Ho-tel, Mo-tel, Holiday Inn....

Hotel living suits me. As I write this, I just showered with expensive toiletries at hand (Crabtree & Evelyn), my clothes are hung up and ironed in my closet, I'm drnking a cup of fershly brewed tea and getting ready to go to bed at 10:30 pm.

Looks like Chicago has aged me into my forties and it agrees with me, I look fab.

On the other hand, I almost slipped when I got into the shower and I realized that if I fell and died, no one would find me until Tuesday when I'm supposed to check out. Whoever found me would see all of my naked lady parts. Even in death I'm still modest.

So I got out and rested my cell phone on the floor next to the tub just in case.

Being single sometimes blows. But at least I smell like delicious Crabtree & Evelyn products (although I've never seen anyone under the age of 40 shop there...shit!).

More on my Chi-town trip when I return. And no, I did not get to hang with the former crush and put an end to my lust. Figure I wouldn't keep leading you on there. Unlike some people I know.

RIP: Spanish's Gallbladder

She's alive. Uncomfortable but alive. On Saturday I brought Homer lunch because he had been taking such good care of her. Then he left to get some air and run some errands, and I stayed with a percocet-glazed Spanish until her mom and grandma came to do what else...speak in Spanish to her.

I also babysat the niecey this weekend and ate dinner with my 70 year old neighbors. When I realized that I was living the life of an aged person I put the call in to DM & Co. to be rescued. Thanks guys, I was a minute away from dentures, an early bird special, and listening to Wilford Brimley's 'betus speeches.