we went home when the place closed down, ate a bunch of junk food, watched a bunch of “Top Model”, and fell asleep in her bed even though her fiancée told her I wasn’t allowed to sleep on the new sheets while he was out of town.

The next night, we met our other-best-friend-since-birth, Katie, and her husband, Nick, for karaoke at Otani, which claims to be the best karaoke in Columbus but might very well be the only karaoke in Columbus, although that doesn’t make it any less awesome. The great thing about it is that they give you a huge stage and shine a bunch of lights on you, so you can’t manage to hide out in the crowd with your microphone like you can in NYC. So we sat in a booth off in the back and shuffled back and forth through the song book, trying to find something they’d have the guts to sing. Because look how innocent and Ohio they are!:

We finally settled for the three of us girls doing “All That She Wants” by Ace of Base and sat making faces at each other and the singers while we waited for our turn:

But it turns out that Katie had just been stalling in choosing a song because she knew she and Nick would have to leave at 11 to pick up their newborn baaaaaby and hoped to escape without having to perform. Foiled!

Tracey saw them off by inappropriately sucking on the decorative cattails-that-looked-like-hot-dogs in the corner behind our table:

and making me pose underneath one of many (yes, many) cats in Japanese costume:

When it was our turn, we had the crowd cheering and clapping like the Swedish pop stars we are, and then we quickly made our exit before anyone could ask for autographs. We wanted to go home and lie about but decided we were young and it was Friday night and we were obligated to be out, so we drove back to Skully’s for what was supposed to be an indie mustache dance party but was actually . . . twenty people standing at the bar next to the empty dance floor while some hip-hop remix played. We promptly turned around and left and walked down the street to our favorite (and Columbus’s only?) gay dance club, Axis.

We couldn’t hear any music playing, so I asked the guy at the door what was going on. He said, “It’s Steam night! If you want to see a bunch of half-naked guys showering, you’ve come to the right place!” Tracey and I were pretty offended that we look like the type of girls who care about naked men in bathtubs, but I asked, “Is there dancing?” He said, “Oh, there’s dancing,” so we paid our $5 and went inside.

A drag queen on the stage called out some skinny teenage girl and asked her why she loves gay men (“Because they don’t want to fuck you!”), and then she introduced Rocco, a ballet-dancer-turned-stripper whose alcoholic shenanigans backstage had left him unable to perform some of his leg lifts. Tracey and I were like, “THIS is the dancing?”, and I felt myself getting ready to bolt, but then the lights went off, the disco balls started turning, and the floor was ours for dancing.

Rocco climbed into one of the two makeshift showers set up in the center and immediately twisted the curtains up onto the bar they were hanging from so we could see him from any angle. He got himself nice and soaked and then whipped his long hair around so the water rained down on us. Over and over again. Tracey and I kept saying, “Oh, Rocco!” in our “boys will be boys” voices as we danced all over the place, getting our socks and pants completely drenched with mansweat and shower leakage. It was quite a shift from Ladies 80s, where the point is to act crazy and have fun, to shirtless men grinding on each other on top of tables.

The next day was my cousin Ethan’s wedding to my high school friend Katherine, because no one gets married in Ohio if it’s not to someone he’s known his whole life. My old college roommate Michelle sat behind me during the ceremony and helped me make fun of everything, including my cousin Bethany, who chomped on gum the entire time in her bridesmaid’s dress. The reception was awesome, because while Ethan is from my mom’s side of the family, he’s also close to my dad’s side of the family, so all of my cousins from both sides were there, and we all got our own table away from the adults.

Oh, crap. I just realised that all of my cousins are high school age, and I’m in my mid-20s, which means I’m an adult to them. Gross.

Anyway, my being an adult didn’t in any way dissuade them from being bad, as proven by these pictures of my cousin Callen sticking her finger in a bread butthole:

and pretending to be drunk on grape juice:

The next day, my family and I went to church (ha!) and then took my great-aunt and -uncle out to lunch for their 56th wedding anniversary. Which was not nearly as painful as it sounds, mostly because they vote Democrat:


Not that this photo has anything to do with political parties.

and have weird old people things that my sister and I can play with:

Later that afternoon, I made Tracey go with me to visit our friend Katie’s baby. I thought I was pretty secretive about my complete lack of desire to know the thing until it ages seven or eight years, but Katie called me and said, “I know you think she’s a whining, screaming non-human, but I’d really like for you to meet her.” So out of guilt, I drove the five minutes to their new house.

When Katie and Nick got married, they moved into Nick’s house (yeah, he owned a house at 25, and I probably never will) in the outskirts of Columbus and threw tons of parties, and I thought they were pretty great. But then Katie somehow talked him into moving back to our old hometown a half an hour away from the city so she could be near her parents and they could raise Baby Maria in grass and trees and crap. Lame!

It turned out to be pretty cute:

but Tracey and I totally aren’t fit to parent it, because while it was crying, Tracey was busy posing sexily,

and later, she was caught trying to eat it:

We strapped the thing in and took it down the street to Dairy Queen, where we were heartily enjoying our frozen hot chocolate until the baby decided it needed to expel the contents of its anus. While sitting in Katie’s lap:

We all cackled a little bit, but it wasn’t so funny when Katie lifted Little Maria up and found that the poo had PROPELLED ITSELF UP AND OUT OF THE DIAPER:

And then we took a trip to the bathroom, Tracey holding the baby like this the whole way there:

Which seemed cute. Changing the baby–not so much:


Tracey will kill me for posting this, but it’s hilarious, so she can suck it.

We went back to Katie’s house and ended up spending five hours there in total, watching her breastfeed and talking about how we’d incorporate her breastpumps into our sex lives. And taking lonely photographs of Katie and the baby that I thought I could Photoshop into awesomeness later but totally can’t, so you should for me:

Then we went to The Cheesecake Factory with Erin and Tracey’s fiancée, Dan, where we gossiped about grandparents, ate fried macaroni and cheese balls, and learned that Erin refuses to lick things off fingers, even her own, but will happily pose as if she doesn’t:

The next night, I tried to go to dinner with my ex-boyfriend-who-I-moved-to-NYC-for-but-who-then-moved-back-home-after-a-year, Todd, at the pizza place that only he and I like on the OSU campus, but all of the freshman were moving in and the roads were crazy, and I was cursing them in my mind, but only because I was jealous. So instead we met at Pizza Hut, which is a local fine dining Italian restaurant you’ve likely never heard of. There, he informed me that the Meryl Streep movie I was in will win nothing, while the other movie she did this year may win her some Oscars.

Afterward, we went to our favourite for-real-local ice cream parlor, Graeter’s, and ate coconut ice cream with giant chocolate hunks mixed in it while we sat in his car and listened to 90s music like Joydrop that probably only we ever liked. Oh, I mean, us and Tommy Lee, if the video’s any indication.

Todd gets really upset that I never post any pictures of him, so here’s the placeholder where a picture would go if I liked him.

Even later that night, I drove back to Tracey’s apartment to pick her up for what was supposed to be My Last Crazy Night in Ohio™, but my poor best friend was a bit nervous about her first real day of grad school and didn’t want to do much. So I gave her a hard time, because I am a jerk. And then I ate some cookie dough and went to bed.

The next morning, we woke up super-early, and I went to spend my last moments with my dad on the FARM, which is actually where I spent almost every afternoon of my stay, doing things like:


Riding in a combine, shelling corn, thinking about how little I care about my cellphone or my e-mail or my blog when I’m in the country.


Staring longingly across the open plains, mentally tracking all the places I could dump a body if I ever need to kill someone.


Thinking how cool my dad is for being able to fix things.


Not hating nature.

The best part of the entire trip, by far, was when I called my dad on Friday morning and asked if I could hang out with him. He said, “Sure, I’m going to go pull a calf out of the feed lot.” I thought, Yay! We’re moving a happy, bouncing, baby cow to a new home! But it turned out that the baby cow was DEAD:

Like, really, really dead:

Literally the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.

And with that pleasant image, I’ll take my leave.

Comments Closed

37 Comments

  1. lasalebete says:

    I never knew dead cows could be so inconvenient to move, but I guess it’s because they freeze up like that. Gross.

    • Yeah, there was a Bobcat, and a chain around the leg, and a whole bunch of manure, and a tractor. It was an incredible time.

      And I’m like, “If I can handle this, what CAN’T I handle? I’m going to be a farmer!”

  2. welfy says:

    I almost feel like I was there! I like how all your friends like looking inappropriate for pictures. And your love for Ohio reminds me of my love for Pennsylvania.

    • Imagine if I had shy/normal friends. My journal (and life) would be a bust.

      And yeah, your love lets me know that my love isn’t crazy. We just can’t help it that small towns in rural states are awesome.

  3. welfy says:

    P.S. OMG CIRCLEVILLE OHIO! The Pumpkin Place! Soop and I drove through there last time we went up to PA. I bought a shirt from a hippie there.

  4. spaghedeity says:

    Looks like rigor mortis had set in for the calf. I swear to God, this is why I don’t eat meat.

    Also, .gifs! You’re moving up in the world, eh?

    • You know I’m making you eat soooooooooo many rigor mortis cow treats when you’re here, right?

      Also, there were just too many awesome photos to include, and I knew you finicky readers wouldn’t stand for it.

  5. imperfectionist says:

    The bun butt is my favourite.

    I broke my you-abandoned-LiveJournal freeze for this. And the animated .gifs. .gif is the new YouTube.

    • Your bun butt is MY favourite.

      You know I noticed the freeze, right? I’ve spent many a night in front of my animated-GIF-maker, wondering if it’d be enough to bring you back.

  6. Lori says:

    I am COMPLETELY worn out after reading this. Who knew Ohio could be so frenetic?

    • It’s a crazy place, mama. A wild woman like yourself would fit right in.

      P.S. Now that I have super-short hair, every time I think about how much easier my life is, I think of you and yours.

  7. Emily says:

    Why do you and Tracey have THE EXACT SAME eyebrows? Especially in that first picture?

    • Tracey says:

      Katie! Don’t reveal anything about our secret eyebrow gang! I’ll never forgive you if you do!

      • I hope you don’t secretly do a bunch of work on your eyebrows, or my comment below might offend you a bit.

        • Tracey says:

          Did I ever tell you about the time the makeup artist on Ten Years Younger told a woman to stop plucking her eyebrows because thicker eyebrows are a sign of youth?

          I felt so validated in my refusal to pluck.

    • Eww, totally creepy!

      Don’t tell Tracey I told you this, but while most gangs require you to get jumped (or sexed!) in, all you have to do to join ours is let your eyebrows grow to forest-like proportions and never comb them.

      • Emily says:

        First of all, I totally want to be a part of your eyebrow gang, but alas, my eyebrows don’t really look like yours.

        Secondly, it isn’t about the refusal to pluck – I go weeks or months without plucking sometimes – it’s about the fact that your eyebrows have the same shape, and both of you even have that diagonal part in that one place. Admit it: you secretly sculpt your eyebrows to be twins.

        Thirdly, I’ll have you know that all the comments on your blog are wreaking havoc on my Blackberry.

  8. Tracey says:

    Also, I wish there were pictures of our Axis experience. It seems like there’s something missing without them. Do you think we would have gotten thrown out if we had tried to photograph Rocco?

    • I thought so, too! That was one of the major experiences of the week (our friendship?), and now I have to picture it entirely in my head. Maybe you could storyboard the whole evening for us?

      • Tracey says:

        Well, my artist skills are a little lacking. Maybe I can describe Rocco in detail to Dan and have him draw something up.

        I don’t think he would be at all uncomfortable with that. We might all end up looking like Disney characters or comic book heroes. Would you be okay with that?

  9. Smail says:

    Did these events unfold this past weekend, or a previous weekend? I ask because I was in Columbus this past weekend for a wedding, and it seemed that there was a bit more awesomeness in the air.

  10. caropal says:

    I can’t get over how awesome Tracey’s expressions are. The last photo is priceless.

    • Agreed! But of course she called me early this week and reminded me that since she didn’t have a chance to review my photos before I left Ohio, I’d have to be extra-judicious in my choosing which to post. But of course I wasn’t.

  11. suzified says:

    I totally name-dropped you the other night to the boy in your ladies 80s pictures. I asked him if he knew he was famous. He did not. I’m just trying to generate more traffic for your blog.

    So I’m also curious, what is this pizza joint that only you like? I tend to only eat HoundDog’s and Adriattico’s but am looking to expand in the business of pizza-eating.

    • Wait, you know Jonathan? Or you just know him because he’s the creepy guy at Ladies 80s EVERY WEEK, humping all sorts of girls in my absence? I appreciate the plug, either way.

      It’s Adriatico’s, and I’m glad to hear you eat there already. What’s the deal with so many people hating it? Even one of my NYC friends who went to OSU for college talks about how much it sucks every time she sees me. You know what else I miss? GUMBY’S. The night when they have buy one, get one free Pokey Stix–brilliant.

      • suzified says:

        No…I just recognized him from your blog…and I felt like I’d seen him before, so I made my move.

        I had no idea that people harbored such feelings towards Adriatico’s. The dough/cheese/grease combo is delicious. Oh, Pokey Stix. Did you know Gumby’s is a chain? Maybe there is one near you…

  12. diana says:

    wtf…my california senses are numb from that…

  13. Nicole M says:

    Seeing High School folks through your blog = awesomeness!

    Thanks! Keep this up and I so won’t have to go to my 10 year reunion (!!!!). Simply forget the fact that you all were a year behind – or ahead – of me.

  14. Karinya says:

    I have like seven baby-free minutes every day when I can go online and see what the rest of the world is up to, and what do I do? Look at pictures of other babies butts exploding and laugh way too loudly. My life – both real and online – revolved around poop these days.

    Also, yay harvest time. My farming achilles heel is that – unlike your dad – I can’t fix ANYTHING. I get all retarded around machinery.

  15. Kaci says:

    The poop montage is my favorite! I love the strapping it in part….