Bloodbuzz, Ohio taunts my inner fear demon.

I was carried to Ohio in a swarm of beesI never married, but Ohio don't remember me
I still owe money to the money to the money I owe
I never thought about love when I thought about home
The floors are falling out from everybody I know
           ─ The National

Continuing my obsession with The National, I'm going to start this by casually dropping off the latest song that's wormed its way into my ear and refused to budge.



Bit of a strange video, but it's always the lyrics that draw me into pretty much every song I fall in love with. With the holidays and everything going on over the past month, I've found myself thinking about Ohio quite a lot. On the best of days, my feelings about Ohio range from a vague affection to a mocking dislike, on the worst.... well, let's just say the word choices are rarely what anyone could call "nice".

I left Ohio for good in August 2006, and it was one of the happiest days of my life. Sure, I've returned a number of times for visits over the past few years, some extended and some frighteningly brief. But I go with the intention of leaving. I have a habit, still, of calling Ohio home because I'm still in college mode half the time, but it really isn't and (most importantly) I don't want it to be. Regardless, people that I love live there and that binds me to it. I can sometimes almost physically feel the connections tethering me to the land - as if a few strong yanks might be all it takes to pull me back, willingness be damned.

And that is certainly a fear I entertain from time to time. Having to return to the place where I unloaded all of the bitterness, sadness, frustrations and fears of my youth so I could move on and be happy in another place... how could I even begin to deal with that? And it's all purely selfish, but I think in this case selfishness is necessary. Selfishness is what got me out of there in the first place, and that's something I could not and would not ever apologize for. I think, perhaps, what I fear most is all those people who continually spout the adage that everyone always comes back will be right.

Even if it's a highly implausible notion, fears aren't usually logical or rational, and that's certainly one of my deepest - right there next to becoming my mother (and who isn't afraid of THAT?).

Oh god. I completely had a different intention for this post than to whine about how much I despise my home state. And, of course, any of those plans have been totally wiped from my memory. Maybe it's all the snow... C'est la vie! This is likely not getting a facebook repost...

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On the eve of my 23rd year, I blogged. And it was a good blog. Amen!

Sometimes I feel like I live in a significantly more boring version of The Truman Show. I'm sure everyone gets the kind of strange notion that things are being orchestrated by a man behind the curtain. The man behind my curtain apparently has it out for me. Case in point:

Two weeks(ish) ago, I booked a flight (for tomorrow) to Ohio to see my family and watch my younger brother in his first high school musical. Flying was actually a bit cheaper and so much quicker and simpler than taking a bus or train, so it makes the most sense. However, my nerves about the whole ordeal have only increased substantially as the time draws nearer. I am a classic neurotic when it comes to anything beyond my control, especially travel: buses, planes, trains, cars - I imagine the worst possible fiery death at the hands (gears?) of each before and during the time of transport.

It only makes sense, then, that the headlines I've been seeing plastered prominently all over my iGoogle news apps read like my worst nightmares:

Bombs!

Explosions!

Fatal crashes!

Oh, look. More exploding engines!

And then... whatever this is.


I know the statistics are with me, not against me. But I can't help but feel slightly panicked that the one time things go wrong, it'll be when I'm around. Fortunately, this will be my first time flying over the age of 21 and drinks may be able to *ahem* smooth the edges of some of my fears.

Hopefully by this time tomorrow, I will be close to touching down in Columbus, Ohio and ready to start a fun-filled midwestern weekend. (Can I just say HELL YES for not having to fly back? Thankfully, my mom still lives in Buffalo and we'll be driving back on Sunday together.)

I should probably acknowledge that it is currently my birthday (for another hour and a half at least). And what a lovely day it has been :) I was afraid that my first birthday as a Real Adult would be boring and uneventful. It only makes sense that as you get older and the milestones become fewer and far between, birthdays being to blend together and lose their touch. Turning 23 really isn't anything huge as far as lifetime achievements go.

But it was actually very nice. I redeemed my free drink at Starbucks a mere 5 hours after I dropped $8 for breakfast there (I know, I know - I have a problem). My coworkers gave me a fantastic card. My mommy and my grandparents called. And then after work, I went out to the sweetest little dessert and wine bar for dinner, drinks and (obviously) dessert with some of my coworkers and a few other friends. It was magical and very... adult. And I liked it.



I could make an attempt right now to say something philosophical about turning older or having a birthday, but as I barely managed to spell that word properly because of how utterly exhausted I am... this is pretty much gonna be it.

Happy birthday to me, I live in a tree, I look like a reptile and I smell like the sea. Bravo!

*snore*

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