The Cincinnati suburbs are shrouded is awesomly thick foliage which hides almost everything but the metropolitan area. This is both aesthetically awesome and also great for hiding and snatching up passerbys.
The racial tension is intense. There’s a pretty clear division between the east side (white) and the west side (black). It probably stems from the racist, redneck mentality of the east which leads to an aggressive disposition in the west that keeps perpetuating itself as a circular, retarded, self-fulfilling prophecy. That being said, if you go on the west side at night you’ll probably be shot.
As you go into the city there’s billboard after billboard for vacationing elsewhere.
Ohioans are the most self-deprecating group of people I’ve ever met. Every time I tell someone I recently moved to the city they apologize. Even more confidence inspiring than the billboards.
My place’s deck sits across from the “Riddle Road Market and Deli,” which specializes in random foodstuffs (some chips must be years past their expiration date as I haven’t seen some of the designs on them since I was a child), soda (or “pop” if you suck), but most importantly it has a wide variety of boozes and cigarettes. This brings an eclectic mix of crackheads from the west and ridiculously attractive U of C girls from the east together. It’s better than TV.
My favorite place outside of Cincinnati is the P.F. Changs off of I-75. Not because of the food, but because the entrance is a revolving door in which clingy couples that try to both fit in the same slice get awkwardly stuck in it all the time. The longer the wait for our table the better.
The air is so humid it’s impossible to feel clean for a period longer than 4 hours. I’ve regressed back into my early college days when I’d only take a shower every few days. No use in fighting it.
The fireflies are ridiculously kickass.
Fireflies are awesome.
Humidity is horrible. Embrace the lack of showers, your balls will remain swampy well into August.