Carry Me Ohio

Do you think people from Ohio realize that their state is pretty much a metaphor for transience, for pass throughs, for nothingness?  For some reason or another I have spent the past ten years or so favoring sad songs about states.  Michigan, Illinois, New Hampshire, Kentucky.  There are nice sad songs about these states.  But Ohio takes the cake.  Ohio has the most sad songs written about it.  And the best, if you ask me.

Ohio also has the best rest stops in the nation.  So that’s something. 

Having essentially exhausted my job search for today, I will soon go to the shower to do some shaving in anticipation of a visit to a water park.  I don’t know that shrieking children and piped in surfer music is going to cure what ails me.  Alas, I think time is the only thing that is going to cure what ails me.  I have it in spades so I best be using it in a manner that gives me adorable freckles.

Yesterday Elisa invited me on a bra shopping excursion.  As she paid for her purchases, it occurred to me that we were in the very store where my mother bought for me my first ever bra.  It was a sexy white cotton number, and it was incredibly itchy.  That same day, my entire family went to see “The Fugitive” starring Harrison Ford.  The air conditioning was broken in the movie theatre and that coupled with the discomfort of my newly imprisoned anatomy was almost more than I could take.  Oh 1993, weren’t you easy?  If only thirteen year old me would have had some anticipation of all that I would have to take in the years to come, I would have asked my mother to buy me prettier underthings.