Blowing Through The Windy City
Those of you who can’t go more than a day without checking Fluid Imagination — which is to say, about a dozen of you — may have noticed things are a little slow this week. That’s because Dawn and I are in Chicago, doing the whirlwind tour of visiting friends and family.
I’m spending today, tomorrow, and next Tuesday working out of a Starbucks near Dawn’s mom’s house, so there may be a post or two, but there probably won’t be much.
Then again, it’s Memorial Day weekend, so I don’t expect you’ll be checking often enough to care.
Our plans are pretty chill for the week. We got in yesterday morning, hung out for the afternoon, did dinner with her mom, her mom’s fiance, and her lil’ sis, then went back to lil’ sis’s new apartment to check it out and have a few beers.
Tonight, we’re having a little get-together at a wine bar in Roscoe Village. I think there’s gonna be like ten of us there. We haven’t seen most of the folks in at least a year, and there’s gonna be one or two people who I’ve never met and who Dawn hasn’t seen since she moved to Vermont lo those many years ago.
Tomorrow after work, we head down to South Bumfuck to spend the night at her other sister’s place, which is always a good time. Her and her husband have a well-stocked bar in their basement, a foosball table, and most importantly, “bags,” which I’ve been told is also known as “cornhole.” It’s basically horseshoes with bean bags, and instead of striving for a ringer, you’re trying to get it in a hole that’s cut into an angled piece of wood. VERY good times.
Plus, we just like hanging with them.
Then Saturday, we drive over to Dawn’s dad’s lake-house in Indiana, where I expect we’ll spend most of the day drinking beers and cocktails while cruising around on his new pontoon boat. This’ll be nice, not only because, I mean, c’mon, cocktails on the lake, but also because this weekend is the weekend when the Boston contingent of our family opens the lake house in Maine, and while I won’t miss having to climb into freezing-ass water to set up the dock and the float, I would have missed the fun of spending time with family at the lake. But now that we’re going to Indiana, I won’t have to.
I will miss hearing the ridiculous arguments that inevitably occur between all those stubborn Callahans and Attridges, however.
Well, maybe “miss” isn’t the right word.
On Sunday, we’re coming back to Chicago to do a belated Mother’s Day celebration with Dawn’s mom, then Monday, I think we’re hanging with our friends Sean and Christine. I’m hoping to talk them into going to some sort of museum, since I’ve been to this city a half-dozen times now, and I’ve yet to visit a single fucking museum.
Yeah, I’m talking to you, Dawn.
On Tuesday, I’ll be back working from a Starbucks in Roscoe Village, and then on Wednesday, we jump back on a plane, fly to Boston, probably do lunch with my folks and my niece, then get in the car for the three and half hour drive back to Vermont.
Where, on Thursday, I begin kicking Chapter Eight’s ass.
Maybe I’ll post again tomorrow, but if not, have yourself a fantastic Memorial Day weekend. Get yourself drunk and get yourself laid.
Not necessarily in that order.