I had only one goal today: find a dress for tomorrow’s wedding.
I failed at finding a dress. Instead, I bought three jackets, three camisoles, two pairs of jeans, two pairs of shoes, and a turtleneck in a pear tree.
Luckily, I brought a dress with me. I think I can wear one of the new jackets with it.
I hate shopping—really, really hate shopping—so when I do it, I go all out. I’m not sure now how I’m supposed to fit it all into the carry-on bag I brought with me. I could wear it all on the plane but that would be ridiculous. My FMBs took up a lot of space in the bag, so I can wear those home. I purposely didn’t bring enough clothes for the week knowing that I wasn’t going to have enough room after shopping. Hrm. I did bring a pair of wool pants. Maybe those are more appropriate for a winter wedding in Chicago than a dress.
After shopping, I went back to my hotel and played fashion show. Realizing I hadn’t eaten lunch, I ate some celery I’d brought. Don’t feel bad for me. I had two more pieces of the pizza from last night for breakfast. Skipping lunch wasn’t a big deal. I felt bad for tossing the last two pieces. I wish I’d run into the homeless guys after dinner last night. I would have given them all my leftovers.
I put on the comfortable pair of new shoes, a cami and a jacket, then covered them with my big, grey, wool coat; lavender scarf; and wool cap; and headed back out into the cold and wind.
I love the architecture in Chicago. It is amazing. Without all the shopping bags, I could walk around and see the amazing buildings. Funny how shopping bags get in the way of that!
I didn’t take any photos. The sky was grey and the photos would look as depressing as it is, so I prefer to remember it in my mind as beautiful and intricate. To me, Chicago is Boston without the cow paths and with lessons learned.
The weird thing I saw on Michigan Ave was that there are two levels to the city. The ritzy shopping area that took all my money is on the second floor. When I was actually watching where I was walking, I realized there was a service level first floor. Odd, but at the same time, extremely utilitarian. I do like me some utility.
I checked out the old water tower. They had photos of before and now. I stopped at the visitor center to figure out what I was missing. Then I spent a half an hour at the John Hancock building on my iPhone trying to see if there was a way to buy drinks instead of paying to see the observatory. Better value for the price.
There is a lounge. 96th floor.
I started with the Rush Street: Bailey’s Irish Cream, Frangelico, Amaretto DiSaronno, cream.
I watched the sunset. Sort of. I really would have watched it except I am at the bar where it is mostly couples and single people. There were two guys. I don’t know if they were a couple or on a bro date. Either way, the sunset was over the shoulder of one of them. I kind of wanted him to buy me a drink, but I wasn’t going to take him home.
Commence blogging.
The smell is intoxicating. Spices. I have to have it.
The bartender had never given me a menu. I was ignored for a while, cleavage and all. So I looked up the drink menu on the internets. When he did pay attention, I was ready. It was a tough call between two of the drinks. This time I ordered the one that was spicy. The Seasonal Hot Spiced Pear Cider: Cruzan Spiced Rum, Butterscotch Schnapps, Hot Spiced Pear Cider.
I was on the phone with Meine Schwester. This isn’t the place to pick up single men. The bartender was much nicer this time. Maybe I smiled more. He asked later if I liked it. I told him that I’d been smelling it and couldn’t resist. He showed that it was brewed in front of me. I want to do a study about the number of people in this seat that order it.
I am paying the check. The bartender wanted to know which drink I liked better. I told the bartender how he had ignored me. When the check came, I think there was only one drink on it. I tipped him for two.
It is only quarter past five. I have more planned. I have to stop kidding myself about going to a city to see the sights. I eat and drink and walk my way around.
Tying to decide if I stop at the wine bar on my way to dinner.
It’s still early…
…but I’m afraid of the elevator.





Posted by Mike on December 27, 2011 at 8:35 pm
Clearly you need to show more cleavage! :-)