And The Winner of the Improptu Contest Is...

This is a still from the scooter video. Not too shabby for a cheapie $100 video camera, eh?

Wow, there are some pretty awesome names for my sweet ride in the comments of Obsessed.

I should have sponsored a naming contest. Winner gets to take my sweet ride out for a spin. (Best contest ever!)

Purple Passion. Purple People Mover. Purple Haze. Purple Devil.

Purple Passion would be excellent considering that was my drink of choice in the 10th grade. My BFF Lori and I would score it however we could and commence to thinking of ourselves as hard-core boozers. If memory serves me it came in two-liter. Can you still buy that stuff? Yikes.

My Purple Passion days were also only a few short years ahead of when my middle school boyfriend, Travis (real name), rode me around on his Honda Elite. (Me and Honda Elite's go way back.)

Excellent suggestion, Big Bri. You had no idea the history I could attach to that.

Purple People Mover is cute, mostly because apparently there is a train/bus/large cab called that in Detroit. Jen I'm going to need more information on this here Purple People Mover.

And the Blue Angel would be totally flattered if I named my scooter the Purple Devil. And I like to make the Blue Angel happy.

But Amy's Purple Haze suggestion is the name I had started to think of too. Mostly because at 35 mph, the only thing people will see of me is a haze of purple when I fly by on it! Ow!

And it sounds more bad ass than Purple Passion. (Though barely!)

Amy and Big Bri, please report to my dead end street this spring to redeem your prize as winner and runner up - free scooter ride!

Side note, you can still buy Purple Passion, though they fancied up the bottle it appears. What, no street cred with the two-liter?

Turns out, Lori and I were more hard-core than I thought. That grape soda-tasting swill is made with Everclear. LaToya Praeter, who ever that is, has a funny blurb about Purple Passion in her list of Top 10 Classiest Drinks. It's number 9. Cheers to that LaToya.

Hmm... I Don't Feel Any More Sculpted

Tonight I hit the Total Body Sculpting class at my gym. There was definitely some burning, but mostly it was in my quads because we did about 300 squats and lunges, so I'd say overall it wasn't a "total" body sculpt. Maybe they should rename it "Total Quad sculpt."

A colleague of mine couldn't walk for three days after taking the "Tone and Chisel" class at her gym. Sounds scary/awesome. I wish my gym had a class that sounds as bad ass as that.

Which got to me thinking as I was lying on the Bosu Ball cranking out chest presses - classes at gyms should have more fun names, such as:

• Ab Shredder - A class featuring myriad ways to make your insides feel like they're coming out

• High and Tight - After this class, your butt will be like a Marine's haircut

• Sick - Not only will you feel like throwing up from this crazy hard-core work-out, but your body will be totally sick afterwards (in a good way)

I could probably start my own gym with these terrific class ideas. It's what 50 chest presses will get you.

Last night I went to Pilates class.

What's up with all these classes, Gina?
Oh, the Tall Drink of Water is in Florida for four days, so I have nothing else to do but go to the gym.

The instructor was kind of mean. Not the normal, coddling "You're doing great!" kind of instructor. It was refreshing.

As I was wollering around on the floor like a beached whale I started calling her the Pilates Monster. In my head. One girl groaned when we had to do planks and the teacher made us all do "around the world" planks. Which are even more horrible than regular planks. Thanks groaning girl.

That could be another class, Groaning Girl - it's like boxing, only instead of heavy bags you punch the girl who complains and makes everyone do more work. It's a great cardio workout.

Obsessed

Unless I'm blogging/talking/writing about my new scooter, I'm pretty much uninterested.

On that note:

• I've decided I should buy a house, so I can park my sweet ride in the garage. If said house doesn't have a garage, I will have my dad build me a shed.

• Late Februrary/early March will be busy. That's when I'll take my motorcycle license exam (required by Ohio to drive a scooter) and thusly become a certified bad ass.

• Charity fundraising scheme #1: Offer scooter lovers the chance to drive my Elite down the dead end street. Donations gladly accepted. (There is no charity fundraising scheme #2 - yet.)

• Attend summer cook-out at Metro Scooter, where Dave, my new scooter BFF, sold me my first helmet - A lovely red Bell helmet. (Discounted $40 because "No one will buy the red ones.")

• Figure out best way to transport fruits and vegetables from Findlay Market/Hyde Park Farmer's Market. Milk crate with bungee cord? In a sack on the floorboard? A backpack? These are serious questions that must be answered by spring.

• Imagine myself crashing with loads of fruits and vegetables strapped to my back. Painful, but kinda funny.

• Rename blog "Gina Blogs All About It, It Being Her Scooter: The Official Blog of (To-Be Named) Scooter." I think it has a nice ring to it.

• Perhaps you'd like to know more about my scooter. Please call/write/come over. Any time. Really. I'm always up for chatting about it.

Scooter Wow!

Merry Christmas To Me!!!

My sweet "new" ride.

Video coming tomorrow!

Yay! (What's a Giraffe Bed?)

Nick Lachey made his hometown proud last week by winning Clash of The Choirs.

I didn't watch because I didn't want to jinx him. I feel like whenever I want someone to win and I watch, they lose. But if I want them to win and don't watch, they win. So... Thanks to me not watching, Nick won. :)

I'm a fan of Nick if not professionally certainly personally. Seems like a good guy to me. Nice. Laid-back. Friendly. My sort of dude. Plus I wanted Children's to win the $250,000 prize money, which everyone reported would be used for Giraffe beds in the Regional Neonative Intensive Care Unit.

Awesome! I imagined fun, yellow and brown Giraffe decorated beds that kids were like "Whoa!" when they see them. Like they're so huge kids forget about how sick they are.

Then I thought $250,000 sounded like a lot of money for plastic Giraffe beds.

Turns out a Giraffe bed is one of those clear plastic chambers teeny tiny babies are put in when they can't be contaminated by the world.

Or more specifically, it's a fully featured neonatal care station, with an X-ray cassette tray, internal bed tilt, integrated in-bed scale, warming drawer for diapers and blankets, mounting rail for IV poles, pumps and shelves; it's also a controlled humidifier with oxygen systems and temperature controls; and alarm noises and lights are designed so as not to disturb the baby.

It also has sleeves so physicians and nurses and moms and dads can poke their hands in without actually touching the baby.

It's quite a bed. I wish I had one.

Thanks to Nick, Children's can buy about 5 of them with $250,000.

Oopsy

Don't try this at home, kids. Bad news bangs.

Cold Busted

Instead of scraping my windows this morning I just squirted some wiper fluid on the windsheild until I could see out of a little hole.

When I needed to see out of the side windows, I'd just roll the window down.

Obviously I was running late.

On my drive I heard my text alarm go off.

I got to work and the text said, "Girl you better defrost yo' windows!"

Gleefully Insured

In between jobby jobs I had to go a month without health insurance.

I wasn't too concerned because I had 45 days to sign up for Cobra (which I was going to do if I got hurt or something) but I didn't really want to because it costs about a gazillion dollars, or something thereabouts. So my "plan" was just to stay injury/sick free.

And it totally worked. I skated through the whole month... without falling down and breaking my tailbone.

I woke up December 1 and before my eyes were even open I smiled slyly to myself and thought, "You're insured!" I even did a little insurance dance around the bedroom when I got up. I whispered into the Tall Drink of Water's ear, "Hey, wake up. It's a glorious day. My health insurance starts today!"

I get really excited about health insurance, especially good health insurance like I have now.

I pay four dollars extra a month for the supremo coverage, which means they'll bring me back to life for free should I find myself seriously dead.

I'm going to go drive across the Brent Spence just for fun.

Wee!

Overheard This Afternoon

Colleague 1: "Is it like, super-moldy in here? My eyes are burning."

Colleague 2: "I don't know. I noticed something this morning, that's why I had to turn my desk light on."

Colleague 1: "You're all blurry. I can barely see you."

Almost A Team Photo

It was a walking battle royale between me and this much larger, much older dude to the finish line today at the Jingle Bell Run/Walk for Athritis.

Quite honestly I didn't think I'd be able to pull it out, but super-runners Dan and the Tall Drink of Water came back for me after they finished and escorted me to the finish, encouraging me to jog a few steps here and there to get ahead of him.

I beat him fair and square. My head cold however, according to my Nike+, finished dead last. Serves it right.

Thanks to TDW and Dan for making it out on this cold Decmeber day to usher me to the finish line. And thanks to my colleague Missy who also braved the cold this morning to participate.

And Big Fat Hearty thanks to Dave and Amy, who were so generous to donate to my Arthritis Foundation page.

It was so nice of all of you. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.

I chatted with Susie Daugherty (aka Mom) this morning and she wanted me to tell you guys that she's "very proud of us" and she thinks "it's just terrific and so sweet" that we walked/ran and donated.

And she hopes that we dressed warm.

Ban Comic Sans

I was in the research building last week and saw a big tank with a sign on it that said Liquid Nitrogen. The sign was written in Comic Sans.

Poor font choices make liquid nitrogen less potent. FYI, researchers.

Temporarily "That Girl"

The Man of the hour.

Never at parties or weddings do I take my heels off to dance.

I try to always wear quality heels that are comfortable, and even when they're not, I pride myself on my ablity to endure the pain and always keep them on.

The pile of discarded shoes at wedding receptions always makes me laugh, and while I don't blame any girl for shedding uncomfortable but fabulous shoes, I am never one of them.

Except last night I was.

After about two hours of dancing to a terrific DJ at Tabari's Sweet 16 (+14) birthday party - one of the rockin'-est parties I've attended in a long time, and at the CAC's UnMuseum, so fun - I finally succumbed to the intense pressure in the balls of my feet and took my shoes off.

My black patent leather t-strap Mary Jane's understood, and waited patiently until I returned. Except I didn't return. It was so freeing that the Tall Drink of Water had to bring them to me to put back on at the end of the night.

I could tell they had been crying.

I don't have any photos of the cast aside Mary Jane's, but I do have plenty of party and pre-party photos of the night here.

Happy Sweet 16 (+14) Tabari! I was proud to be part of your slide show. And the fade you had back in the day was awesome.

School Lunch

This can't be normal, but I'm obsessed with the cafeteria in my building. I've never worked anywhere with a full cafeteria before and it's this crazy smorgasboard of options for me.

Salad bar. Soups. Hot entrees with sides. Sandwiches and burgers. A breakfast bar with pancakes. There's even a Mexican food grill, LaRosa's and a Gold Star at the main cafeteria.

It's like heaven with blue cafeteria trays.

But the best part is that it's dirt cheap, like $5 or less for everything, with the drink.

My coworkers tell me I'll get sick of soon, and I probably will, but thus far the daily specials are still wowing me. Tomorrow there's a baked potato bar at base (that's Children's lingo for the main hospital) and since I'm meeting some people there, well... I might as well slather a potato in cheese and broccoli!

It's like school lunch back in the day, when you'd check the menu and see that Thursday was pizza day or whatever.

Only now I'm like, "Sweet! Wednesday is spinach and goat cheese lasagna day!"

Now if only they'd add tater tots and corndogs to the menu, it would be heaven.

UPDATE: My first potato bar experience was delayed for a trip to Cactus Pear instead. Mmm. Even better.

Has It Been a Week?

Can't say I've been busy because, well... watching The Hills and Project Runway doesn't really constitute as busy.

Though I did have dinner last night with a former colleague of mine from my Hamilton days, which was a fun trip down Route 4 memory lane.

What happened to this person? Where did that person go? So-and-so still works there?! I never talked to what's-his-face again after I walked out the door.

I always wonder catching up with someone I haven't seen in 7 or 8 years if I'll seem different to them. Gasp! Will they think I have changed?

Of course I still like to think of myself as the witty, rollicking colleague who dances on tables when the timing is right. Maybe I've changed a bit here and there, but largely I still think of myself as pretty much that same wicked cool person.

When I knew Randy I was about 25. I danced on tables. (Ok mostly chairs.) I was headed to grad school. I ran after work almost every day.

Hmm... On second thought, I guess I have changed. A lot.

Happy Thanksgiving

Pre-turkey stretching.

More Thanksgiving Day Race action shots here.

Friday, Saturday, Sunday

Friday


• Celebrated the Tall Drink of Water's 30th birthday at "The River," where the salsa flows spicy and long as the Nile. Did you know that instead of getting a free sundae or dessert (lame!) for your birthday, at The River you get a free shot of Tequila? Not to mention your Polaroid in a sombrero stapled to the front wall. Fiesta!

• Discovered that one of our favorite late-night spots for drinks and breadsticks is closed! R.I.P. HPT&G. (See related poll on the right.)

• Drowned my sorrows in a Shark Tank.


Saturday


• Saw this stilted beast on my way to the Running Spot for its annual sale, where everything is 20 percent off until next Saturday. Do stop in. I left with these fast as lightning Mizunos, and thanks to good friend Big Bri, a sweet Running Spot employees-only t-shirt. Ow!

• Went to see American Gangster. Eh. It was long and not that interesting. My mom and dad also saw it this weekend. My dad's full review was, "It was Ok, kinda like the French Connection, only not as good. Russell Crowe is so fat you could take him to slaughter."

Sunday

• Went to the Echo (Echo) for breakfast. They've raised their prices. Still worth it though. I recommend the Businessman's Breakfast, with two eggs, homefries, bacon and toast.

• Watched the Made premiere with Rocco. "Eh" to that too.

• Massive amounts of laundry to do. Currently choosing to blog and read magazines instead.

I'll Miss Ya, Joe

Michael Keating took this photo.

I got a lump in my throat this morning when I heard Joe died.

I'm sorry to hear it. I'll miss him.

Dust Off Your Antlers

The Jingle Bell Run/Walk is Saturday, December 8, and I'll be participating this year.

My poor sweet mama was recently diagnosed with Rheumatoid arthritis, a very serious and potentially debilitating disease. And the Jingle Bell Run raises money for the arthritis foundation.

From what I hear the event is pretty festive - lots of costumes and santa hats and reindeer antlers. Fun!

I called my mom last week to see if she wanted to come down and walk the event with me, or just drink hot chocolate and watch everyone else walk. I told her I'd rip off my Jingle Bell run t-shirt at the end of the race and fling it at her, rocker-style.

Then she started to cry. Which made me cry. Then she tearfully rejected the idea, but added it was very sweet that I'd walk a race in her honor.

Then she said, "If it's real cold you don't have to do it, do you?"

"Well no. They're not going to come to my house and drag me out or anything," I said.

"Good. So if it's snowing you can change your mind. All they want is your money for charity anyway."

My mom, always practical.

So the Tall Drink of Water and I will don our warmest clothes (assuming it's cold that day) and head out for the 10 a.m. start time from the Northern Kentucky Convention Center.

It's just three miles so TDW should have that knocked out in about 23 minutes. I'll meet him at the finish line in... ohhh, about an hour.

But we'll be there. With bells on. And maybe snowman costumes.

If you're around, please join us. You can even bring your dog and put antlers on him too! Or you can donate on my fundraising page.

I'll take a team photo for Susie and give it to her for Christmas.

The Office Is Now Closed

Our friends at The Office are on strike.

Drunk With Power

I was so excited stepping into the voting booth tonight I got a little light headed.

Election day is my all time favorite day of the year. (For those of you keeping score at home, I've blogged about this before.)

I vote for lots of very important reasons: Issues. Democracy. So I can feel smug. But mostly I vote to cancel out other people's votes who I hate.

Like say I sort of know a person, or heard someone on TV who was loathable, and I know they're going to vote the opposite of how I'd vote. I like to swagger into the voting booth, guns blazin' (read: pen) and fill in those squares with an image of that person in my mind all the while thinking, "Suck it so-and-so! Your vote is goin' down!"

Other times, like when I covered city councils and school boards in Virginia and Hamilton, I'd occasionally throw a vote to one of the crazies that was running, just in the hopes they'd get elected and make the meetings more interesting for me. Those meetings are really long and boring, you know.

Tonight I briefly considered voting for Justin Jeffre, just because I thought of all the fun Kari and I could have bloging about him on omgCincy.

I giggled at the potential headline ideas: Jeffre Wins! First Order of Bid'ness, City Wide Dance Party!

But in the end, ol' Justin didn't get my vote. He isn't hot enough. 99 degrees? Maybe. 98 degrees? No way.

Live Blogging

Tonight six of my BFFs and I will be blogging from the fall party of the season - Ronson and Kari's Mountain Chalet Soirée, in Ronsonville.

Do stop by.

You Down With OMG?

Partner-in-crime Kari and I have launched a new little project we call OmgCincy.

It's got snark. It's got gossip. It's got photos from bars where you should not being hanging out.

Come, join Kari and me - and former Mayor Charlie Luken - as we try to figure out wtf is going on in this town.

OmgCincy - It's hotter than a jail staph infection!

Ooh... One More Thing

While I'm trapped in an auditorium learning how to log-on to my benefits and sign up for dry cleaning drop off service, enjoy this random soccer story I wrote on Sunday.

The Enquirer sports department was so desperate they asked me to cover the NKU men's quarterfinals. I warned the sports editor I'd never covered a soccer game in my life, but like I said, he was desperate.

I think it turned out pretty well though for a girl who doesn't really write sports.

And I'm Spent

Today was my first day at my new job, except that I was actually in orientation, so it wasn't like my new job at all. But still, I was there.

A few highlights:

• On a tour of the hospital we came upon Gapper (the Reds mascot) entertaining a roomful of children. Gapper proceeded to come out into the hallway, make some squeaking noises at us and then hugged and kissed the girl in front of me. I blushed and it didn't even happen to me.

• Children's Hospital started in 1883 as the Protestant Episcopal Free Hospital for Children. It was located at Park and Kemper (now Yale) in Walnut Hills, had 12 beds and 1 staff nurse. It now has an annual operating revenue of just over $1 billion, employs nearly 10,000 people and had 842,822 patient encounters in 2006.

• My badge doubles as a debit card, which I can use to buy lattes from Starbucks on the main campus. Ow!

• My colleague Steve came to find me at orientation to ask if I want the 17-inch or 15-inch MacBook Pro. Shockingly, I chose the 15-inch MacBook. Hey, I need to make sure I have lots of great bag options to carry it around in, and I know the 17-inch models are more bag-limited!

• Children's is ranked 7th in U.S. News and World Report as a hospital and has the fourth best pediatric program at a medical school. Which is OK. I guess. Buuut the research foundation, of which I am now the senior Web editor, is ranked second among all pediatric centers receiving grants from the National Institutes of Health. ($91 million in 2006.)

In horribly, horribly distressing news of the day:

• Dress code says no dangly or hoop earrings and no open-toed shoes. Um, what? (Me, shaking.) Excuse me, but I need to express myself (Chotchkies style) and wearing giant hoop earrings and fantastic sandals (in the summer) is how I do that.

Hmm... Maybe this job isn't right for me after all. Fortuntely it's nearing winter, guess that means I'll just have to buy some more boots to "fit in."

Tomorrow is another long day of orientation. Woo wee!

Best Dream Ever

I've spent the last week destroying rearranging portions of our apartment.

And that has included finding a lot of old notebooks, photos and letters.

But the gem thus far was finding an old dream journal, or what was supposed to become a dream journal but it has only one dream written in it. Then again, the dream is so fantastic that if I had written any other dreams in it, they'd have paled in comparison to this one.

Monday, July 22, 2003
I dreamed that science had created the perfect baked potato by having it naturally taste like salt and butter without all the fat and calories.

I can't believe in four years science hasn't made that happen yet.

Almost Famous

I don't want to brag or anything, but the Best Reporter in Ohio, my former colleague Greg Korte, calls my recent Bob Dylan concert post "eloquent" on his blog and says I "get" Bob.

I'm certain I've never been given a higher compliment. Especially not from the Best Reporter in Ohio.

I also might mention that Korte is practically BFF with my pop culture writer idol Chuck Klosterman, who just so happened to write one of my favorite books of all time, Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs.

Which is almost as cool as being named Best Reporter in Ohio.

Kinda Tragic

Usually my Canon Powerhot SD 600 is within a few feet of me at all times. Except on Saturday.

Somehow I left it at home. What makes this particularly tragic is that my long-time BFF Lori came to visit for a night out and I have no documentation of her being here or the sweet dance moves she brought down on Cincinnati.

But I do have this photo of her from a few weeks ago. Just imagine her not wearing scrubs and getting hit on by some freaky UFC dudes and you've pretty much got the scene down from Saturday night.

The rest of last week was incredibly well-documented, however.

It was my last week at the Enquirer, the highlight being me saying good riddance to the dysfunctional Bagel Stop in the lobby, which also has a sometimes violent Diet Coke machine. Take a look.

And I got to say goodbye to everyone (at least until I saw them all again on Saturday night) at a little happy hour, the highlight of that being I got my very first good-bye cover.

Expect another post on that later.

UPDATE: Ronson has a hilarious post about the sometimes violent Diet Coke machine.

Good News

I don't have TB.

Bad news - I had to get a tetanus shot (yeeoutch) and next week a I'm down for a MMR shot (measles, mumps and rubella) then a booster the next week.

Dang. Working for a hospital is dangerous for your left arm.

And I'll Be With You When the Deal Goes Down

Bob and I spent the evening together at his sold-out show at the Taft tonight.

He always makes me laugh a little, cry a little. I sometimes wonder if Bob even knows there is an audience there to see him. I suspect he'd play and act exactly the same whether the house was full or not.

Ol' Bob cracks me up when he turns his foot, points his boot out and moves his leg from side-to-side. That means he's really gettin' on it. And sometimes, he'll kinda bend and swing, maybe raise his arm a little. Look out. Dylan dances.

At the end he and his band came back on stage and he stood there, like he might say something, but instead he just kind of gestured his hands outward from his sides a few times, like maybe he was pointing to people off-stage but wasn't looking at them. I've seen Bob too many times to think he's going to say anything, but the crowd gets all riled up thinking he might.

My wish was granted tonight when he played When The Deal Goes Down. (The link is to the YouTube video.) I imagine myself waltzing into the sunset whenever I hear it. It always tears me down. Reminds me how mutable, how ephemeral life and relationships are.

Tonight I imagined waltzing into the sunset with Bob. I lead. Because we agreed I'm a better dancer.

I was about seven the first time I saw Bob Dylan. My parents took me with them to Elliot Hall at Purdue University. All I remember is seeing people holding up lighters into the air.

I don't know how many times I've seen him, but it's about 7 or 8. Maybe 9 or 10. Anyway, here's what he played tonight at the Taft Theater in Cincinnati except for whatever song he played third. I wasn't able to recognize enough of the lyrics to figure it out.

1. Leopard Skin Pill Box Hat

2. Don't Think Twice, It's All Right

3. Something about a river? Maybe gold?

4. Love Sick

5. Rollin' and Tumblin'

6. When The Deal Goes Down

7. Blind Willie McTell

8. Stuck Inside of Mobile With the Memphis Blues Again

9. Workingman's Blues #2

10. High Water (For Charley Patton)

11. Spirit on the Water

12. Highway 61 Revisited

13. Ain't Talkin'

14. Summer Days

15. Ballad of a Thin Man

Encore

16. Thunder on the Mountain

17. Blowin' in the Wind

You Are My Magic 8-Ball

Thank you, Gina's Blog readers, for playing the role of Magic 8-Ball in my most recent poll.

Twenty-two (or 73 percent) of you chose 'Yes' to the question "Yes or No." And guess what? You were right. Those of you who picked 'No' were wrong, wrong, wrong. Thankfully.

About a million years ago I applied for a writing/editing job at Cincinnati Children's Hospital. When I was in graduate school Children's was spoken about in a kind of hushed tone. We all knew it as the nationally ranked hospital (it's 7th, according to U.S. News and World Report) that was a great place to work but difficult to get into. So when I sent my resume I didn't think too much of it. I figured I'd get a lovely generic rejection email.

And then HR at Children's called me. And I nearly passed out.

I was screened through a phone interview. Then through an in-peson interview. Then an interview with three research doctors. Then yet another interview. It was seriously the most gruelling interview process I've ever gone through. And this led to a lot of pacing and me asking my colleague Tabari's Magic 8-Ball, "Will I get a job offer from Children's?"

After mixed results (Yes, No, Maybe, Cannot Predict Now) I felt his Magic 8-Ball was not very Magical. But a poll on Gina's Blog? That is magic! And accurate!

So... Though I'm sad to leave my job and friends at CiN, I'm pretty excited to work for Children's. (Finally, a use for my master's in public health!) In a few weeks I'll start my new job as the senior writer/editor for Cincinnati Children's research Web site.

Which is a fancy way of saying it will be my job to twist into order the impact of research discovered by brilliant minds but perhaps not such great writers. Many of my new colleagues will be researchers and doctors hoping to find cures and better treatments for sick kids.

And that's ultimitely is what sealed the deal for me. Yes, the benefits and people and pay were all terrific, but was I ready/willing to leave journalism? The question kept me awake many nights.

Then just before my second interview I was sitting in the cafeteria at Children's, which was buzzing with families, nurses, physicians, support staff. And there were all these parents with their kids in tow and I looked at the kids and wondered, Are they sick? Are they having treaments here? Do they have a little brother or sister who is sick? And it gave me chills to think that these families were bringing their kids to Cincinnati in the hopes that they will get better.

And that was it.

Even though I won't work with kids, the bottom line at Children's isn't to shareholders or profits, it's to making kids feel better. I figure that's something I can get behind even if I can only contribute as a writer for a Web site.

I'm pretty excited. And word on the street is that there is a brand-spankin' new MacBook Pro with my name on it, waiting for me to log in. Ow ow!

Best. Montage. Ever.

Pretty much just watching this montage gets you into law school.

And thanks to you, Gina's Blog readers, my montage is set to the energizing words of Matthew Wilder, who so inspiringly sings, "ain't nobody gonna break-a my stride."

I may not be taking the LSAT anymore, but certainly I would have gotten a 170+ with this baby.

Next up: The question to the poll, "Yes or No." Stay tuned.

Western Bowl, You Light Up My Life

Winners of the Hoinke Classic.

You know what time it is? Time to Glo Bowl!

Somehow the bowling pin shape makes the beer taste even better.

Indiana: A Mobile Blog Tour

The Daugherty "Farm"

The Daugherty Farm. Which raises flowers, tomatoes, a stalk or two of corn and hunting dogs on an acre of land. Some people refer to these spots of land as a "yard" rather than a farm.

Shockingly, there is a winery in Grant Couny, Indiana, located in the little town of Converse. Population: 1,137. And just a few minutes from Marion.

Mom's can be difficult when they don't want their photos mobile blogged.

Aww!

Local honey. Bottled in La Fontaine.

By my count, there were actually 10 kinds of beans.

Weekend In Review

Friday

Tried to drown my Kari and Julie going away sadness in Miller Lite. Still weeped uncontrollably at their happy hour. (OK, maybe I wasn't weeping on the outside, but I was definitely weeping on the inside. Though I think this photo really sells it.)


Saturday

Saw some great bands at the Washington Park Music Festival.



Turned bottle coozies into cup sleeves with my handy pocket knife. (Photo is an early version of my invention.)


Sunday

Cheered as the Reds won their final game of the season.

Truth Or Dare

Madonna's 1991 documentary of her Blonde Amibtion Tour is on VH1 Classic right now.

I don't want to say it's the highlight of my weekend because the steakburger I had at Morton's Friday night was damn good, but this could be the highlight of my weekend.

I've seen it no fewer than a few dozen times. Likely that number is much, much higher. But it's been at least 10 years since the last time and I'd forgotten how great it is. Madonna swinging that outrageous fake ponytail around, talking like a little girl one minute and then bossing everyone around the next. Love it.

She was about the age I am now when it was filmed and damn, I need to step up my game. Hit the gym. Take some dance classes. I could be looking a whole lot better.

My roommate Shane and our friend Adam used to watch Truth Or Dare constantly my senior year of college and we quoted it endlessly. It was impossible to have a conversation with us unless you had seen it several times because it was like we were speaking another language.

Madonna swaps Beauty for dancer 31 years younger.

Neat? Anyone who says my show is neat has to go.

I don't want to compromise my artistic integrity.

Do something else! Do my eyebrows or something!

Marty didn't come. Big deal.

He did it for all the wrong reasons. He doesn't want to heal himself.

And after seeing her uber-athletic stage show again, I realize how many of her moves I've stolen.

Thanks, Madonna. You're my lucky star!

Desktop Inspiration

Ever since I put Dwight as my desktop I've been 87 percent more determined. Thanks Dwight!

The Office desktops come in four delicious flavors.

"She's in a better place now. Actually, she's in the freezer." Dwight Schrute

Sneaky Poll Question

A little experiment here on Gina's Blog.

My new poll question is just "Yes or No?"

Yes or no to what, you ask? When the results are in, I'll tell ya. How's that?

The Fans Are Restless: Where's Our Montage?

To the rest of the songs, Matthew Wilder's Break My Stride said, "Nobody gonna slow me down," as it blew all of the others out of the water.

Forty-four percent of Gina's Blog readers feel that it's the song to make my montage complete.

I think the poll actually lasted longer than my intentions to take the LSAT (or attend law school), but that won't slow me down in creating a heart warming, winner-take-all, dramatic montage. Stay tuned.

Ain't nothin' gonna break my stride.

You Knock Me Offa My Feet Now, Baby

Last night was my good friend Kevin's wedding.

I'd been giddy about it over the last year, anticipating it to be a lively and entertaining affair. And Kevin and Marquetta didn't disappointed.

It was a traditional wedding in many ways, with singing, readings, poems and vows, yet I also found it to be one of the more unique and personal ceremonies I've ever attended. It's tough to make something so traditional your own, yet they somehow pulled off the impossible.

First of all, the wedding processional came down the aisle to Stevie Wonder's Ribbon in the Sky, and I couldn't help but kind of groove to it as I watched the seven bridesmaids make their way down.

Kevin's bride walked to the alter to After All Is Said and Done, which Kevin kind of sang as he waited for the doors to open and reveal Marquetta. It was 30 minutes after the ceremony started before anyone saw Marquetta, as the beginning of the wedding was marked by Kevin's preacher reading a poem Kevin had written, plus there were a few songs, prayers, etc.

The build-up to the bride was so long that by the time the doors swung open it was like Christmas morning everyone had anticipated it for so long.

Before Kevin and Marquetta said their vows a man probably in his 70s sang Center Of My Joy with the backing of a full choir. I've never been to a wedding where there was a full choir. And let me tell you, this 70-ish year-old man's solo brought the house down. And I mean Brought. The House. Down.

Some 300 people exploded in applause and Amens when it was over. It was a few minutes before the preacher even took back the floor everyone was so into it.

But the highlight for me was Kevin's vows to Marquetta. Even thinking back on it this evening chokes me up a bit and I can't even recall anything he actually said. It was just the feeling he said it with that I remember. He was nearly through all of it when suddenly he just stopped and started to cry. Then everyone lost it. Even the groomsmen stood wiping their eyes. Women were grabbing for tissues and fanning their faces trying to hold back tears. There wasn't a dry eye in the church and I, for my part, sat futilely trying to keep tears from streaming down my face.

It was something.

Then we all ate fried chicken, turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, green beans and corn and got down to Michael Jackson's The Way You Make Me Feel. It was a damn good time.

This photo is of Kevin and one of his older brothers, who favors Kevin so much when I first saw him I thought they might be twins. The two of them spontaneously broke out into a choreographed dance and wowed everyone. Here are some more photos.

I also decided during the wedding and reception that Kevin is one of the funniest people I know. I know plenty of funny people, but he makes me laugh the hardest and is the most quotable. I can't write anything he's said because I'm not talented enough to capture his rhythm and timing, but some of the things I've heard Kevin say I still repeat and laugh about.

I know I always say this about my friends, but his new wife is lucky to have him. Very lucky.