The Scarvelis Dump

(Note: This week’s entry will be very abbreviated, as I didn’t get a chance to write all weekend).

Boy, am I exhausted. This past weekend I went to Chicago (thus, no WEEKEND UPDATE) with my friends Eran and Kate. We stayed right on the Magnificent Mile (my hotel, the Allerton, was right on Michigan Avenue; the girls chose to stay at the Wyndham, a block East). I was on the 17th floor overlooking all the stores, which was nice for people-watching (except the people looked really small, like bugs scurrying around with shopping bags, which was a little creepy). We met up with our mutual friend Mary Beth and had a nice lunch with her fiancée, Dan, and their baby, Tommy. Tommy ordered a peanut butter and jelly sandwich off the children’s menu. They brought him the biggest sandwich I’ve ever seen. I don’t know who the chef is at the Allerton, where we were eating, but they really shouldn’t have made such a vulgar sandwich for a little baby. (These huge portions are making America a nation of fat slobs)

Well, during our stay we drank a lot, ate some good meals and had a lot of laughs. I had some fantastic sushi and sashimi on Friday night at a place called Sushi Samba. It was so delicious, it made me dizzy. On Saturday we ate at a place called Feast in Wicker Park (also sort of creepy—I kept thinking of the original Wicker Man movie which always skeedges me out). Then on Sunday we had brunch at a place called West Egg and headed home. All that driving really aggravated my lumbago. Today my knees and ankles and legs and hips are all stiff and I’m walking funny. I’m also really, really tired. I almost fell asleep at the wheel on my way to an 8:00 a.m. client meeting this morning. When I get sleepy in the car, I have this trick where I turn the radio up really loud and sing at the top of my lungs. I don’t sing along with the words, though. I substitute the words to the songs with really raunchy obscenities. For some reason, that wakes me up—oh well, I guess you have to do whatever gets you through the day.

There sure are a lot of stores, most of them very expensive, in Chicago. And a lot of people buying things from them, too. I didn’t buy anything, though. The trip itself cost me a fortune. Between the hotel, booze and the meals, I blew through money like it was toilet paper. I was hoping the trip would help me to unwind and relax, but now I need to scrimp for the next couple of months to get back into my financial comfort zone, and that makes me very nervous and uptight because my greatest fear is financial ruin (followed closely by testicular cancer).

Oh, and Chicago was really hot and sticky this weekend and the air conditioning in my hotel room didn’t work very well, so that was a bummer.