Chicago was so fun. But I am very sad about the whole flying part. On Friday it was perfect and effortless: I left for LaGuardia an hour before my flight, had no bags to check, did the self check-in in two seconds, breezed through security, had plenty of time left over, then had a totally pleasant flight on which I finished the book I was reading (Monique and the Mango Rains, which I will write about later and which left me in tears) and scribbled a bunch of notes for my noir, and there was even an empty seat next to me so it almost felt LUXURIOUS, and then we landed in Chicago, no problem, and I called my friend Massie's brother Josh, who was hosting me, and he told me how to come meet him by train, and it was all effortless, and I spent the train ride writing and also reading another book, and then I met Josh and we spent the afternoon--Josh, his visiting friend Frank, and I--having a lovely lunch and hanging out, and it was awesome.

Then yesterday, coming home, I got to the airport fine, but then in the security line they were much more diligent and I had forgotten plastic baggies and the guy roooodly confiscated my black glitter nailpolish, even when I told him I might cry, and he also tried to confiscate a bottle of GLITTER until I ingeniously and scientifically pointed out that glitter is not a liquid and even demonstrated this by dumping some on my palm. We also had a long discussion about mascara, when I argued that it is "not really" a liquid. He asked if it was really, or if was not. I said "I don't think so." He said "Do you think it's not a liquid or do you know it's not" and I said, "I'm pretty sure it's not" and he said "Are you pretty sure or do you know it's not a liquid?" and finally, in a therapeutic breakthrough kind of self asserting, world asserting moment I said, "IT IS NOT A LIQUID." And then he handed it back to me. But then I almost missed my flight because I didn't hear them boarding, but then it turned out that a connecting flight was delayed and so we had to sit on the runway for an hour waiting for it anyway, and then I sat next to a woman who shifted and sighed the whole time, and then, on the descent into New York, my ears suddenly KILLED ME, just this horrible intense pain that I used to get when planes landed but thought I had gotten over, since it hasn't happened in a few years, but it was just this intense whining pain that got worse and worse and then all last night I felt sick and this morning I feel sick, too, like I have a bona fide ear infection, which I'm sure I don't but it is awfully unpleasant and leaves my jet setting prowess in question.

Anyway, the reading at Women and Children First was very fun. Just beforehand, as we were driving out of Trader Joe's where we had bought wine and snacks for later, I had discovered that Frank (Josh's German friend who happened to be visiting) plays the didgeridoo, and I asked if he had it with him and he didn't but Josh had one, so we decided to stop off and get it so that Frank could play it at my reading, and he did and even though it did not go AT ALL with my un-didgeridoo-ish tale, it was still amazing, and I believe in things clashing anyway, and afterwards a group of us went out for drinks. Later I went back with Josh and Frank and watched the first hour of BATTLESTAR GALACTICA before I fell asleep. I really liked the opening "Are you alive? Prove it." but then I pretty much faded afterwards, to my great sadness. Yesterday morning we had breakfast at this adorable place where a small woman in a sari served me chai tea and tomato bisque with cashews and thick slices of bread with goat cheese and pesto, and then they dropped me off at the train which whisked me off to my doom.

But soon I will recover, bravely, and get ready for many guests who are coming to watch the OSCARS. The end.