About ten days ago, I was flying into Chicago at dawn and took these pictures. I landed at 8:20 CST, at which point I had been awake for seven hours, and bought myself an airport Cinnabon. Tomorrow/today/in any case on Friday, B and I find ourselves hopping over the Mississippi for a long weekend there. Chicago, not the Cinnabon plant, although does such a vacation package exist and can I go next weekend?
I can’t wait for the Art Institute (after this visit, my membership will have more than paid for itself), a bunch of new restaurants (including Grahamwich, the downtown sandwich joint by Graham Elliot, which of course you all remember), two nights at the Hard Rock Hotel on Michigan Avenue, Anthropologie (who are we kidding?), and the lake-effect wind tunnels/ice shards to lacerate my face.
Okay, maybe not the last one.
But it’s okay, I’m gonna double up on tights.
See you Sunday night!