
Dear Blogg,
Greetings from the Windy City. I stepped off the plane Thursday with a sense of purpose, of gladness. The air felt and smelt crisp, absent of Texan humidity. 8 days of training or no 8 days of training, I was happy to get the fuck out of Dodge for a while. I haven't been here for over 10 years, and I wanna to go walk down the streets, look at the buildings, sit by the lake. Be alone.
The first night was a comedy of errors. The shuttle driver who took us from Midway to O'Hare (not far distance-wise but worlds apart) was a crusty old bastard who didn't say a word. Neither did anyone in the van. He rode the edge of the lane like a drunk prom queen, and I tried to ignore the flagrant finger I was receiving on the passenger's side. I was rapt with wonder over being in a new old city, loving the neighborhoods, the houses, both ghetto and fabulous, the billboards, the graffiti, the promise, the people. I've always been attuned to cities' personalities. Suddenly I burst out with "BROOKFIELD ZOO!" like some sort of Tourrette's victim. I had seen a sign and immediately thought of elephants. Still no one spoke.
Within walking distance from the Extended Stay Deluxe on Touhy Street was a Chili's, an Office Max, a Krispy Kreme, a Target, and some other crap. I walked a half mile to buy a bottle of wine only to find that Percy, the clueless front desk dick with whom I would have many frustrated conversations that ended with me saying "fantastic" and walking away, had no wine opener and no idea where they went. I would have walked back to the store to get one too, if they weren't closed. More pressing, he had no idea how to get my shit online, and there's no way I can go a week without internet. Despite his name Percy is neither gay nor black (maybe gay but definitely not black), and he is most certainly not helpful. After 20 minutes of tech support guidance from a patient Paki (and a patient Wentlandt), I got it together. Meanwhile, I learned I am not missing much with no cable tv. I did learn that Posh Spice (Posh, right? the one married to Beckham?) is starting a reality show, so I'm gonna go out on a limb and say 8 months til they're divorced. Any takers? I'm also pleased that Day After Tomorrow was on yesterday and Deep Impact is on tomorrow--I dig disaster flicks. Oh, and it's nice to not have Texas brought into commercials, such as "that's what I like about Texas," or "it's bigger in Texas and better in a Dodge." Other states don't have this weird obsession with their name that they have to bring it into their television programming.
Morning came too damn soon.
Training was pretty boring, I won't get into it. I've met some cool people, most of them fairly young and in grad school. I thought it was funny that the people in my group thought I was really intellectual and blah blah after our week of phone conferences. I was usually stoned. After 8 hours of that nonsense, some of us hoofed it to the Chili's to get some margarita in us, and it became clear that a few people were pretty pumped to get away from their kids and spouses. Not in a sleazy kinda way, but just excited to make a liquor store trip and trying to get everyone to hang out in random rooms together and drink. I did that in college, so after Chili's and another trip to Target to buy a swimsuit (a horrible experience but necessary as my sister and her kids are coming tomorrow and staying a night at another hotel with a pool) I retreated to my room. That pretty much brings us up to now.
more pics, the last of a nearby bank whose name baffles me:



Wouldn't that be the 15th bank?
Ma n' Pa are swinging through on Sunday, David on Monday. I was hoping to get my sister by herself so we could go cut a rug, but I love her and her husband and kids and can't wait to see them too, even if it means stuffing my out-of-control boobs into a Target swimsuit and swimming in a gross hotel pool.
UFOs over O'Hare, y'all.
Note the Texas dude. Arizona or something.
So, Blogg, if you want any Chicago souvenirs, let me know. Be home in a week!



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