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vacation, had to get away
05/28/2006 = 11:03 AM

I swear, everything in Ohio is so damned connected to everything else in the universe (either historically or by association) that I was genuinely surprised to learn that Kevin Bacon is originally from Philadelphia. It's like he's the only thing separated from Ohio.

Break it down. (Oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh. Stop.)

Stuff I had planned for this trip. Strikethroughs will cross off items I actually got to do.

Take lots of pictures. This did not happen, because despite numerous repetitions of the following conversation:

Him: Where are you going now?
Me: I just wanted to make sure my camera bag is already in the car.
Him: I told you I put it in there.
Me: I'll just feel better if I see it with my own eyes.
Him: I put it in there. Sit down.

he, in fact, failed to put my camera bag in the car, and not one photograph occurred.

Detour to Pittsburgh for Bahama Breeze. He left the directions to the restaurant in my camera bag. Of course.

Wave at Chrissie Hynde at the Akron exit and wave at Drew Carey at the Cleveland exit. Did both of these things and also yelled, "Cleveland ROCKS!" out the window at Cleveland. This drove That Man of Mine crazy, but as he put it, "It's a good crazy."

I also yelled, "Silverware, next right," every time we passed the universal highway sign for food, and "Hey, do you girls work out?" every time we passed a herd of cows. You so want to go on a road trip with me. Don't lie.

Meet Nrem and Tawly. They let me sleep in their house, use their hot water, and play with their light switches. They also made That Man of Mine welcome, which means that they are saints extraordinaire. Nrem and I, that first afternoon, sat on the most comfortable $20 sofa I have ever laid my butt on and chattered nonstop for about five hours. I haven't been that at ease with someone since never.

Also, while Nrem was waiting for us to show up, she "threw together" a batch of chocolate-dipped strawberries. Who does that? When I make dipped strawberries, it's an all-day project that leaves the kitchen looking like it was attacked by a serial killer who ritually slit the throats of an entire warren of chocolate Easter bunnies. Martha Stewart is cordially invited to kiss Nrem's arse.

Meet the Queen of Internet Pancakes and her Fingernail of Doom, which is, like, the quoolest fingernail ever and you wish you had one. Do you read her diary? If you do, I will tell you that the way she writes is exactly the way she is in person. If you don't, you have to start reading her now.

Now.

NOW.

Really. I'll wait here.

(That Man of Mine, by the way, asked me afterward, with what may or may not have been genuine trepidation, "Is she psychotic, or is that thing about wanting to stab everyone with pencils just a joke?" I assured him that it was, indeed, just a joke, but that he should watch his eyeballs, just in case.)

Drink my face off. Preferably from a drink designed for multiple occupancy, featuring leis, a volcano, and a gong. This restaurant, the Tropical Bistro, is very tiki-intensive and does have such a drink, but we didn't order one. I had a Mai-Tai, which included only an umbrella and a slice of pineapple. It was sufficient. My face stayed on.

I found a picture of our booth online. The guitarist wasn't there that night, so we got to sit where he would otherwise have been playing. Those big black things on the walls are turtle shells with plastic leis on.

The Queen of Questionable Internet Milk drank something from a piece of chipped ceramic shaped like a pineapple and told the waiter several times that she was in love with him because he gave her alcohol. I told you she's just like the way she writes.

Eat food off weapons. This restaurant also features skewered food on swords, but I eschewed the skewers (and accompanying flames) to have instead something called the Tahitian Mermaid, which is filet mignon stuffed with crab rangoon filling. Oh, the fat content. Oh, the cholesterol. Oh, the deliciousness. The fact that it didn't involve weaponry didn't stop me from making lame jokeage about, "Mm, this is good. We should try it on baseball bats." Because what ever stops me from making lame jokeage about anything? Nothing, that's what.

By the way, Nrem and I totally carried our towels into the restaurant, 'cos we're cool froods.

Wear my cute sandals and rock my toerings hardcore. It rained. It stormed. Rain didn't so much fall as it started on one side and just went right across. But it did make huge puddles. I wore my stompy boots. I don't think anyone got to see my Seduce Red toenails.

Take lots of pictures. Didn't happen. See above.

Watch stupid movies. The Man with the Screaming Brain. Yay Bruce Campbell. Reminiscent of Inspector "Alduce Me to Intrallow Myself" Tiger from Monty Python.

We also rented X-Men 2 on Friday night, which doesn't really count as a stupid movie because it's not a B-movie, but honestly, as much as I loved it, it was kind of stupid.

Drink my face off. Burning River Pale Ale, born and raised in Cleveland. You wouldn't think a beer named in honor of the polluted Cuyahoga would taste good, but it did. My face stayed on.

Go see X-Men 3 for nothing. We saw it, but the theater wouldn't take Blingo tickets. The film was just what I wanted: hearty, fun, popcorn fare with deliberately comic-book dialogue. Again, not a B-movie, but stupid no matter how much you love Hugh Jackman all pumped up.

(Hugh Jackman is swoony, but when he plays Wolverine, I keep expecting him to want to go for a ride in the car pant-pant-pant, or to wee on the carpet.)

Also, we got to see the trailer for the new Fast and the Furious movie (Tokyo Drift) which, normally, I would be less than interested in, but now I sort of want to see it because it has Lucas Black, who sounds cute when he talks.

Wear my cute new black shirt with the hippy embroidery. Promptly spilled tomato sauce on it. Go try to take me anywhere.

Go to the Surly Girl Saloon. Oh, hell yes. If you are ever in the Short North section of Columbus, you must go there. They've got lots of amazing microbrews and craft beers on tap, and a homemade organic salsa with so many fresh veggies it takes the guilt out of drunksnackage. Music ranged from Michael McDonald to Hank Williams to the Sex Pistols to Metallica. They have scorpions stenciled on the walls. My favorite new hangout. Pity it isn't closer to home.

Meet Michael Manning. Comedy of errors. We kept missing each other's calls, and eventually it just wound up that he couldn't make it on the night we were there.

Drink my face off. Avery Maharaja on tap. Be still, my heart. My face stayed on, but only barely.

Take lots of pictures. Didn't happen. See above.

Go to Tony Packo's, eat a Hungarian hot dog, and take a picture of the Wall of Buns. None of the above, because the car got wonky and an executive decision was made not to detour, but rather to bring the car right home. It was wonky the whole way, but not dangerously so, as near as I can tell, and I don't think the detour would have made it any worse, or prevented us from getting home. However, when I said "executive decision," I should have clarified that I didn't actually get a vote on the issue.

Tony Packo's has been a lifelong goal of mine, since M*A*S*H, and I am extremely torqued off about not getting there this trip, not that I'd have been able to take a picture of the wall anyway.

Meet Trish. Didn't happen. See above.

Kill That Man of Mine. Okay, that wasn't on my original list of stuff I wanted to do, but I added it later. I didn't do it, but only because getting arrested and going to jail are definitely nowhere on my list of stuff I wanted to do.

Tags: vacation, Columbus Ohio, charity, golf, Hanahoe Children's Clinic

It's that time of year again ...

CLICK!

If you donate to That Man's Paypal, he'll know who you are and tell me to put you on this year's shirt, but if you donate directly to the United Way or mail your donation directly to the clinic, I have no way of knowing what a nice thing you did unless you tell me. So note me or comment me and I'll add your name to the Shirt of Much Tackiness.

Here are my latest heroes:

Art
Boxx (locked - but ask her for a password)
Bud Buckley
Cabin-Boy
captive firefly (locked - but it couldn't hurt to ask)
Cosmic
Creamsicle
Dixie
fuzzy-grey
HEIDI!!
Michael Manning
sallydallydo
trishtastic
warcrygirl

Click here to see the 2005 shirt

drinking: ice water
listening to: Tom Petty, Don't Do Me Like That
and: i got nothing