We said adios to Ohio around 9 this morning and were back on the road, wind rippling in our hair, sun warming our backs and a banquet of interesting scenery to feast our eyes upon.
Minus the romantic wind (we are not driving a convertible), subtract the sun (it was overcast and muggy all day), and replace the scenery with corn-corn-corn-corn-nothing-corn-corn; this would be an accurate description. Basically we managed to drive 400 miles over a nine hour span of time. Meagan, that should have been a six hour drive. Ah, my fateful hypothetical reader, your concern is flattering! However, you should realize that Emily and I are only human beings (I know, I know, hard to believe..) and are susceptible to colorful signs advertising large amusement parks. We were stir crazy from driving at that point and just had to go to Cedar Point.. at 9:10am.
And it was there, ladies and gentlemen, that a certain security guard crushed our hopes and dreams. Inside the park, Emily and I were eagerly waiting near the first rollercoaster we wanted to ride, waiting for the gates to swing open and let us rush toward it (the park entrace was opened, but the rides themselves weren't yet). A loudspeaker voice boomed overhead announcing the official openening of the rides, and simultaneously every other gate swung open letting the masses rush the coasters. A mob of people to our right swarmed to the coaster we had been waiting in line for. Someone in our stagnant mob yelled out "HEY, OPEN *OUR* GATE!" and the security guard who had been standing there this whole time casually mentioned that this gate wouldn't be open for another half an hour. What a jerk. Yes, he was a jerk. A capital jerk at that for knowingly let us get cut off by hundreds of Ed Hardy-clad highschoolers. At this point, about 300 teenyboppers were in line in front of us and it started to rain. Emily sent me a telepathic message saying we should just peace out of there.
Our tickets were $45 ea so we headed to customer service, where the sign posted on the door read "Sorry, no rainchecks or refunds." Luckily, I don't read signs and Emily just doesn't obey them (...more on that later). After quickly explaining a largely nonsensical story to the manager, swearing we had only been there for five minutes and promising we had positively ZERO fun whatsoever, he kindly gave us a refund. Ahh, the power of asking is a miraculous one.
Em and I waited until getting back to the car before high-fiving.
We spent the next leg of the journeying bashing all things the Ohio Turnpike had to "offer". (But then found homemade brownies our hosts in Ohio made us.. Ohio completely redeemed itself).
Thousands of acres of cornfields later, we were in Indiana. Remember how I said Emily disregards signs? Well the folks in Indiana were--to put this euphemistically--over-zealous to meet us. Really, they had to flag us down on the highway and pull us over to chat. Here is an excerpt from that conversation:"Ma'am, do you know exactly how fast you were going?"
"Err, no.. officer, I don't know exactly.."
"You were going 86. The sign says the speed limit is 70. You slowed down after you saw me."
"Sorry sir, I didn't see you."
"Ma'am, you looked right at me."
"No, no, I was looking at the baby cows!"
Ugh. And in the contest between worst states, Indiana pulls ahead. (Surprising upset to all people betting on the favored winner, Ohio.) I had the good idea of waiting until the cop left to snag this:
..Replace corn with cars. Stuck in traffic. Actual rain starts falling...
Time somehow passes.
Appropriately enough, Sufjan Stevens' "Come On and Feel the Illinoize" was playing as the Chicago skyline began to form in the distance. We had tickets to the Cubs game but vetoed going, blaming everything on sleep deprivation, rain, and not wanting to deal with public transportation. Or the public for that matter.. Instead, I got to re-live the college shopping process as we detour-ed to tour a potential grad school-- Northwestern!
Since about a month ago when Kerrie and Diana tried teaching me how to cartwheel, I've decided to attempt a cartwheel on the grounds of every school I visit. When I can successfully complete it, I know I have found my right match.The jury is out on NU. But they did have a patch of perfectly manicured grass that was basically begging people to cartwheel across it. Points for that.
We found our way to Winnetka where Emily's aunt and uncle are graciously hosting us for the evening. After some delicious Thai food, some disappointing basketball, and playing with some awesome gadgets (iPads), we are tired little travelers. Much like going to the beach, driving on the highway is inexplicably exhausting. Tomorrow we set out to tour Chicago and find some deep-dish pizza. (Gorman, are you surprised that my day planning is food-based?)
Bedtime for us. I've got to lure the cat to come sleep on my mattress with me.
Goodnight to readers and hypothetical readers alike.
(PS- Maggie, when trying to upload these pictures, I re-discovered a video of you macarena-ing outside H2N0.. Amazing.)
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