Grandpa is a whoreson.

Ohio is home to something called "Grandpa's Cheese Barn." On our way home from COFW, we wanted to stop at this wonderland and purchase some of the meats, cheese, gifts, and fudge touted on Grandpa's many, many billboards.

Well, Grandpa's was closed when we got there. We can only assume he was spending his typical Sunday morning passed out in a 1972 VW microbus in front of the Showtime Gentlemens' Club with a 54-year-old stripper and an assortment of empty Ohio wine bottles.

See if Grandpa gets a Christmas card this year.

I don't care what anybody says, Ohio is pretty nice.

So I have spent the weekend at the Central Ohio Fiction Writers conference in Worthington, Ohio with my chapter president, Gina Ardito. Many wondrous things have happened, including Facebook-fighting, text-torturing our vice president, who could not attend (BWAHAHAHAHA!!), and assorted shmoozing. The conference was informative and fun, the people we've met (*cough cough Virginia Kantra cough cough*) have been absolutely fabulous, and we gained some insight into how to put together our own conference, which we hope to make reality in 2012. We're tired, but it's a good kind of tired. We're hoping it will still be the good kind of tired AFTER the ten-hour drive home tomorrow, but Gina knows when to keep her mouth shut, so I foresee easy traveling.