"It's a Hoedown, Everyone!"

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we’re sorry to inform you, but your plane from Cincinnati to New York La Guardia has been delayed multiple hours due to thunderstorm activity in the New York airport.”

Groans filled the terminal, and Christine and I slumped back into our chairs, trying to get comfortable for what seemed to be a long wait (and what turned out to be, in fact, a long wait). Was this Déjà vu? Didn’t this just happen in La Guardia on Friday night, flying into Cincinnati? Was that Santa Claus? I pondered to Christine, inconspicuously motioning her towards an older gentleman, complete with a full-on white beard and red shirt. No, she assured me, it certainly was not.

Then, another "great" comment: "Ladies and Gentlemen, we will be experiencing further delays due to the fact that we cannot locate your pilot." That's good, right?

Sitting in the surprisingly comfortable Delta terminal in Cincinnati’s airport, I thought back over the past few days – quite a blur, in all honesty. But, then again, the blurring sensation could just be the sleep deprivation. We were on a voyage throughout the southeastern Ohio landscape for the weekend; our main reason for traveling was to celebrate the marriage of our two great friends, Nate and Andrea, but we were more than happy to spend time with family along the way. Now, having spent all our energy and funds on a quite exceptional trip, we sat back and tried to relax, enjoying the last few hours before New York.

The trip started where it seemed like it took place entirely: in an airport terminal. Thunderstorms filled the New York area, and as expected, the plane leaving La Guardia was delayed. Christine and I were able to witness a scenario at the bag check counter that would really only occur in New York.

Foreign Guy From Country I’m Not Sure Of: “Uh, yes, I had a, uh, question about my airline ticket. I was supposed to depart at 6:30 PM, but my ticket that was just printed says that I am delayed and not leaving until 9:30 PM. There has been a mistake.”

Airline Employee: “Yes sir, we’re sorry, but all flights have been delayed due to the weather.”

FGFCINSO: “I don’t understand. I bought my plane ticket to leave at 6:30. Why can’t the plane take off?”

AE: “Sir, have you looked outside? It’s literally thunderstorming out. No planes can take off. There is nothing we can do.”

FG: “This is ridiculous and unacceptable.”

We left, so I couldn’t hear if there was anything else said. No word on whether or not that guy left on a plane on time or if he did, in fact, have to accept the delayed flight. I’d choose the latter. After wandering around the terminal for a couple hours and eating a food-coma-inducing dinner from Chili’s, we boarded our fairly empty plane and set off for the homeland. The flight itself was pretty standard: Christine read, I fell asleep, and nothing too exciting really happened. We arrived at CVG just past midnight, and were picked up by two smiling (but likely tired) parents, as Christine’s mom and dad so graciously picked us up and drove us back to Harrison, Ohio: our resting place for the next few days.

The event of the weekend was slated to take place in Columbus on Saturday afternoon. After multiple people asked me which part of Columbus it was in, I did some research, but am still not convinced I know, or really ever knew. Regardless of where it was, we used google maps and were able to make it to the service in record time, a full 45 minutes early. As you can see by these beautiful pictures, we were able to see Andrea and the Bride’s maids have their official pictures taken. What a group!

After the service, and all that, blah, blah, blah, you can see me, Tyler, Rick, and Fromm were ready to hit up this reception. We heard some great things about the reception site, and we were darn well ready to get ourselves down and dirty on the dance floor. Rumor also had it that the infamous City Barbecue would be catering, offering absolutely delicious pulled pork and good ol’ country cooking. Mmmmhmmm! So after the ceremony and send off and all that jazz, which some people call the important part, but I like to call the “pre-party,” we headed off towards the real fun: the reception.

Picture a barn in the middle of rural Ohio. Include goats, cornfields, hay, straw hats, and the whole shebang. Then picture a wedding party. Sound awesome? Yeah, I thought so, too, and I trusted Nate and Andrea, so I was ready and pretty excited for this party.

This party did not disappoint! All of our hopes and dreams came true (“all” meaning just one, the one that they were going to have City Barbecue), and we ate and drank to our fill. We even were able to have quite a good time with the wedding favors, which made us seem to be like old men. Even the girls got in the fun too, and I must say, looked quite the part. Check out the pictures and see for yourself.

I also overheard quite the conversation between two older country gentlemen, discussing the impending argument at hand: how could this supreme party be labeled?


Man 1: “Well I’ll be! This here’s a hoedown!”


Man 2: “You don’t say! I reckon it’s a hootenanny!”


Man 1: “Hoedown!”


Man 2: “Hootenanny!!”


(This continued for 13 minutes, where a full-out line dancing fued ensued, with Man 1 coming through victorious, officially naming the party a “Hoedown.”)


The wedding was a great time, and even better was that we saw many of the ol' gang from college. I'll list some, so they feel appreciated for gettinga shoutout: Andrea and Nate (obvi), Meg and Tyler, Fromm, Whitney and Rick, Jenny, and Brian, to name a few. It was a reminder to both of us how lucky we are to have had such a great group of friends in college. Thanks guys, YOU're the best.

We left the wedding and made our way back to Cincinnati for the night. Along the way, Christine's parents called us and wanted us to come out with them to a bar on the river. It was 1 in the morning, and Christine's *parents* wanted us to go to a bar. Was this backwards? We ended up heading down to the river and meeting up, closing down the bar. I haven't closed down a bar probably EVER, and all it took was one night with the Plagemans in Cinci to do so. Thanks for helping us check another life goal off our list.

We tried to sneak back into the Westerkamp house, hoping not to wake Christine's grandparents' with our late arrival. But when we walked in the door, Christine's grandmother and grandfather were waiting near the doorway in their robes, arms folded, worried sick about us being out so late. We were teenagers all over again, sneaking in late after a crazy night on the town. Sleep was necessary: tomorrow was another busy day.

The morning brought Sunday brunch. Delicious Graeter's rolls, salads, and fruit cups galore greeted us at the breakfast table. And even more importantly, more family came to join us! The Mayhaus family came over to spend some time with us, and Charlie even pried himself out of bed at the ungodly hour of 10 am to bless us with his warming presence. This breakfast really added to a great weekend, as spending time with both of our families normally does. Living in New York City without a car usually prohibits much time together with the family, so we've learned to really appreciate every chance we have. We hung out with the family for the majority of the day, snacking and chatting away.

The events bring us back to where we are now: an airport terminal, listening to an airline attendant explain more reasons why we're delayed as we look at fake Santa Claus and listen to approximately 17 babies scream their heads off, because it's waaaaay past their bedtime. Another Cincinnati visit is in the books, people, and another good time can be chalked up right next to it. Until Christmas, when we take the city by storm, this is Eric and Christine, live from New York...

The 100% True Story of When Eric and Christine* Bought a TV

Greetings, blog-o-spherians! For this week's epic view into our more than interesting lives, I have allowed our good friend and world-famous author Benjamin Franklin Wietmarschen write a "guest blog" about how we were able to receive one of the gifts from our wedding. Sit back, enjoy, and please visit ericmayhaus.blogspot.com to view the hilarious, yet scene-capturing photos from this historic event.

The 100% True Story of When Eric and Christine* Bought a TV

By Ben Wietmarschen

Eric coughed softly as he inspected the cluttered space that was his new home. Looking at the piles of unpacked boxes lining the floor and furniture pushed to the corners of the living room, he slowly felt the full weight of his new married life descend onto his delicate, runner’s shoulders.

Where am I and how did I get here so fast? Was the thought that dominated his mind as he stood amidst all of the things of his life.

Emerging from another room, with even more of these things scattered in it, was Christine, Eric’s new second half. It was only two years ago, that Eric thought of himself as whole. Slowly, though, through the two years that was his American-dream-of-a-courtship with Christine, Eric’s sense of self was chipped away little by little until he was what you might call, “half a man.” Once Eric realized this had happened, long after he had a chance of doing anything about it, he realized Chrisitine was the only way to fill that void. So then, just as it has happened with “men” throughout history, he got married.

And thus he stood, amid their new home, unsure of what to expect next, only sure that the ring on his finger meant that one half of him was now female.

Where am I and how did I get here so fast?

Now, Christine had big plans for their new space. Doilies, ribbons, and candles had already begun flying out of boxes before Eric could say “Where should I put this ‘Pre’ poster”, and before he knew it, the packing was done and Eric found himself resting in a chair, sipping a diet Fresca as he fingered a plate of organic baby carrots and passively took in the sounds of the latest Fiona Apple album.

Where am I and how did I get here so fast?

“Where’s the TV going to sit?” Eric asked as Christine was busy hanging up a painting of a bunny rabbit sleeping in a bouquet of pink and red flowers.

“Um, I guess I didn’t really consider it. How about we try the room without a TV for a while?”

Where am I and how did I get here so fast?

“Um, Christine, babe, love-of-my-life, while I appreciate and respect your decision to use the entertainment center as a display for your Precious Moments figurines, I do think those shelves would be best used for the boss widescreen TV we got as a wedding present from all of our friends who love us.”

“Um, I mean, yes, we CAN get a TV, lovey, but TV’s are always distracting when we are playing our nightly scrabble games or planning dinner parties with other local married couples.”

“Um, my bride, I think having a TV would be good to lure over other couples who might not be married, and therefore not as lame, and might want to watch family friendly movies with us, or, um, you know, like, sports-or-whatever.”

“SPORTS?!?!?!”

“Yes, you like sports, remember.”

“No, I was just pretending.”

“Please humor me on this one, babe.”

“Fine.”

So off they went, in search of the best television money could buy (at Best Buy because that’s where the gift certificate is from) (and also, by “best money can buy”, we mean “as much money as their friends were able to scrounge up”). And, luckily, a local (handsome) man was able to capture the magic of finding the perfect television for the Mayhauses. Let’s take a look.

Eric --“Hey look at me I’m the man of the house with all the muscles! Also, this slap bracelet that I’m wearing is worth $800 in Best Buy because Best Buy loves the 80’s, apparently!”

This is about to become a bracelet. Ha-HA!

Eric – “As far as I can tell, these are all ‘Televisions’”

Christine – “Yes, I see where you’re going with this”

Eric – “Ah hell, just pick the shiniest one. OOHH look, The Black eyed Peas new album!”

Christine – “Eric, you’re getting distracted from TV buying by looking at your favorite musical group’s new album. Just because you love the Black Eyed Peas so much, Eric, doesn’t mean this TV is gonna pick itself. Eric, you love The Black Eyed Peas, we know this much, let’s move one, you’re a BEP-head, we get it. Come back over here!”

Signing the deal.

Christine – “It says here it’s about a baby who is a full grown adult that becomes an old small baby, eventually. Somehow. That is interesting. I also read about it in “Better homes and Gardens” They said it was real good.

Eric- “Oh we’re totally gonna watch Benjamin Button when we get home!”

Christine – “Thumbs up is still cool, right?”

Eric – “It doesn’t matter, we’re married, coolness stopped being a factor ages ago.”

“Simply the Best.”

And the finished product. I’d say everyone involved was happy with the result.

*Actual Christine much cooler than fictional Christine.

Official New Yorkers - ADDITION

After reading that last post, I realized I left out a big part of how we actually made it as far as we did up here.

Both sets of our parents helped us out a lot. Without them, we'd be living in New Jersey in my old apartment still, and for that we graciously thank all of them.

So, here's our big thanks to both the Plagemans and the Mayhaus' for helping us get situated here. We really appreciate it, and want you to know how much it meant to us.

Official New Yorkers

Well, we’re officially moved into our Manhattan apartment. It’s true. It wasn’t easy, but we made it!

Just like every little boy and little girl dreams of what coming back from an amazing wedding and honeymoon to their new, rock star-like dream home, we came back to ours: an empty apartment.

Now, I should probably start from the beginning about apartment hunting in New York City, as it is an entirely different beast than the rest of the country. We were warned/lectured/told about the stresses and hardships of finding an apartment in New York by our friends and colleagues. Please. We were above the curve, different from everyone else, and we were going to have a nice enjoyable process and find that perfect apartment whenever we felt like it. It is a buyer’s market, right?

Let’s just say it didn’t happen that way, and leave it at that. Ok, I’ll elaborate.

We started looking in the beginning of April, in hopes of feeling out the market and getting a good sense for what our money would be worth in our new neighborhood. And honestly, it wasn’t too bad, mainly due to the fact that we were just looking. Most people were pleasant and willing to make a deal with us. We entered each apartment with growing confidence that we were in charge, and were about to find our new home. Prices were dropping, amenities were being added, and spirits were raised. What could go wrong?

This is about the time when I thought it would be a good idea to go through a brokerage firm. Since the economy was tough, owners were paying the broker’s fee, rendering their services “free” to people like me. It was a perfect idea: take advantage of a broker’s extensive knowledge and listings for free! One day after work I went with the broker to check out a bunch of spaces in the area we were looking at. And whadaya know? There was indeed a great apartment for rent still on the market! We took everyone’s advice and jumped on the offer right away, sending our paperwork the next day. Here’s where it all went awry. They dropped the bombshell that I had to get them the deposit immediately or they couldn’t hold the apartment for me. They assured me this would be enough to save my spot during the owner’s credit check. Against my better judgment, I wired the money to the firm and sat back and tried to enjoy our “moment.”

Cue the next day. I get a call from our broker, and I naturally answer in a cheerful tone, expecting to hear we were cleared to rent. Instead a voice tells me, “I’m sorry, but it looks like the apartment was already rented.” Already rented? As in, not by me? Wait a second, I thought I put money down for this specific reason? I tried to be calm, but I couldn’t. And, it just so happened that it was a Friday, and they “couldn’t get me my money back until Monday.” Basically, the rest of the weekend was going to be a waste, because we couldn’t put any money down on another place. I was furious, upset, and felt taken advantage of. We sheepishly looked for apartments the rest of the weekend, having low hopes that anyone would wait for Monday to let us put money down.

It was breakfast on Sunday when my phone rang. It was Clyde, a representative for an owner showing an apartment on the exact street Christine lived on! We had seen this place before, but had kind of figured it would have sold, seeing as we looked at it early April. We rushed to the place and met Clyde again. He was lovely, and seemed to enjoy us. We told him our scenario, and he told us it would be no problem to wait until Monday to drop the dough off. Oh, did I mention, the place was perfect! Monday rolled around and I took care of getting all the money situated and paid (thanks in part to my Mom shooting me a short-term loan!), and went up and signed the lease. We were Manhattanites! They were even going to give us a BRAND NEW HARDWOOD FLOOR!! Things were falling into place, finally.

Before this next part, let’s just remember this all occurred within 3 weeks of our wedding. In that time period, I also managed to lose my wallet and cancel all of my credit cards, debit cards, file a police report, and freak out (it was later returned, thankfully). This time period is typically ultra-stressful, and anything added normally puts people over the edge. Got it? Well, move-in date rolls around, and we go up to check out our new and exciting apartment, and hear people working inside. Confused, we open the door to find two men still working on the floors. What? We ask them when they think they’ll be done, and they don’t speak English very well, but we’re able to get “June” out of them. The date of move-in was supposed to be May 15^th. Not June, or any other date. So we sat, one week to the day from our wedding, in Christine’s current apartment, frustrated and upset over the actions.

After a few days of phone calls, the floor was finally finished and we could move in. Moving in Manhattan was a threat on my psyche, and I was nervous and afraid of the challenges we would face. And, after all the troubles we had, it went really smoothly. Except for the part where I drove a U-Haul truck down 2^nd Avenue during rush hour. This was easily the craziest and most stressful half hour of driving in my life. How do people do this every day? It was gridlocked, and just plain mean. But now, we’re all moved in, have everything pretty much all set up, and are currently enjoying our new place! We can’t wait to see you all again, and hope that some or all of you will eventually be able to make it up for a visit! Until next time….

The Caribbean, Mon!!

Editors note: to view pictures, go to: ericmayhaus.blogspot.com

So, we got married!

In our typical fashion, things started going wrong as soon as we got to the airport in Antigua. The flights were uneventful enough, both full with newlywed honeymooners, each on our way to our respective tropical paradise. But, after the high of arriving in the Caribbean, our spirits were lowered as we realized Christine’s bag had been lost. It seemed to be pretty par for the course in Antigua as well, as about half the plane was lined up to report missing baggage. A great way to start of the honeymoon, indeed. But, because we were on our honeymoon, we shrugged it off, and looked forward to a week in the sun.

As if on cue, we were quite literally handed some good news as soon as we got to the resort. Sipping our free champagne, we found out we had been upgraded to a beach front room!! AND, we had an open bar in our room that would be restocked every night, not to mention the “free” food and drinks we could order at any time at the 5+ restaurants. This is something I could get used to.

After relaxing in a couple lounge chairs right outside our room (because we had beach front, remember?) we got up to walk around, and enjoy the scenery a bit. Christine somehow managed to scrape her knee in the process. It wasn’t a “bad” scrape, just a little scratch. No big deal, right? So, the next day we went to the nurse to get a band-aid for it. 45 minutes later, we leave the nurse’s station with 3 band-aids, some ointment, and a little bit of our dignity gone. Even though it was quite clear that this scrape was far from life threatening, an official form had to be filled out, and I had to write a sworn declaration of how Christine scraped her knee on a lounge chair. And as if this wasn’t enough, while we were in the waiting room, some guy came in and asked for a band-aid because he had a blister. But he had no problem getting one, as it seems a blister is grounds to a free, no questions asked band-aid, whereas ours was a struggle against everything. At this point, I started to get the idea that this kind of stuff was becoming a trend.

The food was phenomenal. We had a different meal in a different restaurant every night, including: Japanese, Italian, English pub food, Caribbean, Mediterranean, and Tex-Mex. It was great, especially the “free”ness of it and the free drinks. I say “free” with a grain of salt, because although we paid for this resort up front, it was still awesome to not have to pay at every meal or for every drink.

The beach was amazing as well. There weren’t too many people around, and we could pretty much sprawl out wherever we wanted. Being the fair-skinned, German descent couple that we are, we tried to stay in the shade when we could. I’ll have the hundreds of people who told us at the wedding “YOU guys better put on sunscreen! You’re soooooo pale!” know that yes, we have in fact noticed we’re both pale, and yes, we both did get burnt a bit. Christine even got a little sun rash. Go figure.

To make matters even more perfect, one day we decided to sit under an umbrella on the beach. We were enjoying the day, sipping our pina coladas, and all of a sudden a bird flies under the umbrella and proceeds to poop onto Christine. As if losing luggage, getting a scraped knee, spending 45 minutes in the nurses office about said knee, and a sun rash weren’t enough, she gets pooped on. I applaud you, karma. I did what every great husband should do, and that’s laugh hysterically. What a perfect week.

In short: this week in the sun was great, mon. In the land of “Don’t worry, be happy,” it’s easy to see how the people there are always in a good mood and always ready for a good time. It was a great time, and I’m still stuck in the clouds 2 weeks later. But, all good things end, and it is great to be back.

Stay tuned for more zany antics in New York from the newly married Dynamic Duo!

Cinco de Mayo! And How!

--If you can't view images in email, go to http://ericmayhaus.blogspot.com--
Hola mi Amigos! Saludos desde Neuva York!  This week's episode has a distinct Mexican flavor, as we here at Adventures in the Big Apple celebrate the richness of Mexican culture, and the victory of the Mexican army over the impeding French forces in the Battle of Puebla.  For those of us not familiar with Mexican history, it's Cinco de Mayo!

The big party, at least for Christine and I, was the celebration of this great festival with our Young Adults group after Mass on Sunday.  So, it was really on May 3rd.  So, Treo de Mayo.  Or Tres de Mayo, I'm not quite sure.  Regardless, it was a celebration of the Mexican culture!  A large group of young adults in their 20's and 30's (sorry other-aged people, but this was a somewhat "exclusive" event) gathered in a room totally decked out in Mexican gear.  Banners, ribbons, sombreros, Mexican music, and streamers filled the room with character.  Drinks of choice even included Margaritas, Dos Equis and Corona!  Hurra por la cerveza!  The best part was obvi the food.  My favorite dish was this little rolled up flour tortilla shell filled with delicious cheeses and chicken and meat.  It was kind of like a rolled up quesadilla.  And it was also kind of like a mini party that exploded in your mouth! (I know that was kind of lame, but what are you going to do?)  We ate, danced (some), drank, and enjoyed each others' company.  My boy John B even gave a proper explanation of what the significance of Cinco de Mayo is, and a shout out to Our Lady of Guadalupe, a central religious symbol in Mexican culture.

The Main Event

After overwhelming amounts of food was eaten, the main event started.  I was drafted (by force, I'll have you), into entering in a hot pepper-eating contest.  First off, let me just say that these peppers were hand picked by someone very familiar with Latin American culture, were humongous, and were slightly intimidating.  And I don't know the names of the peppers, but just trust me on the hot-ness factor of them.  

The first pepper up was slightly longer than my hand.  I attacked it with hopes of finishing quickly enough to not feel the pain.  It was decently spicy (a 4 or 5 on hotness scale), but nothing I couldn't handle.  The problem was it was pretty bland and just didn't taste good.  All 3 of us competing finished quite easily, save the fact that John's eyes started watering and sweat started dripping from his forehead almost immediately.  The second pepper was a let-down (3 on the scale).  We all were disappointed, and got a little too cocky.  

The third pepper was about a 9.763 on the hotness scale.  I figured it was going to burn and churn, so I tried to force it down as fast as possible.  But, it was too big to just swallow, so I was forced to chew it.  NEVER CHEW!  I finished first (no big deal, I won), and for about 24 seconds, I was fine, even mentioning, "it wasn't that bad, guys." Says the unsuspecting fool, about to be pounced upon by the spicy gods.  At roughly the same time, John and I looked at each other, wide eyed, and made a mad dash for chips, tortillas, and anything liquid.  When one's mouth feels like it's literally on fire, one's brain doesn't work properly enough to realize water only makes the pain worse.  Luckily there was milk on hand, and the two of us guzzled ourselves a glass.  Celine (the other participant) seemed relatively unfazed, at least not to our level. 

 And you may also be asking yourself, "Eric, where was your lovely fiance throughout your suffering?"  Well, she was doing what all good people do, laughing and taking pictures of my sweat drenched and pain stricken face.  Love you!  The pain wore off, but my tastes buds were bland for another day.  All in good celebration of Mexico!

Best Mexican Dish

Tacos.  Hands down (or up).  Although those rolly things with cheese and chicken were pretty darn good.  Let's be honest here.  We can all agree that all Mexican food is delicious.  I personally eat tortilla chips on a daily basis, and could live off of fajitas, tacos, burritos, and quesadillas for a majority of my adult life.  I applaud the Mexican culture for making its heritage so delicious. 

Best Mexican Beverage

After an epic battle that originally featured Corona pitted against the Margarita, the old timer comes out of nowhere to pull the upset W.  I'm speaking of none other than Dos Equis.

Best Mexican Restaurant in NYC

Seriously?  He's for real, isn't he?  Why, it's Blockheads of course!  Who doesn't love the larger-than-life burritos, the unlimited chips and salsa, and the world famous $3 Margaritas?!  No one.  No one doesn't love it.

Thanks for stopping by again, everyone!  I can't believe in only 2 weeks our wedding will be here!  We can't wait to see all of you again, and until next time....