Justin keeps saying, "I love the Midwest! The sky is bigger and the people are so nice and it's flat and it smells different and there's clouds!" I totally forgot that, where he comes from, they don't have humidity. Or winter. Or souls.
Ohio passed in a blur of traffic cones, cool night air, and late text messages. The Columbus airport does not, in fact, have any signs indicating where the actual TERMINAL is...the only clue as to its location was a small sign buried amidst traffic barrels that said "Return to Terminal." No sign that said, "Here is the terminal in the first place," so of course I drove right past it, under an overpass that looked like the spaceship from Close Encounters, and turned around while a guy in a pickup truck yelled obscenities at me in fading Doppler effect.
Then we stayed at an EconoLodge. Where an old Indian lady woke us up shouting to tell us to check out. We got in at 1:30am, lady! Take this job and shove it!
So we ate at Skyline Chili. Oops. That was a bad decision. Then we drove to Indiana. That was a good decision. Justin got my air conditioning fixed, which was also a good decision, although unnecessary as far as I am concerned, since I kinda like driving with the windows open. Probably I will think that until we get to Texas, and then I would have been sadly, sadly mistaken. I bow down and genuflect before him, as God of Not Sweating In My Car.
My workshop in Indianapolis was AWESOME. The ladies are all super nice and I hurt their heads with my newly refurbished "ummis while walking" trick. You think it sounds easy? try it. Then they asked me to demonstrate with a chest pop, and I had to admit I couldn't. Damnit. Caught! Never try to teach people things you don't already know how to do yourself, is my golden rule, but I didn't try to teach them that, I only mentioned it in passing.
Then we all went to a local sandwichery, and ate a convivial meal over drinks with whipped cream on them, and then we made the mistake of eating a big pile of onion straws after our healthy potstickers-and-salad-shared-meal. I regret that. Justin got up at one point, saying, "I need to go wash the grease off my hands. And also my soul."
Me too. Oh, me too.