Monthly Archives: October 2012

Everyone and Everything Ohio

Filed under just pictures, no i really do love ohio
Tagged as ,

It’s an Ohio picture party, and you’re invited! Meaning that you’re obligated to compliment both my family’s and friends’s appearances and my skill in photographing them! You’ll want to look away, but you won’t be able to! THE OHIO DRAWS YOU CLOSER.

My BFF, Tracey, and I went dancing with our friend Kim on Thursday night mere moments after I arrived, as planned, and then Tracey and I spent the next two days doing whatever the hell we wanted to. My dad was busy in the fields shelling corn way ahead of schedule due to this summer’s drought and my sister was stuck working in Kentucky, so I slept in Katie’s Room at Tracey’s house (sheets embroidered with my name forthcoming), and then we woke up both mornings to lazily drink coffee (a first for us), watch “Parks and Recreation” (a second for us), and eat Dairy Queen, Arby’s, or usually both. We visited her husband’s favourite Italian restaurant that may be mine, too, and she showed me her office for the first time since getting her new job. Our friends Erin and Jenn came over for Cards Against Humanity, and I laughed so hard I choked on the ridiculously sweet wine we finished in a matter of moments. Because apparently we are adults now who drink wine and entertain people and DO WHAT WE WANT. Bliss.

Saturday night, I went to my aunt’s surprise party, where I saw half of my family and half of our hometown. I was reminded of just how Ohio State-y everyone is:

Ohio Bonfire and Anniversary Party

But I’m not complaining, because it was SO UNBELIEVABLY WINDY and cold that night, and I had come from tropical NYC in a short-sleeved shirt, so my cousin Bethany lent me a hoodie. Mine wasn’t OSU but “real doctors treat more than one animal”, because she’s a vet.

We ate the giantest hot dogs I’ve ever seen and buckeyes and birthday cake until the sun went down, and then my uncle really got the bonfire going, which resulted in these terribly creepy pictures that make us look like lonely hill people:

Ohio Bonfire and Anniversary Party

Sorry, not that my aunt looks like a hill person. But my cousin Karl certainly does while photobombing Bethany and my sister, Joanie:

Ohio Bonfire and Anniversary Party

And there’s something really strange about seeing pictures of Bethany holding her niece and cackling as the fire swirls around them:

Ohio Bonfire and Anniversary Party

And then, of course, there’s Bethany and Joanie looking so happy as everything burns to the ground behind them:

Ohio Bonfire and Anniversary Party

Bethany looks almost gleeful with her dog, Honey:

Ohio Bonfire and Anniversary Party

And after I point out to them how crazed they appear, they decide to just go for it and start doing a fire dance on top of the bales of straw:

Ohio Bonfire and Anniversary Party

Then there was a moment of quiet reflection after my mom’s cousin told me I’m singlehandedly bringing the antichrist to America by being tolerant of religions other than Christianity:

Ohio Bonfire and Anniversary Party

We played with lights for a while and all loved the dog breath in this shot (and the way little Kaydence is looking up so expectantly):

Ohio Bonfire and Anniversary Party

Was I making fun of Bethany’s mom for being so old or for having her name on her jersey? The world may never know:

Ohio Bonfire and Anniversary Party

On Sunday, I went to church with my family, where people stood up and talked about how liberal professors are warping the minds of our children and how our country will be plunged into darkness and/or civil war if “we” don’t do something this election. I was sitting with my also-liberal great-aunt and -uncle, who were having their 60th anniversary party in the church basement afterward. Aaaaaaaaawkward.

Their original cake topper from 1952:

Ohio Bonfire and Anniversary Party

My sister, posing with one of the 60th anniversary notebooks-that-look-like-matches we were handing out at the punch bowl, where she and I were stationed for three hours:

Ohio Bonfire and Anniversary Party

But it was totally fun, because my cousins Will and Bethany spent most of it standing there with us, so we could all make fun of the people who came to the punch table and asked, “May I have a glass of punch, please?”, insinuating that Joanie should dip them a fresh one when we had five glasses sitting ready right in front of them:

Ohio Bonfire and Anniversary Party

This is the look my sister would give:

Ohio Bonfire and Anniversary Party

She’s not nearly as bitchy as she appears, though, at least when she’s with her husband, Josh, who is brilliant and waited until the last 15 minutes of the party to show up with our dad:

Ohio Bonfire and Anniversary Party

By that time, my great-uncle was all, “Stop, stop, no more pictures”:

Ohio Bonfire and Anniversary Party

And so Tracey and I went to the park in the center of “town” to meet up with our friend-since-birth Katie:

Ohio Bonfire and Anniversary Party

and our loooooooooong-time family friend, Erin, and her kids:

Ohio Bonfire and Anniversary Party

And everyone was a daredevil:

Ohio Bonfire and Anniversary Party

Ohio Bonfire and Anniversary Party

But no legs were broken. Only spirits, as moms pulled kids from the tops of jungle gyms over and over.

I spent Monday riding around the cornfields with my dad, taking the post-apocalyptic pictures you saw yesterday. My great-aunt picked me up that afternoon, and her friend drove us and my great-uncle to the airport because they’re afraid of the highways, and they freaked out about me wanting to be left at the passenger drop-off instead of everyone parking and accompanying me inside, because they looooooooove me.

OHIO!

Ohio Bonfire and Anniversary Party

Rewarding the Crying Child on the Bus

Filed under funner times on the bus
Tagged as

I was raining Friday morning, which always adds an extra level of chaos to public transportation. Suddenly there are wet umbrellas to contend with–if not sitting on the seat you’d like to have, then brushing up against your legs as you stand trying desperately (if you’re a decent person) to keep your own umbrella from dripping onto the person sitting in front of you. I let an older lady into the bus ahead of me and followed her to a two-seater that was miraculously empty. She looked around and asked no one in particular, “No one wants to sit here? Is there something wrong with it?” I chuckled and followed her into the seat, and she said, “There’s usually a reason when it’s completely empty.” Thinking of my experience with empty stinking train cars, I nodded in agreement without hesitation.

She told me she usually doesn’t take the bus because it’s slower but wanted to be picked up closer to home because of the rain, and I indulged her chatter briefly but then pulled out my Kindle before she could become too attached and try to show me pictures of her grandkids all the way to work. (It’s happened.) She took the hint and occupied herself with staring out the window. At 14th Street, a woman with two beastly children boarded and sat the kids together in one seat right behind me, which I’m sure was a joy for the person in the other seat right next to them. One of the kids, a girl, was whimpering about someone or something named Tony; in a low moan right next to my ear, she kept repeating, “I want Tooooooooooooooooooony.” And her mother was doing nothing about it.

Read the rest here!