Yesterday I began my “official” break, and based on the evidence thus far, I’m excited about the potential.
I flew into Chicago at 10:10 AM, and promptly hopped the blue line downtown to this place, where I enjoyed a lunch of baguette and Mediterranean-herbed goat cheese while listening to the strains of some music that I assume is more tourist-French than actual French. But I loved it. I’m slightly obsessed with pseudo-French culture.
Then I was off to wander the streets of downtown Chicago, where I got to window shop and people-watch to my heart’s content. And I’m happy to report that although I left a little room in my busy schedule for a brief mugging or two (because anyone looking at much like a tourist as I did is basically asking for it), I managed to get by without anyone so much as pickpocketing my leftover baguette.
Then it was off to the ‘burbs for dinner with this guy:
Humor-wise, he’s the male version of me. Last time we went out in Chicago, we almost got kicked out of Culver’s because we were laughing so hard the workers thought we were drunk. Getting kicked out of a fast food dive for being decidedly obnoxious is kind of like getting kicked off of Facebook for stalking your crush.
Then it was back to my brother and sister-in-law’s house, where Daniel plied his trade by doing chiropractic adjustments on all of us (and yes, the next guy I have a dinner date with is going to have to bust out some really impressive skills to be able to live up to that) and I got to cross something off my bucket list when Daniel let me pop the lid off his lager using only the corner of a table and my own brute strength.
The evening rounded off with the inevitable discussions of the good old days, family systems, Pavarotti, NPR, and George Plimpton.
Next up: Time with wonderful people from high school and summer camp, and dinner with my oldest friend and archenemy Andy. Then it’s off to Michigan to see my awesome aunt, grandparents, and baby brother.
What are y’all doin’ with your Thanksgiving time?