Sunday, December 1, 2013

Dear North Carolina... (Part I)

I don't deny being a cranky New Englander. It's who I am. That's what happens when a girl has to scrape ice off her windshield four months out of the year. But I wanted to take a moment and let you know one important thing: I underestimated you on a couple counts. But before I get ahead of myself, I'd like to introduce the cast of characters...

First is Kias (rhymes with ice; he loves it when people say, "Kias, Kias, baby," so if you meet him, totally go for it). He's my brother's good friend from high school and like a second brother to me. We can talk him into doing just about anything. Maybe all Tunisians are like this? I'll have to meet more and get back to you. We love him. He loves his phone (as we'll see in part II).

Next is Ligia, our Colombian mastermind. She somehow manages to put up with my brother and still smile at the end of the day. I take this to mean that Colombian women are super resilient.

Then there's me. You know too much about me already.

Last is Little Brother. Okay, okay...he has a name. And just to keep a mild racial tinge going in this post, Michael and I are pasty, reserved French Canadians, both with some Swede mixed in--which is weird; we both got that from our separate fathers. Mom? Want to tell us something?

So this was our gang last weekend. Kias and I both left Boston for Charlotte at separate times just to make my brother have to plan more. He's the kind of guy who likes an itinerary.

Which is why I was barely in the state for an hour when we found ourselves at the Carolina Renaissance Festival.

Underestimation #1: I thought I would hate going to a ren fair. 

Nope. North Carolina, I was in geek heaven. I really liked it.

Per Wikipedia, it's a fictional village named Fairhaven.

I won't lie--stilt boy was hot.

We immediately volunteered Kias.

*crosses "be part of balancing/juggling troupe" off bucket list*
What ren fair would be complete without a joust?

We weren't supposed to cheer for this guy, but Ligia and I both know
when there's a hot bad guy in the haus (wink, wink).

I have about 80 pics like this; I'll spare you. It's much better in person.

Did you doubt my ability to find sheep wherever I go?
Award for best job at the fair...

She was transcendentally beautiful.

My unicorn was taken away at airport security.

I learned that there are people who travel with the fair.
After a while, it's hard to know who's a carny, and who's legit.

Award for best father-daughter costumes...
There was a strong man contest. We totally cheered The Fonz Kias on.

You can't see it in this tiny picture, but the thinger just hit the bell. Kias is strong like bull.
Shit got real when Ligia pointed out what she wants for Christmas.

I may have become slightly enamored with these guys. The London Broil.

That chick was very, very scared.

Matt Connolly of The London Broil
(not that I cyberstalked him to find his name or anything...)
We may have headed back to see a second joust.
This was a sad moment for Ligia and me.

One very disappointed wench. We're from New England.
We don't cheer loudly. We apologize.
Sometimes I'm sad that we don't look more alike.

And then someone teases us and we have the same reaction.

"Ligia, look concerned! We're worried about our empire!"
(Yes, I said that. She is kind of the coolest sister in law ever.)

Wait. What? Kias photobombed us.

Kias, Kias baby...

To be resumed in part II...

1 comment:

  1. *quietly humming 'It's A Small World' as I wander by*