All we wanted to do was sit down for a minute. I mean, it's not like I enjoy the war. Obviously. Obviously, I don't.
And Barack, right?
[waiting for response]
Ok, fine. I left that purposefully open-ended so you would tell me whether he was a totally inspirational speaker, plus did you see that amazing tie; or he didn't even show up, that Ass.
We woke up, bundled up and rode the El all the way to an outlying suburb so that we could take the El back, un-bundle, shop, and trade in our sign for an Us Weekly. What?! It's important hotel-reading material.
When two of our three alarms mis-fired the next morning (Daylight savings time? Really? Phone, you are supposed to know these things. Do not ask for input), I set my sweatshirt over a lamp to diffuse the harsh glare.
I packed quickly. My stomach had finally calmed down from the deep dish and brownies and I was...Yum, what is that marshmallow-y smell?
Dammit. What is my favorite sweatshirt doing making a marshmallow-y smell?
Muffin and I just want to thank our sponsors (SL, TG, the City of Chicago and 60-watt bulbs) for making this trip possible.
We're home, Minneapolis. Where is your bean?
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