in progress

When I called for a taxi this morning, I was mostly ready to go, but was pulling stuff together and thinking it would be 10 minutes before it arrived. Three minutes after I called the taxi arrived, leaving me scrambling.

I didn't have breakfast before I left, deciding instead to take a bento of oatmeal and strawberries and grapes to eat on the plane. Apparently this is not allowed. I went through customs in Vancouver and wound up having to dump my breakfast as soon as I got to customs. I wasn't allowed to go back and eat it; I wasn't allowed to go onward with it. They sent me to the secondary screening area where they pointed me towards a large garbage can with hazard tape around it and told me it had to go in. No sneaking pieces. Crap.

My stomach was grumbling by the time I got to the gate (security took 30 minutes, and that was with me being prepared and sorted and with everything out. The line was HUGE) and opted for a sandwich to prevent any weird stomach stuff on the plane. I got smushed into a middle seat, so checked at the gate if I could switch seats if a window or aisle came up; the attendant thought it would be a full flight so it looked like I'd be stuck. As they were boarding I was called up to the front and given a new boarding pass: a window seat. Good news, indeed.

I noted the person I would have sat beside was the attractive man I noticed in the waiting area. What if that was fate, that he was someone I was supposed to sit beside on the plane and have awkward conversation with while trying not to encroach on his armrest? I will never know. Suppose the fates gave me the window seat for a better reason.

The flight was uneventful, other than being 40 minutes late taking off: computer problems. My favourite part of all flights is flying through the clouds. I love the bumpiness of it, the white blindness that suddenly clears and the ground comes into view. I love flying into Chicago because of the grid-iness of it; literally, it looks like a patchwork quilt. Flying in over Lake Michigan, the Loop on the left, is something burned in my mind.

My hotel is pretty neat. When I turned on the light to my room I was a bit concerned because it looked small and dark. I knew it wasn't on the lakeside, which was disappointing, but I was interested to see my view despite this. Opening the windows I saw the El, the Washington Library (where I am now), 311 Wacker, the Sears Tower (though recently renamed something involving Willis; it had been suggested on a Chicago photography blog I view that they could, perhaps, nickname it "Big Willy")... I'm pleased.

Tonight my plans are thwarted: "Valentino: the last emperor" is no longer showing at the Landmark (only in Highland Park, and while I'd like to go there I think it might not be worth the hour there and hour back just for a 90 minute movie) and I'm not sure what to do. Will consult my list and perhaps walk around in the rain. Even with wet feet, I love it here.