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We took a whirlwind weekend trip back to the Home Country to see Lena's pen parents in the south of the state. They are the folks who originally brought her over for a visit back in '92, when she showed up in NYC from the slowly collapsing Soviet Union with $27 in her pocket. They're very nice folks, and we hadn't been to see them in about 5 years (which we didn't realize until we did the math... holy crap, how time flies).

So Friday night we're driving through Ohio, south of Columbus but north of Chillicothe, and just had a "local moment," wherein we stopped for gas, and the station cashier, obviously bored, came out to chat. We had a nice little talk about places and getting to them and such... then Lena and I had a subsequent chuckle as we realized that sort of thing is much more likely to happen the closer you get to hills and mountains than in the flatlands of corn country.

We were just getting back to finding some music we both could tolerate on the mp3 player when a pickup truck appeared about ten or fifteen yards in front of us and to the right. It was not on the road. It was barrel-rolling over, airborne, several times as we saw it closing in.

"Oh my God," Lena said, slowing down fast, but not jarringly. We stopped well behind it as it came to rest on the side of the road, rightside up. "Do you think anyone's alive in there?" she said. We went to find out. We slowly approached the vehicle, which, contrary to Hollywood expectations, had not burst into flame. As we got closer, a guy got out of the cab and ran across the road, past us.

"Dude, are you all right?" I yelled, as he was already past me and speeding up. He mumbled something and continued. Something not right here, my mind said... maybe he's running to get help for someone still in the truck? But I was too buzzed up with adrenaline to take that to its logical conclusion. I could hardly believe that I had seen everything correctly... how could that guy have even been on his feet, let alone running away so quickly?

After about a minute, though, when we had verified that there wasn't anyone else in there, and other cars were stopping and asking us if we were all right, and we were replying that we hadn't been part of it at all, another pickup screeched to a halt right next to the wrecked truck.

"God damn it!" the driver said, getting out. Another guy gets out and asks, "which way did he go?"

Okay, stolen, my mind said. I pointed the direction the crashee had run, and the driver got back in the truck and took off after him. The police arrived barely a minute later, and got everything under control. Apparently the would-be car thief knew the guys he stole the truck from. In fact, he told them he was going to do it. So they knew who he was, where he lived, what he was wearing, and probably just how much beer he'd had that night, too. Clearly there wasn't going to be any huge "unsolved mysteries" case here. Good thing too, 'cause when the police asked me for a description of the guy, I couldn't come up with anything other than "white, light build, scruffy lookin'."

Lena and I verify from the officer on the scene that he didn't need anything further from us, and we resumed our drive. Five minutes down the road, we passed a sign that said OUTDOOR DRAMA, NEXT EXIT. We laughed quite a while. Of course, we had more laughter when we passed a sign about forty minutes later that said JESUS IN THE HILLS, NEXT RIGHT. So that's where he's been all this time.

We continued on and had a very nice weekend, catching up with everyone and reveling in the West Virginianess of it all. I do miss me my home country sometimes. Not enough to drive through Ohio every weekend to get to it, though. Sheesh.

Still trying to cobble together all the pictures from our recent trip to parts east. I've got a few put up on facebook, but still have to pull others from a temp cache that I haven't bothered to look for yet.

Here are a few samples for the time being:

quick update as to the day's events:

• Lena is now en route to Estonia. Through the magic of the internet and some creative juggling, her ticket cost her ~$500 less than it otherwise might have. I'll clarify a) when I have more time and b) when we know if it worked okay.
• The normal routes to Chicago near the NW corner of Indiana (80, 90, 94) appear to be in somewhat of a state of flux. If you're going, and you have any schedule that you need to keep, I recommend figuring out your route ahead of time. We did not. We plowed ahead and succeeded through sheer dumb luck. And some guesswork. I recommend I-294 for your O'Hare Airport needs.
• After a day in the car, I smell kind of funny.
• I suspect that the car smells worse.
• Bear is the first cat to officially go through the cat door in its fully closed state. With some encouragement from me and after several plaintive maiows and paw-scratchings, he started pushing harder, and finally braved the door on his own. Twice. Dasha hasn't figured it out yet, and scratches at the bottom of the big door instead. Maya lounges under our bed until the door is propped open, the way it's supposed to be.
• It's 1:30 am, and I'm juiced to the hilt on a caffeine buzz from all the coffee/diet coke/diet dr pepper I drank in the last 7 hours. I think I'll go paint a mural or something.

Back from parts west. First time I've traveled for the comp'nee. Flew out with Arcade Game Sensei and Mr Bremus on Monday morning, flew back yesterday. Flight from OC to the Windy City was smooth enough, until the landing approach. Windy City lived up to its name. We were rolling back and forth like crazy-- Arcade Game Sensei, seated at the back of the plane, said there was so much bounce, roll, and yaw it was scary. I thought we were going to scrape (and lose) a wing as we landed.

Our subsequent flight to the Fort was delayed, then delayed, and delayed again-- they announced at strategic intervals that the plane we were going to be taking had not yet even departed on its previous flight, from Champaign-Urbana... which was under tornado watch or warning... as was the Fort. When the delay hit 3 hours, we decided to break for the car rentals and drive home... I think we scored one of the last unreserved cars in the airport. Anyway, we made it into the Fort as the sun was setting, and saw at the airport that the flight *still* hadn't left Chicago.

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Lots of stuff going on this weekend.

WVU basketball triumphed over Duke on Saturday. Evidently Duke had been off its game for the last 3 or so matches, but I'll take it. I don't normally watch any basketball, but college hoops, on occasion, ain't bad. The mountaineer ladies are still in their tourney as well, and I believe play again this monday. Go, mountaineers!

Lena and I headed up north with our friend M (no relation to the Bond movie M), and took in a few of the sights of Dearborn, home of the largest arabic populace in the US. We hit a bakery, a grocery store, and then a restaurant. The bakery is awesome despite its less-than-impressive website... the restaurant was quite a trip. Arabic cuisine, arabic music (DJ), belly dancing, and hookahs. There is quite an array of tobacco blends available; M had double-apple, I had some fruit blend thingy starting with J. First time smoking a hookah; the whatever-it-is I had went down quite smooth. We got back at about 6 this morning. Rough. Fun, though. Even if I can't decipher the Arabic dancing for shit. Oh well.

To top off the weekend, Maya, our queen-sized hauskitti now weighing in at a svelte 15.3 pounds, is limping badly and oozing pus from her eyes. So, hello emergency vet, goodbye another hundred dollars. The most fun about all this is forcing a non-trivial-sized pill an angry cat's throat. Even hauskittis get upper respiratory tract infections, I guess. We're saving the pus.

In other news, I finally watched Princess Mononoke, an anime flick I had borrowed from Mr Bremus a long while back. Not bad, really-- I think I'm ready to delve lightly into some more anime. Lightly. I'm going to start with revisiting one of my brother's and my childhood staples, Starblazers. I remember hiking down the hill before school to Todd Korab's house, where we would watch Starblazers and Speed Racer, then make our way to school. Ah, memories.

Anyway. A weekend of the arts, I suppose. And cat pus. Good times.