I went to Chicago. It was beautiful. The weather was warm, but not hot, clear, and gorgeous.
I had two goals:
1) Take public transportation
2) Eat at Ken's
Sadly, I accomplished neither of those things. I was on a business trip, so I either walked or took cabs (but one of my co-workers, who lived in Chi-town gave me the grand tour from the cab), and I ate a lot of salad, but no Ken's. Stupid co-workers who eat stupid treif.
At any rate, I did walk around a lot. I had a drink at the top of the Hancock building (95th floor) and saw all of Chicago laid out for me in lights. I drank some local beer (and non-local tequila) and heard a great deal about aforementioned co-worker's love life. I also spent a lot of time in hotels, in meetings, and in a business suit (which makes me look like an old lady). This, however, was not Chicago's fault.
I called CJ from my hotel room to let him know that I loved the city. His response: "That's nice. You can love it from New York." LAME.
Don't worry though, I am still gathering a group of friends who will all move to Chicago together in a few years. I actually have 10 people who've committed. We'll see how well it works out, seeing as I can't even get anyone to move to the East side.
Oh well. I can dream.