Jul. 2nd, 2012 11:30 am
Bullets dodged
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muckefuckThe first leg of our gonzo family vacation took place on the Jersey Shore, half an hour's drive from Atlantic City. I can't tell from the resort's webpage if they still have power after the weekend's derecho, but Atlantic County was apparently rather hard hit ("Worse than Irene" according to a local source) and there's a 9 pm curfew in effect. Really puts the downpours we had to drive through to get to Boston into perspective.
As mentioned before, I was sick my last two days in Boston. I checked into the Milner Hotel on Tuesday night and almost literally collapsed onto the bed. Fortunately, I was feeling rather better by the time I had to head off to Logan the following evening, but I still took a sick day on Thursday. Then, just when I'd found my feet again, I came down with a mild case of food poisoning in the wee hours of Saturday morning. Between the loss of sleep and dehydration I was woozy well into the next day and for a while it was touch-and-go whether I'd be joining![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monshu at the Gold Coast Art Fair in Grant Park.
As annoying as it was being laid up on Saturday, all I could think about was what an immense comfort it was that this was happening at home and not on the road. There was a moment, lying on a hard twin bed in my tiny dreary hotel room, when I began sobbing, I wanted to be home so much. Some people in this world are natural travellers; me, not so much. I am a soft boy addicted to my comforts.
Up on Miss Cleveland's balcony yesterday evening I was singing the praises of Chicago, telling everyone how I'd made a point of descending at Roosevelt to catch a cab north so I could have the pleasure of viewing the skyline from across Grant Park. It may not be my hometown, but it is home.
As mentioned before, I was sick my last two days in Boston. I checked into the Milner Hotel on Tuesday night and almost literally collapsed onto the bed. Fortunately, I was feeling rather better by the time I had to head off to Logan the following evening, but I still took a sick day on Thursday. Then, just when I'd found my feet again, I came down with a mild case of food poisoning in the wee hours of Saturday morning. Between the loss of sleep and dehydration I was woozy well into the next day and for a while it was touch-and-go whether I'd be joining
monshu at the Gold Coast Art Fair in Grant Park.As annoying as it was being laid up on Saturday, all I could think about was what an immense comfort it was that this was happening at home and not on the road. There was a moment, lying on a hard twin bed in my tiny dreary hotel room, when I began sobbing, I wanted to be home so much. Some people in this world are natural travellers; me, not so much. I am a soft boy addicted to my comforts.
Up on Miss Cleveland's balcony yesterday evening I was singing the praises of Chicago, telling everyone how I'd made a point of descending at Roosevelt to catch a cab north so I could have the pleasure of viewing the skyline from across Grant Park. It may not be my hometown, but it is home.
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