Canada Day in the U.S.A.

We went to Columbus, Ohio this past weekend to see an old friend of Rob's. It was fun because we flew on Saturday afternoon as opposed to sitting in traffic for hours on Friday after work, trying to get to the border at Buffalo, so we could wait in line at Customs with a bazillion other Canadians trying to get into the States, while a bazillion Americans tried to get into Canada. Flying is much more civilized, even when you have to be bussed from Terminal 1 to a much smaller terminal and get on a Dash 8 (can you say prop plane?) with 15 other people. And although I am a pilot's daughter, I still get nervous flying and I still suffer from motion sickness. Like a 4-year-old, I have to take Gravol or I will barf everywhere. *sigh*

So what is there to do in Columbus, Ohio you ask? Not much except eat and drink with my new American friends. Our hostess invited over her niece and nephew-in-law who, as it turns out, were also born in 1958. So I kept referring to them as "my peeps". As much as I usually hate using current vernacular, this seemed somewhat fitting since we were all a mere two months apart in age. But I learned that the world of a teenager growing up in Columbus, Ohio is much, much different than growing up in southwestern Ontario, Canada. Columbus is ruled by football; Ohio State football to be exact, and the biggest and brightest achievement for a young woman in the late 1970s was to be accepted to the male-dominated Ohio State Marching Band. I think my biggest achievement was not being arrested for drinking under age. Vive la difference, eh!

And then we went shopping. Rob had never been to Target (we call it "Tar-ZZZEAY") and was not sure what to expect. He got into the groove with a pair of $15 jeans and a 5' x 8' Jute carpet for $80. I bought two tops, four pieces of work out wear (ostensibly to provide me with the impetus to work out -- HAHA!), and a Chihuahua fridge magnet (don't ask). Then we hit Kohl’s. I bought a beach cover up and a skirt and a white cowboy hat (don’t ask AGAIN). Rob bought dryer balls for the condo in PV and spent the rest of the afternoon talking about his “blue balls” (insert rolling eyes icon here).

We saved the best for last: Filene’s Basement. I’m afraid to admit that I made a bit of a fool of myself in the shoe department. I started “ooo-ing” and “ah-ing” so loud at the Italian shoes, Rob had to leave me and go to the men’s wear department. After drooling all over the $400 (ON SALE!) European imports, I settled for a pair of Franco Sarto’s for only $60 and a linen suit for $70. Rob got a gorgeous blue silk Bill Blass jacket and a yummy Nautica terry robe for only $20. I almost forgot that we made a quick trip to Macy's on Monday after brunch. It was my first time EVER in a Macy's. I think it is comparable to The Bay in Canada. I bought a gorgeous red silk sweater (spotted on the sales rack by My Beloved) for only $15. The sales clerk seemed fascinated when we told her we were visiting from Canada. :)

When it came time to pack, I knew we were in trouble when I looked at the bags and bags and BAGS of stuff we bought, compared to our two rather smallish suitcases. Rob packed his stuff and after looking at the suitcase, I took it all out to start over. After moving back and forth to Mexico a couple of times, I feel that I am an expert on packing lots of stuff into smallish spaces! I showed him the concept of rolling clothes and managed to fit everything (except the carpet) in our two suitcases.

We carried on our pillows and my ridiculous cowboy hat (which is now residing in the back of the Merc, waiting for our next “topless driving experience”). Rob thoughtfully suggested I buy the hat (and to be fair, he wanted to pay for it) so that when we’re in the convertible this summer, I won’t complain so much about the heat and the sun beating down on my unprotected head. He thinks I look adorable in it so I guess I will wear it just to see his sweet, goofy grin when I do.