Nekkid, Clueless and Feelin' Good: January 7, 2001

Sunday,
January 7, 2001

Howdy, y'all

Yes, I'm in Texas. Hosanna, hosanna.

Before that momentous arrival, however, we tramped over to Stacy's hotel for Sunday brunch (which was once again transmuted into Let's Riff on Melanie Morning. I swear I don't know what these two would do for a straight man without me) and ate custom-made omelets and fabulous sausages. Well, they had the omelets -- I did the sausages (hey, it's protein, mostly).

By the way, I'd just like to say that the Sheraton on East Water is a fabulous frigging hotel, and within spitting distance across the river from the Hyatt. I wish they could've held Chicon there.

Afterwards, we headed up to Stacy's room and met her friend Marni (who wasn't quite prepared for us, judging from her fascinated expression as we covered our associated histories), then waddled back to the Best Western afterwards (can't you just hear "Ah, ah, ah, ah -- stayin' alive, stayin' alive!" when you look at Bullethead off to the right?).

I feel I should add that there's also a hell of a lot of new construction going on in this area, right around Navy Pier -- I don't think the area was ever really downscale, but now it's going seriously condo. At least they'll have stunning scenery AND beautiful art when they look west towards downtown.

So we get back to the hotel. By that point it was only 9:00 am, we didn't have to check out until 12:00, and my plane didn't leave until 4:30 pm. "So whaddya want to do now?" Patrick enquired.

"I dunno -- whaddya you want to do?" I replied.

"Wanna go drive through Hegewisch?"

"Yeah, why not."

So we spent late morning/early afternoon getting a serious blast from the past as we wandering the wilds of the East Side and Hegewisch, with a short jaunt out to River Oaks so that I could get jeans and a pair of dress shoes (as well as this luscious little Liz Claiborne bracelet that looks barbarically elegant). And allow me to say that man, Chicago got hammered by snow -- the drifts in Hegewisch alone were between four and five feet high. I'm just grateful I was in Stockholm.

After that, though, I was getting tired and it made sense just to head up to the airport and check my bags. I kissed the boy goodbye and headed in to wait for my flight (which very nice, with a bag of food goodies that I saved and ate later on at the apartment).

And then I was in Texas. First impression -- warm. Second impression -- the people drive like fucking maniacs. Third impression -- lots of seriously devout Christians down here.

But the apartment is nice (and flipping huge -- pictures tomorrow, I promise). And with any luck I'll have my Texas license and car by Wednesday.

Yee ha, y'all.

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