After a horrendous decision to eat a slider from White Castle at 4am, I fall into an exhausted sleep in Keith’s room.
In the morning, I felt worse. Part of what made it psychologically overwhelming was the fact that Keith’s room was bathed in red light. Since he had just moved into that space that the previous day, he didn’t have much in way of decorations. There is one window in Keith’s room and he had covered it, naturally, to prevent morning light from streaming in. In lieu of curtains, Keith had draped an OSU flag over the light and the red shading felt like I was seeing the world in anger. Everything was red.
Sparing you the details, I felt like my stomach hated me and anything I tried to offer it, including water, was rejected. (I’m sure the slider was not appreciated last night.)
But, we manage to get dressed and get on the road. We stop at a gas station so I can pick up Gatorade and Nick picks up the most disgusting cheeseburger inside the gas station. He drives while I unwrap it for him. The bread is stuck to the paper wrapping. One tug later, nearly half the bun was stuck to the covering. I almost puked just smelling it. The meat was a nauseating beige.
We get to Bellarmine and take a seat. We sit by the Creasons and I’m excited to be next to them so we can chat. I take one look at Nick’s face as he is now 4 people removed from the aisle and I can sense anxiety in the air. Nick was going to be a server for the mass and we were going to be eucharistic ministers as well. He wanted easy access to the aisle.
“Do you want to move?” As if he would say no.
“Yeah, I just don’t like -” He started explaining.
“No need to explain, I get it.” I get up, apologize to the Creasons and we move to the very end of another pew. The relief is pouring out of Nick and he smiles like a 10 year old who just got his second serving of ice cream as we park ourselves in our new space in Bellarmine Chapel.
The mass goes smoothly and we help out with the Eucharist without any problems, except for the fact i felt like I needed to lie down the entire time. Afterward, he headed off to my friends’ place, Mary Kay and Heather, to drop off wedding photos that I had taken of them in their ceremony we had attended in Florida.
About two months ago, Heather and Mary Kay asked Nick and I to join them in Florida for their big day and I, of course, couldn’t resist being the photographer. Being the procrastinating photographer that I am, I was just giving them the CDs of their day two months later. We begin to drive up to the Kenwood mall area.
As we cruise through 71 North, Nick looks over at me, “Is there something wrong with our car?” Our rental is a black Mazda 3. The sound filling our car sounded like the airy noise of an axel problem, but I knew better.
I am unenthused with my knowledge, “Actually, we are now in Cicada Nation. Those horrific things, Goatee said, are everywhere, but especially prominent in the Kenwood area.”
“No…are they really?”
“YES. I hate them.” I slink in my seat because the thought of a cicada hitting me in the face made me even more nauseous. Our windshield is splattered like a Cicada memorial and I try not to look straight ahead. The obstinate heat of Cincinnati bakes the remnants on the car.
We make it to Heather and Mary Kay’s even though I run from the car to the house as if there is a war going on with bombs and grenades everywhere.
After we drop off the CDs, we head to Colerain’s BW3s where folks were passing time before the reception. As we slow at the exit off of the Ronald Reagan highway onto Colerain Avenue, I shake my head in wonder, “As we pull up to this area, there is not one inch of doubt in my head that I do NOT miss living in Colerain, or my commute to Miami…” Colerain is straight out a West Side textbook and we should have heeded the warnings not to live there three years ago. Oh well, no regrets. We’ll just say that we learned a lot from Colerain about what we don’t want in a future neighborhood.
BW3s is fun and uneventful with beer, oversized TVs, and UFC fights. We see some Xavier faces that we haven’t seen in years. Books has taken off his sports coat to reveal his suspenders. The fun part of the wedding is beginning.
The toasts to Matt and Bella are hilarious and the evening unfolded without problems. Nick and his buds sang, “For the Longest Time,” to Bella. The dancing begins and the reception goes flawlessly.
Of course we head to Dana’s where I sleep in the car parked in the parking lot for the first 20 minutes. I’m so lame.
The next day we head out in separate directions, Nick to his friend Josh’ birthday party and I go to the Ryans’ new pad in Loveland for a lovely afternoon BBQ. Julie and Goatee’s gorgeous new house looks like they are real adults; it’s some serious space. I think about the college days of renting fixer uppers and eating macaroni and cheese. Life has definitely changed since 2001.
After a few hours Nick is there as well and we’re all gathered to meet babies, eat BBQ, and talk. I’m so lame and fall asleep on the couch, fatigued.
We head back to Massillon and do closing paperwork on our house with a nice man named Norm. I have never had anything but love and devotion for my entire full name Ana Lisa Fernandez Factora-Borchers, that is, until you close on a house and you sign your name for 1 hour straight. Things definitely took longer because of my signature. Oh whale, that’s life….
We had a great dinner at my brother’s house because waking up Tuesday morning to head to Akron/Canton airport to fly back to Boston ONE LAST TIME.
This trip was jam packed with all kinds of events, but our adventures in moving were just beginning….