Viva Las Vegas!

After one day of mandatory recovery, I'm back and ready to blog about my awesome CaliVegas vacation. I took a million pictures and did so many exciting things. So, I'm splitting the trip into two blog posts. First stop?

VEGAS, BABY! VEGAS!

Despite the fact that I don't drink, gamble, or party all that hard, I really love Las Vegas. After a quick layover in Salt Lake City, we arrived in Sin City. We rented a car and made our way to my parents' favorite off-strip casino, Terrible's. Immediately (and to no one's surprise), I made my way to the sports book. After checking the spreads on all of the games, I made the mistake of guaranteeing the Packers would beat the Bears by more than 3-1/2 points. Then, despite my desperate begging and pleading, my dad bet $100 on the Packers.

Every time we go to Vegas, we stay in our timeshare at the Jockey Club. It is the perfect place to stay on the strip. It's tiny, friendly, quiet, centrally located (in between the Bellagio and connected to the Cosmopolitan), and doesn't have a casino. So, at the end of a long night, it is the perfect place to come back and recharge for the next day. After checking in, we walked around Aria and Cosmopolitan for a bit. I had never seen them and, as always, I was blown away by the two new hotels.

The Cosmopolitan was literally built around The Jockey Club. So, Jockey Club guests have their own elevator that takes them to the casino floor of the Cosmopolitan. Since the immense new hotel completely blocks the sun from ever reaching the Jockey Club's pool, guests are allowed to use the Cosmopolitan's four pools. Incredible.


The Boulevard Pool absolutely blew my mind. Amazing view of the strip, huge pool, tons of flat screen TVs, a full-service bar and restaurant, a huge hot tub, a stage for bands to play (Artic Monkeys were there during my trip and Foster the People will be there next month), amazing cabanas (for $100 a day), and tons of free daybeds and lounge chairs. I don't even like laying out, but this was absolute heaven.


The Cosmopolitan also has an incredible bar called Chandelier, which is aptly named because it is a two-story bar completely surrounded by the largest chandelier I've ever seen.



Next, we made our way to Aria. If there is one thing you need to know about this place, it is the amazing smell. It is an incredible mix of vanilla and lavender and they pump it through the vents so you never leave. It works. We walked the shops of the Aria, but only one really caught my eye.


The next day, my feet were absolutely killing me. Note to self: Don't expect to walk around Las Vegas in $1 Old Navy flip-flops. Lesson brutally learned. So, we browsed the Miracle Mile shops at Planet Hollywood for some new kicks. Next, we walked around the breathtaking lobby of the Bellagio. This time, it was decorated in everything fall: scarecrows, giant apples made of roses, enormous pumpkins (800-pound ones!), horses made of plants, cornstalks made of corn, etc. Between the lobby and the fountains outside, I could easily spend the rest of my life in the Bellagio.




Mom and I spent the rest of the afternoon, walking around and watching the fountains. We stopped at the Sugar Factory (under the Paris), where we saw every kind of candy you can imagine. They even have a create-your-own Pixie Stik maker. We also stopped at Serendipity for their famous frozen hot chocolate. Calories don't count of vacation.


Next, we met up with our good family friend Massimo for dinner and a show. We ate at the Wicked Spoon buffet in Aria. This place was unreal. It had a gelato bar and a personalized macaroni and cheese station, where you tell the chef what cheese and what mix-ins you want. I chose cheddar cheese, onions, and ham. Delicious.

After dinner, we made our way to Cirque du Soleil's Viva Elvis! Let me explain: If Vince Vaughn is my #1 celebrity crush, then Elvis is #0. I have loved Elvis since childhood, so I was beyond excited for this show. After being escorted to our seats, we realized one of our chairs was broken, so they moved us to the front row. So, Elvis was practically in my mouth the entire show.


The show was absolutely fantastic. It was perfect for the Elvis fanatic because it told his life story (focusing particularly on his childhood, Army days, marriage to Priscilla, and stint in Vegas) and it was perfect for non-Elvis fans because the performers were incredible. The music, as always, was fantastic and the performers were interactive with the audience. Personally, I think it rivaled the Beatles' Love, but I'm pretty biased. The only downfall was that clips and pictures of Elvis were constantly being shown on the screen and I could not peel my eyes from him. I think I missed half of the performances because his face is so distracting.

The next morning, Mom and I went to the pool to relax. I could have spent the rest of the day there. However, we decided to walk down the strip toward Mandalay Bay. We stopped in New York, New York for lunch at a sports bar that had the most impressive bobblehead collection I have ever seen. In addition to Brian Urlacher, Chad Ochocinco, Chris Cooley, and Sidney Crosby, I was really happy to see a Ben Roethlisberger Miami bobblehead in the collection. Love and honor.


After lunch, we walked down to RM Seafood in Mandalay Bay for some blind ice cream tasting. If your table can correctly identify all 16 ice cream/sorbet flavors, you get the $18 sampler for free. As a self-proclaimed ice cream aficionado, I figured we would fare pretty well. I was completely wrong. The flavors are insane and different every single time. We got 2 of 16 right - although I should mention that they don't count it right if you don't write it exactly. Here were our guesses and what they ended up being:

Flavor #1: They tell you it is vanilla bean, so that you can keep track of where you start on your guess sheet.

Flavor #2: Our guess? Celery sorbet. Actual flavor? Celery sorbet. This was instantly recognizable and kind of disturbing after a taste of vanilla.

Flavor #3: Our guess? Currant ice cream. Actual flavor? Blueberry banana sorbet. I absolutely loathe bananas, but I did not taste a hint of them in this. I definitely got the berry flavor.

Flavor #4: Our guess? Whipped cream ice cream. Actual flavor? Strawberry ice cream. Strawberry is one of my favorite ice cream flavors and I can assure you this tasted nothing like it.

Flavor #5: Our guess? Bananas foster ice cream. Actual flavor? Wild mint tea ice cream. No way. I didn't like this one bit, hence the banana guess.

Flavor #6: Our guess? Lemon sorbet. Actual flavor? Ginger lemonade sorbet. They didn't count our guess right. This tasted exactly like the lemon freezes at baseball games. Delicious.

Flavor #7: Our guess? Cantaloupe ice cream. Actual flavor? Carrot sorbet. I didn't pick up any hint of carrot. I think the color threw us off.

Flavor #8: Our guess? Banana ice cream. Actual flavor? Maple anise ice cream. What is anise? Again, I didn't like this one much.

Flavor #9: Our guess? Rhubarb ice cream. Actual flavor? Blueberry buttermilk ice cream. Despite how good this sounds, this was the third most disgusting flavor in the sampler.

Flavor #10: Our guess? Cappuccino ice cream. Actual flavor? Coffee ice cream. They didn't count our guess right. I hate coffee, so I didn't like this, but it was my mom's favorite.

Flavor #11: Our guess? Honeydew melon sorbet. Actual flavor? Yellow watermelon sorbet. I've never heard of yellow watermelon, but it definitely had that refreshing melon taste.

Flavor #12: Our guess? Orange sorbet. Actual flavor? Orange tarragon sorbet. I hate artificial orange flavor, so this made me gag. What the heck is tarragon?

Flavor #13: Our guess? Pesto ice cream. Actual flavor? Thai basil sorbet. Wrong. Just wrong. So shocking and gross.

Flavor #14: Our guess? Coconut ice cream. Actual flavor? Coconut ice cream. Delicious. This was my favorite and I could have eaten more.

Flavor #15: Our guess? Pistachio ice cream. Actual flavor? Avocado ice cream. I love avocado as much as the next person, but this was pretty gross.

Flavor #16: Our guess? Sour cream and onion ice cream. Actual flavor? Onion balsamic ice cream. This instantly triggered my gag reflex. A crime against humanity. I nearly threw up. The most disgusting flavor on the sampler.

Despite some of the horrific flavors, we had a great time tasting the ice cream and laughing at our horrible guesses. I highly recommend this to anyone with a love of ice cream and adventurous taste buds. Keep in mind: Just like everything else is Vegas, it's a lot of fun, but the house always wins.


After the ice cream tasting, we met Dad and drove to Hash House A Go Go in M off the strip. I wasn't remotely hungry, so the sight of this food was almost nauseating. The plates were humongous and one meal was enough to feed three people. I ordered the soy barbeque ribs, but Mom's sage-fried chicken benedict made for the best picture. This is the favorite of Man vs. Food's Adam Richman.


Friday, Mom and I laid out and swam for a few hours before I bid farewell to the coolest pool I've ever seen.


We checked out of the Jockey Club and made our way to Terrible's again. This time, Mom and I played two games of intense Bingo. I was the only person under the age of 40, but I absolutely loved it. There is no worse sound in the world than someone else calling out, "BINGO!"

After Dad got his video poker fix, we went to the Clarion Hotel to see Cashetta, the Extra Large Medium. Translation: A drag queen pretending to tell the future. Tickets must have been super cheap because this was ridiculous. According to Cashetta, the world will not end next year, John Travolta is gay, and Hillary Clinton will play a major role in the upcoming election. In the most accurate prediction of the night, Cashetta said that I was at a stand-still in my life and had no idea what to do about it. She told me that I need to get moving and I should do what I love. So, it looks like sports journalism school for me, eh? Sorry, Dad. I blame it completely on the cross-dresser in Vegas.

After the show, we drove three hours to our pit stop in Hesperia, California, but I'll leave the California fun for tomorrow.

California Love.

Tomorrow, I'm leaving for my trip to Las Vegas/San Diego/Los Angeles! I can't wait because I get to do a lot of awesome stuff while I'm there. I get to...

watch these...

watch this show...

swim here...

walk here...

see him in action...

watch these guys...

laugh at him...

and him...

But of all the awesome things I get to do on my trip, absolutely nothing compares to spending time with him.

Sid vs. Geno

As I mentioned recently, hockey season is rapidly approaching. Yesterday, I spent an ample amount of time watching videos of the Penguins personally delivering tickets to season ticket holders in Pittsburgh. Do I even need to tell you that I was insanely jealous?

However, halfway through Sid's video, I realized something. Sidney Crosby and Evgeni Malkin are my own personal version of the Jacob vs. Edward debate. Of course, they aren't supernatural high schoolers vying for my love and affection. But, really, I cannot decide which one I like more.

So, I decided to ask my beloved readers for their opinion on this impossible question.

Sid or Geno?

Sidney Crosby

Team captain, Olympic gold medalist, Canadian, face of the NHL, speaks a bit of French, pretty vanilla (fangirl code for boring) in interviews

OR

Evgeni Malkin

Alternate captain, Conn Smythe winner, Russian, speaks English pretty well with a strong Russian accent, hilarious in interviews

So, what do you think? The outcome may determine this hockey season's first Man Meat Monday. I need your input, because if I'm Bella (and thank god I'm not - I can't stand her), I'm currently Team Sidgeni Croskin.

No better time than September for a Christmas story.

Since I don't have much to say, I thought I'd tell you a good story.

About five years ago, my family went to a local dinner theater around Christmastime to see a play. During the dinner portion, we started talking about Christmas, our favorite holiday traditions, the best Christmas movies, the annual fake vs. real tree debate, etc.

Somehow, the name Kris Kringle was mentioned in passing. Instantly, I noticed the looks of blatant confusion on both of my younger siblings' faces. The conversation eventually strayed to something else, but I couldn't move on. I started to wonder: Is it possible for a 16- and a 15-year-old to not know who Kris Kringle is?

You see, my role in the Johnson household is to expose the embarrassing details of my family members for the sake of my own amusement. Being the exploitative big sister I am, I had to confront them.

Me: Wait. Hold on, hold on. Do you guys not know who Kris Kringle is?

LP (playing it smart and covering his bases): Well, he sounds familiar.

Jamie: Isn't he a football player? Like the quarterback for Ohio State or something?

I lost my mind. To this day, I'm not entirely sure why my 16-year-old sister thought Kris Kringle was a collegiate-level football player, let alone an athlete of any kind. The only explanation I can come up with involves Craig Krenzel, the starting quarterback for OSU when they won the national championship in 2002.

I don't know how she came up with that guess, but I'm certainly glad she did. In fact, Jamie should probably have a highlight reel of all her classic one-liners. I think I might start working on it now and give it to her for Christmas.


I'll put this in her stocking.

Man Meat Monday #10: Part 2

I have a new idea for Man Meat Monday.

If I ever come into close contact with a previous Man Meat Monday honoree, I will do a Part 2 post about said honoree that describes the intimate, sexy details of our interaction.

…and by intimate, sexy details, I mean my blushing, stuttering, and drooling and their kind acceptance of my absurd behavior.

Of my 26 specific Man Meat honorees, I have met three of them: G. Love (at the Chicago DMB Caravan), Brian Urlacher (at an autograph convention in Chicago), and Friday night, I had the privilege of meeting the gorgeous captain of the Blue Jackets and the ultimate commander of my recent fantasies, Rick Nash.

Friday, the Columbus Blue Jackets held their first annual CBJ FanFest. Initially, I was on the fence about going. I’m definitely a big fan of the Blue Jackets, but Nationwide Arena is an hour and a half away and I had no one to go with me. Then, I learned that Rick Nash would be there. Decision made.

I forced talked my mom into going with me and we set out for Columbus. We decided to get there an hour before the doors opened to ensure a good spot in line to meet Mr. Nash. When we arrived, I was shocked to learn that we were at the back of a very, very long line. True to form, I instantly started to panic. I even denied a volunteer who was giving out CBJ temporary tattoos.

After an hour of whining to my mom waiting in line, the doors finally opened. I knew where Nash would be (Upper Concourse Section 215/216), so we made our way to the escalator…which was running in the opposite direction. So, in my most athletic feat in over a year, I sprinted up the stairs. Lots of them.

When we reached the top, we quickly realized two things: 1. The escalator was now running in the proper direction and 2. The line in front of Rick’s autograph table was somehow longer than the one at Toys-R-Us on Black Friday. Rick was only signing autographs for one hour before moving to a photo station, so I was beyond convinced that we wouldn’t make it. Commence the whining.

FanFest volunteers were distributing a limited number of tickets to those in line that would guarantee an autograph. I couldn’t even see the volunteers for a long time. As they moved further and further along the line, I saw the stack of tickets become thinner and thinner. I felt like throwing up. With a huge sigh of relief, I received the fourth to last ticket.

As the line slowly inched forward, I noticed that Rick Nash’s doppelganger was standing five people in front of me. Seriously, if I saw this guy at a bar in Columbus, I would have bet my life it was him. Then, I would have stared at him until he left and then, I would have nonchalantly followed him home. Apparently, the FanFest volunteers agreed with me because they made him pose with Rick for a picture.


Finally, it was my turn with Rick.

I handed him my jersey and suavely said the only thing that came to mind: Hi.

He looked at me, smiled that gorgeous smile, and said, “Hi. How are you doing?”

I wanted to say, “Perfect now.” Instead, I replied, “I’m good. How are you?”


To be completely honest, I didn’t even hear his answer. The sound of all the blood rushing to my face totally drowned out any other sound or coherent thought. He handed back my jersey and I thanked him before completely walking past the other Blue Jacket signing autographs at the table (Dane Byers) without so much as a glance. Oops.


After regaining consciousness, I made my way down to the Club Level to check out the Richard Trophy, the trophy awarded annually to the leading goal scorer in the NHL (Nash won it in 2004). It somehow didn’t occur to me to take a picture of it (IDIOT), but I got really excited to see the other names carved alongside Nash’s – Stamkos, Iginla, Ovechkin, and CROSBY.

Nash was scheduled to pose for pictures with the trophy and fans, but again, the line was unreal. In fact, they had completely run out of tickets. After ten minutes of persuasion, I convinced my mom to stand in line with me, anyway. Just in case. It totally paid off.

I got my picture taken with Rick Nash and the Richard Trophy. The Blue Jackets made me promise I wouldn’t post the picture on any websites, so I can’t. I do, however, have the candid shot my mom took. I look absolutely horrible, but I can point out, this is the only time in my life where Rick Nash will be looking at me and I won’t be looking at him.


But seriously, I got to stand next to his flawless, 6’4” body, he put his arm around me, and smiled at me again. I also noticed he was wearing flip-flops. This time, he told me, “Thanks for coming.” I tried my hardest not to respond, “That's what she said” or "Oh, no. I have you to thank for that."

So, as you can see, CBJ FanFest was a huge success. All I need is an autograph from Sid to complete my naughty Canadian dream team. I feel like such a traitor, but I would have done some pretty illegal things to be in that locker room.


Hockey season starts in 24 days. Oh, come on. I know you're excited.

UPDATE: I got permission from the photographer. BRITT NASHTY!


He asked me if we could do the Prom pose. I told him that would be inappropriate in front of everyone else.

10 Years Later...

As you know, today marks the 10th anniversary of the tragic terrorist attacks in New York City, Washington DC, and Flight 93. Everyone always says we will never forget, so here is what I remember.

I remember a friend coming out to my locker in the 8th grade hallway to tell me what happened. I remember watching the shocking footage of the towers fall while my algebra teacher, Mrs. Brock, an incredibly funny woman, cried in the back of the classroom. I remember wondering what the World Trade Center was and realizing it was a big deal when our English teacher told us to free write during 7th period.

I remember feeling nauseous because my dad was on a plane that day, returning home from business in Atlanta. I remember our middle school secretary pulling me out of class to tell me that he was alright and had rented a car to drive home. I remember my overwhelming sense of relief and I remember wondering why she had to pull me out of class to tell me that.

I remember my grandparents being stuck in Amsterdam for a couple weeks because the airlines had shut down. I remember the seemingly impossible stories of loss, heart-wrenching photos of grieving families, and horrific pictures of businessmen, dressed in jackets and ties, desperately jumping from the towers in hopes of escaping their inevitable fate.

I remember pictures of the aftermath, unrecognizable heaps of steel, dust, debris, and death. I remember the casualty count rising higher and higher as the rescue attempts left a little more discouraged each hour. I remember wondering how this could have happened without any warning, to innocent people in the strongest country in the world.

But, do you know what else I remember? I remember fire fighters and police officers valiantly and selflessly risking (and, in many cases, sacrificing) their own lives for the lives of others. I remember people from all over the country dropping everything to assist in the rescue attempts and clean-up. I remember the valor and courage of Rudy Giuliani as he slowly led his city back to some semblance of normalcy. I remember saying the Pledge of Allegiance in the middle of the school day on September 11th, though we’d already said it that morning.

I remember an incredible outpouring of love, donations, compassion, and support from every city in the country. I remember the renewed sense of patriotism in our country as many people enlisted in the armed forces. I remember the often controversial, but vitally necessary bolstering of airport security and, whether right or wrong in retrospect, the remarkable amount of support and faith the country placed behind our government and the president. I remember the heartfelt commentary of David Letterman and Jon Stewart and their resolve to be funny because it was okay to laugh again. I remember the return of Saturday Night Live and how proud they must have felt to be “Live from New York.” I remember hugging my dad when he got home and being thankful he wasn’t involved in this horrendous event that I didn’t quite understand yet.

I remember my very first trip to New York City. I remember instantly falling in love with the city, its infectious excitement, and its nonstop charisma. I remember seeing Ground Zero and wondering how two enormous towers could have ever fit there in the first place. I remember walking into St. Paul’s, the church that became a relief center during the chaotic aftermath of the attack, and seeing all of the signs, banners, and well-wishes that people, schools, and other churches had sent to the victims’ families and rescue workers. I remember the stark juxtaposition between the somber ribbons hanging outside of the church in honor of the fallen victims and the manic honking and frenzied activity on the bustling street nearby. I remember thinking, “They’re okay. Somehow, in some way, this city is okay.”


In all of the years and anniversaries following the terrorist attacks on 9/11, I have never cried…until this year. While explaining to my mom the plans for the 9/11 memorial and the rebuilding of Ground Zero, I started to cry. In a way, I think I’ve never really grasped the effects of that day until this year. At the time, I was far too young to understand something so utterly incomprehensible. Only now can I begin to understand the detrimental consequences of 9/11 (even beyond the casualties, Islamophobia, two wars in the Middle East, etc.) and the effects it had on the victims’ families and friends, the city, the nation, and the world.

However, I cried for another reason, too. I cried because we have made it. Like a phoenix, New York City has literally risen from the ashes, regrouping and renewing, remembering and rebuilding. I cried because I thought about the unbearable pain and the devastating grief that those who knew the victims faced in the wake of the attack. I thought about how difficult it must be to live with such a gaping hole in your life while the rest of the world moves on without you.

Then, I realized that it didn’t. For the first time that I can really remember, the world didn’t move on. Though briefly, our entire country came to a standstill. From every corner of this amazing nation, we grieved with them, we prayed for them, we felt for them. Our lives changed with theirs, albeit in a less personal way, and we still feel their presence. Every single day.

So, I cried because I was proud. I am so unbelievably honored to live in a country whose spirit is unbreakable. In the midst of the most appalling atrocity I could ever imagine, we gathered together and proved what we’re really made of – resilient heart, remarkable perseverance, and immovable faith. We proved to the rest of the world that it will take much more than a few religious zealots to bring us down. The source of our courage and strength can’t be found in a skyscraper or a government building. It’s found within us, an intangible that manifests itself in many different ways.

For some, it surfaces while courageously rushing into a burning building to save others. For others, it’s found during a tour of duty in the Middle East. Some show their strength by donating time or money to a worthy cause. For most, however, pride and strength can be found by simply listening to the national anthem before a sporting event or singing along with “America, the Beautiful” during a fireworks display. The terrorists thought they could make a statement and influence us by breaking our spirit. They were wrong – our spirit would never be broken and they could never win.

Everyone always says we will never forget. They are absolutely right. I’m just beyond proud that of all the horrific things I remember from that day and the difficult days that followed, I find strength in half of them.


In loving tribute to the 2,977 victims of the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, the countless others who still suffer from that loss, the remarkable firefighters, police officers, and rescue workers who risked their lives for the sake of others, the soldiers who have since risked or sacrificed their lives to protect our great nation, and those who have worked tirelessly to prevent future attacks and bring those responsible to justice.

Some Quick Thoughts - since I suck at blogging.

I apologize for my recent lack of creativity. Tonight, I'm making it easy on myself by sharing some random thoughts in bullets.

- Sidney Crosby had a press conference today. Finally. When the announcement was made about the upcoming press conference, I almost threw up. Thanks to the absurd assumptions made by Canadian sports journalists all summer long, I had nearly convinced myself that he was addressing the press to announce his untimely retirement from the game of hockey. Of course, this wasn't the case. In fact, he raised my spirits by telling me (yes, me - no one else) that he hasn't ever really considered retirement, has been feeling a lot better recently, and, although there is no projected timetable, it is likely that he will play this season. Here was my exact reaction:



One of the concussion specialists on the panel also referred to Sid as the "Ferrari of hockey." Obviously, this comment had me drooling all over the kitchen table as I watched the video stream live on my mom's laptop. Hopefully I didn't ruin the keyboard.


So, I can rest peacefully tonight for the first time since early January. Sid looked good. He even wore white after Labor Day, but let's be honest. He's Sidney Crosby - He does what he wants...especially to me.

- My parents and I are making a trip out to California to visit LP at Camp Pendleton! It goes without saying that I'm beyond excited. We are staying a few nights in Las Vegas, driving to pick him up, then staying a few more nights in San Diego and LA. Any suggestions on things I must do while I'm in any of these cities?

The only downfall is that my favorite blog friend, Julie at The Smitten Mintons, will be out of town for the exact dates that I'm there. Devastated is an understatement. At least this gives me yet another excuse to go back to California!

- Speaking of my trip, I will be completing a goal on my bucket list while in LA. My mom and I will be attending a live taping of JEOPARDY!!! There are few things I want more in this life than to be a contestant on Jeopardy, but if I can't do that, I will certainly settle for a spot in the audience. I might even start crying when Johnny Gilbert announces Alex Trebek. Someone is going to have to cover my mouth or I might whisper every single answer to my mom. I will already be fighting the urge to shout, "SUCK IT, TREBEK!" or "I'll take 'Colors that end in -urple' for $200."

- There is a lot of great music out right now. It is blowing my mind. Here are a few current favorites. Check them out and tell me what you think. While you're at it, give me some to try out! I listen to everything.

"Hljomalind" by Sigur Ros - Hauntingly beautiful. I love the sound of Icelandic.

"Marvin Gaye & Chardonnay" by Big Sean ft. Kanye West - Some nice hip-hop to set the mood.

"Lights" by Ellie Goulding (Bassnectar Remix)- If you only listen to one song that I've suggested, listen to this one. It's addictive and amazing. Best work out song I've ever heard. Rave anyone?

That's it for now, but my creative juices are flowing.

Hear ye! Hear ye! Dost thou detect a period piece nerd?

As you can see, there was no Man Meat-ing this week. I'm sorry, folks. Instead, I have some local excitement to share with you!

Every September (and most of October), the Ohio Renaissance Festival is held ten minutes from my hometown in Harveysburg, Ohio. Due to school, I haven't gone in recent years, but today, I made the trip with my parents.

Let me explain. Do you remember the live-action, medieval, role-playing game that McLovin played in the movie Role Models? Multiply that by 100. That is the Ohio Renaissance Festival. It is essentially a real-life version of A Knight's Tale...except the knights aren't nearly as hot as Heath Ledger.

So, today, we decided to escape the woes of the 21st century by roaming around in a re-created 16th century English village. There were multiple shows (jousting, human chess, Robin Hood, etc.),

Hundreds of crafts and art shops,


Lots of medieval foods (turkey leg),


Tons of hired actors (here are the Queen and her guards),


Lots of dangerous games,


Human-powered rides,


...and the greatest people-watching you could ever imagine. Seriously, these people react to live-action Medieval Times how I would react to Sidney Crosby and Vince Vaughn showing up at my house to present me with Bengals' season tickets.

Here is the thing: Almost half of the festival attendees dress up as lords, ladies, wenches, knights, jesters, pirates, serfs, elves, etc. Yes, these people wear absurd costumes, eat like barbarians, and speak in fake British accents all day long. For free. In fact, they pay $20 and the price of the costume to do it.


...and for that, I thank them.