No, it’s not snowing here. In fact, it’s in the 70s, sunny, and beautiful. I should be in heaven. Instead, I’m sick.

So the cold is my cold. And the Christmas-y is my nose, which is red like Rudolph’s from all the tissues rubbing against it.

Apparently Andy’s sick and miserable too, back in Cincinnati, so I’m sure we’re going to have SUCH a fun reunion tonight when I get home…

Um, yeah.

In an interesting turn of events, Ike brought winds of up to 60 mph HERE, to CINCINNATI, and knocked out our power for about six hours.

Yaaaay candles!

If you are in (or visiting) Cincinnati, GO HERE NOW:

Space 513

Also GO THERE NOW if you just like neat stuff, because it’s tré cool. I’d love to do something similar (maybe for Houston? or Pittsburgh?) but, um, I have stories to write and people who will yell at me if I don’t…

I’m sure they do it for like every city, but a coworker told me about Capture Cincinnati and I thought it was pretty cool. There are some really great photos there, so check ‘em out. (And yes, disclosure: I decided to participate.)

Yes, for some reason, Homearama is one word. But with a sunset like this, do you even care?

Yeah, didn’t think so.

I had never heard of Homearama, but last weekend Andy and I were eating at Relish, and he realized that we were only a few minutes away from this year’s Cincinnati site. So after dinner we drove around for a few minutes looking for it, Andy going, “I don’t see it, look it up on the BlackBerry!” and me going, “I can’t work your stupid BlackBerry!”

With a mild case of the Grumps about to set in, we gave up and were on our way back to the freeway when we saw a sign right in front of the driveway to Relish: HOMEARAMA THIS WAY —>.

o_O

Two hours, ten houses, and $24 later, we found our new home: #2 Savoy Blanc. Not only is it LEED certified (dunno what level), but it is GORGEOUS certified too. I mean seriously, can you imagine this in your backyard?

Your backyard that also has an HD TV, a built-in grill, and an enclosable porch for winter? Also, how cool is this bar? (The real boat’s not so bad either…)

And the best part is, I think we’re really close to being able to afford it. I mean, it’s not so hard to make $2 million, right?

The other homes were nice — our 2nd fave was #1 Arreton Manor and our third fave was #8 The Artisan — but none really came close to Savoy Blanc for us. (PS: We had the same favorites in the same order. Good sign, no?) We did see some cool things to possibly incorporate into whatever house we actually DO buy in the future — which is really the point of Homearama for 99.9% of the people who attend. For example, I’d love a built-in bookcase or the AWESOME curvy wood side table below:

(I also like those flower photographs. That house had great art and furniture, but was overall too white/bright and too full of glass for me. I felt like I was going to break something.)

More Incredible Housing You Can’t Afford can be seen on my Flickr account here.

As of tomorrow I will have been living in Cincinnati for one year. That is, three hundred sixty-five days. Or, one twenty-second of my age. I.e., four point five four five four five four five four (…) percent of my lifetime.

One whole year.

I find it hard to believe that this much time has passed since I graduated from Carnegie Mellon, since I packed up my dorm room and moved in with Andy, since I started working and paying bills and living life in the Real World.

Especially in the region of the Real World called Cincinnati, Ohio.

Growing up in Texas, I had enough geography to worry about in my own state, so I didn’t think too much about the rest of the U.S. or the world. Case in point: at age 4 I thought that because (a) Grandma lives in Florida, and (b) I have two Grandmas, then (c) there must be 2 Floridas. S-M-R-T!

With that said, it should come as no surprise that I knew nothing about Cincinnati until Andy moved here for his job, and even then I only learned it was in Ohio. “That must mean it’s close to Cleveland, right?” “Um… no.” “Oh.”

When I got here, I saw that there wasn’t much diversity (black and white and not much else), and I didn’t have any friends, and there was NO FREAKING BUBBLE TEA*, and naturally I thought, “This isn’t going to work.”

But a year later, when Angie came to visit and I drove her to places like Eden Park, Fountain Square, and Jungle Jim’s, I realized that somehow Cincinnati has grown on me. And I don’t mean like a fungus. More like a new haircut: you don’t like it at first, but then it gets a little longer, a little more familiar, and you realize it actually suits you all right.

Actually, that analogy doesn’t really do justice to how I felt driving down I-75 with Angie, telling her about the traffic patterns and the weather and my favorite places to eat. What I felt was ownership of this place, this small Midwestern town that I now belong to. Cincinnati has become my home — one of my many homes — and I’m happy, because I used to be afraid that that might never happen.

I’ll admit, Cincinnati didn’t sweep me off my feet the way Madrid did, but not every romance is going to be a whirlwind or a fairytale like that. Doesn’t make it any less meaningful.

All this introspection comes at a good time — the one-year mark — because I’m typical and I like to think of my life as having milestones or landmarks. I think this is one of them. I think this is going to be a pivotal moment, a turning point that could make or break me. I’m about to take a big blind leap into the unknown. And I’m glad I’ll be doing it here, in Cincinnati, where I’ve learned a little bit more about myself by learning a little bit more about where I am.

*Update: I have found bubble tea! See comments below.

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On a somewhat related note, I finally found what I’ve been searching for. It’s what this next year will be all about:

When I was younger, I used to wonder what my life would be like when I reached certain ages… I’m not sure I made it past about 20… But what I probably would have imagined, back in the day, is that I’d have some kind of career I was totally in love with, for one.

This is actually from my friend Mary’s most recent LJ post, but it sounds like something straight out of my own diary. As I child I dreamt about high school and especially college, but somehow my imagination never really got past that time frame. I’m not sure why. I am sure, however, that not having a good idea of what should or could or might come next had me terrified.

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From “Rough Draft,” the Cincinnati Writers’ Project newsletter:

There are precisely two cannots in the writing universe without caveats. 1) You cannot bore your reader, 2) You cannot piss off your editor. It’s that simple.

I haven’t actually attended the group yet (that comes on Wednesday) but from their newsletter I can tell two things: they’re funny, and they know what they’re talking about. Both could be good for me.