O-Hi-O

The House on Haunted Hill and other fun fucking facts about the Ohio Valley:

DISCLAIMER: This is a long ass mother of an entry. Please bill your time to me.

Oh the trip to Ohio�what can I say? The driving actually wasn�t that bad. Having made the trip several times before I had key landmarks set as milestones for the trip and after passing each one, I honked my horn. I think I�ve been consulting for too long. Using �milestones� outside of work is a scary-ass thing, and please slap me should I ever use it again.

So, the basis of the trip was to drop off Dr. C�s car at his parent�s house so they could sell it. On the way there, he drove the new car and I drove the old one. Let me say one thing about the old car; there is no other way to travel. I�ve driven that car before, but knowing where we were going, I felt I was driving the more appropriate vehicle. I jammed out in that bad mother with no A/C, a ceiling held up by bed-skirt screws (you know those things you can screw your bed-skirt to your box spring with?), and a boom box filled up with �D� batteries. That 1988 Cavalier was a smooth ride. I was in the lead for most of the way should something have happened to it. The brakes aren�t the greatest asset of the car, the cigarette lighter is. I hadn�t been in a car with a cigarette lighter in it since my old roommate Judy used to drive me around all the time. Corky, her white Jeep Cherokee deserves an entry all to itself because that was a crooked piece of machinery.

I smoked, I drank my diet vanilla coke, and I sang Cher as loud as possible. I only wish I had a mix tape with �Here I Go Again� on it or �Welcome to the Jungle,� but alas, I did not. Cher was as crazy as it was getting so �If I Could Turn Back Time� was as close to a monster jam as I could get. It was a scary-ass thing. I was proud of the car though because it was kicking it hard-core in the mountains going up the hill and didn�t seem to have any problems going 85 on the highway. There was no shaking to be had.

With the wind in my hair and the strawberry air fresheners flapping in the breeze, we pulled into Morgantown, WV for the evening. The last 10 miles or so were a thing of beauty because when we stopped for another soda, they were out of diet everything so I had to get a regular Dr. Pepper, which I hadn�t had in the longest time. Not having real sugar in that quantity in a long time hits you hard. Picture Beavis when he got all cracked out on espresso, only confined to the driver�s seat of a car and listening to Cher. I think the whole car started rocking when I decided it was time to break it down muppet-style to the remix of �We All Sleep Alone.� I almost called Kristin�s voicemail at work and left her a singing telegram�but I didn�t�BIG DEAL.

It was already 10:15 when we got to his old house and the roommate had already gone out with her boyfriend and a couple of other grad students for drinks. The note on the door read something to the akin of: get ready and get your ass down here for drinks, PRANTO.

We get dressed and I soon realize that Hey! Guess what�not only are you really tired from driving and probably about to crash from having all that sugar, but we get to walk downtown. Folks, if you haven�t been to Morgantown I advise two things: 1) If you don�t have to go�don�t and 2) if you do have to go, realize that it�s in the mountainous mountains, which means the roads are like the streets of San Francisco, only not as gay. When walking up the hills do not be surprised if your knees are touching the ground, that�s what kind of incline I�m talking about.

The night was over early thankfully because one of the tag-alongers from the grad student pool was getting on my last nerve. He wanted to buy Dr. C�s car and wouldn�t shut the hell up until Dr. C told him how much he wanted for it. The student was from Canada (I know, I should have felt sorry for him) and was saying he would give him 200 dollars for it. Mother was three sheets to the wind and upon walking out from the club he slurred �all right guys, where are we going now?� It sounded more like �allllllrite guz, herew goin now?� I put my hands on his shoulder and said �away from you.�

We escaped the tragic drag queens and headed back to the haunted house for sleepy time.

Conversation had with one tragic mother who tried to hit on me at the bar:

TM: *putting his hand on my shoulder* You need to turn around so I can get a better look.

Me: Eat me.

TM: *backing away* Aw, come on now, I was just kidding.

Me: Eat me.

On the way back up the mountain to the house, two people decided to have a race up the hill. One was barefoot and the other had a bum ankle. The chick with the barefeet lost, however I decided to call it a draw since �bum ankle� tripped and did a log roll on the way up the hill. I figured that was a distraction, and interrupted the pace that gimpy had created.

I slept like a vodka and tonic soaked log. I woke up the next morning without a trace of feeling bizarre or like the walking dead during the night had violated me. The only thing that startled me was the gargoyle heads that were attached to the wall. I hadn�t noticed them the night before because it was dark and they blended in. It was only a minor squeal and my throat was too clogged up with crap for me to really make any significant noise.

We hightailed it out of Morgantown for the final leg of the journey to Ohio. It�s only an hour from Morgantown to his hometown of Bridgeport, OH. Never heard of it? If you have, I�m scared.

We pulling into the town with one flashing stoplight and hang out with his parents for a little while and get the laundry going. The Ohio Valley mall was the next stop. Not having very much to do at home, we pretty much always occupy our time at the Mall or the grocery store. The mall is something to see. Picture mothers from 1986�only they�re stuck in 1984. Mullets, Fe-mullets, and rat-tails were all to be had and the carousel in the center of the mall is the biggest aside from the county fair, which was also going on during the weekend. We missed the tractor pull, which went down the night before and Saturday night offered an evening of square dancing. His neighbors jokingly asked us if we were going. I told them that I left my clogs at home. They said, �Oh, yeah if you don�t have clogs it just wouldn�t be the same.� True enough.

The evening basically consisted of me drinking too much Bud Light and smoking like a champ. (When in Rome�)

Once again, I slept like the dead and woke up for some coffee eggs and the opportunity to install a CD Burner that Dr. C�s mom had received as a birthday present. This gave me a little something to do while the final things were being loaded into the car and Dr. C was signing the title of his car to give to his folks. Successfully installed, I typed up some instructions on how to use it and we did one trial run with his mom. We packed up after everyone in the town had a chance to come by and see the new car. The color seemed to mesmerize most. It�s just navy blue people, honestly. Not being an American Made car, there were several jibes at how it looked kinda funny. Anyone not driving a big-ass truck with a sticker of Calvin peeing on the rival trucks logo has to answer to the public.

We made killer time on the way home and I was happy to see the beltway and signs of a big city. I�m back now at work, writing this terribly long entry and waiting for quitting time. Here are some more weekend highlights that I may not have covered:

�My grandpa is as handsome as fresh cut grass.� (Written by one of the grandkids at school as an assignment of what their grandparents were like.)

�I haven�t been to the goddamn store in two weeks�Well, I mean, I was there last Saturday.� (Dr. C�s dad, complaining about how much he hates shopping.)

�Don�t pick up any wild women on the way home.� (Dr. C�s aunt, as we were packing up the car about ready to head home. I told her they wouldn�t fit in the back seat.)

�You are the opposite of everything!� (Dr. C�s niece, telling him that he wasn�t cool for reading magazines.)

I think I�ve captured most of it. Hopefully this ate up a good chunk of your workday because I know writing it took up plenty of my time. Comments people, we want comments!

Have a Manic Monday�see you in the gutter.

e.