Emily's sister Rebecca got Married in Cincinnati last week. Em, Kat and I left DC on Tuesday, the day of the second big snow storm. We decided that it would be too dangerous to drive north through the blizzard, so we went south instead. Tuesday night we stayed in Knoxville (yeah, we went that far south) and left for Cincinnati the next morning. We stopped for lunch at a small diner in Lexington, Kentucky, which made everyone sick. Emily and Kat then had to check out every little boutique in the city before getting back on the road.

We arrived in Cincinnati in time for them to go to the bridal shower. I ate Gold Star chili (bad idea) and read Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations in the hotel room. Thursday, we helped them set up the reception hall and went to the rehearsal.

Friday, I went to Skyline Chili with Todd, Tom and Dan to avenge my initial experience with Cincinnati chili. This time it was much better. It may have been the fact that the restaurant seemed more hygienic and the people handling the food wore gloves, but it did seem like the food was actually better.

That night was the wedding. The service was held in a church and they decided to do the entire Catholic mass. Emily and I kept ourselves entertained during the service by taking lots of pictures. The reception was held at a site near our hotel. Emily's aunt wasn't feeling well and wanted to go back to her room, but she wouldn't leave until she got a piece of cake. So throughout the toasts, she stood next to the cake with her plate and fork at the ready. I think she got a piece before the bride and groom even got theirs. The rest of the wedding went off without a hitch and everyone had fun.

We took the northerly route home and continued our quest to stop at every Starbucks on the route (or at least that's what it felt like). In West Virginia, we followed the map to what was suppose to be a Starbucks in Wheeling. We ended up at a casino. It was the strangest thing; the people looked like zombies. They were all staring slack-jawed into their slot machines, only moving one finger to press the button. The repetitive tones played by the machines seemed to hypnotize them. I don't think we could have pulled them away from the games if we tried. I met a guy with a custom made, air-brushed shirt that said "Diceman N' Da House".