I just got back from vacation from Chicago and its surrounding suburbs. You may be rolling your eyes at the concept of “suburbs,” but just know this: I was staying with Sisyphus and her family, which meant every morning some mysterious guiding force had put out all the makings of breakfast, including chopped fruit in bowls. Since I live alone and take care of myself, even when really sick, this was a godsend. I’d wake up, and someone else had done all the work!
“It’s elves,” Sisyphus said.
“But I thought I saw your mother with a knife–”
“No! It’s elves.”
There was also a bird, which loved me a lot and then bit me:
Note the elves’ work, which consisted of chopped berries and bananas for the aforementioned bird.
Anyway, Sisyphus, her twin the Activist, Sisyphus’s boyfriend Prometheus (featured very early on this blog) and I would all head out into the city to do Tourist Things. Usually, I’m ashamed of being a capital T Tourist, but not this time! It was just fun and gritty and great. Here are some skyline shots to prove it:
And it was really nice! It was nice to be a tourist, to take pictures of myself like the one below (Where’s Libra?, a fun family game), and then to take a lurching train back to the suburbs where even more food awaited in bowls.
Now, I have an important question. I saw three guys traveling together on my way to Chicago, all of them dressed kind of douchey. Are these guys famous (ie, in a band that affords them fun travels but only on Southwest) or do they just dress like that? I mean, I get it. You should see how I dress to go grocery shopping. You decide:
Now we’ll return to our regularly scheduled pettiness.