Urban dwelling
Aug. 4th, 2010 07:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Have gotten into Chicago safely and blown off some time wandering around the streets near my hotel, which is situated in the big ol' shopping district known as the Magnificent Mile. It's nice to be out and about in a city that has such nice flavor to it - it's a good place to feel some different energies.
The hotel itself (The Inn of Chicago) is trying hard to be a boutique hotel (and I think bills itself as such) but while the lobby is appropriately trying too hard, with uncomfortable but stylish seating and a lobby bar that's busy blasting out really, really bad house music, the rooms are pretty pedestrian. Not bad, just nothing at all special, and just a trifle on the shabby side. I am on the 18th floor, and waiting for an elevator is a group sporting activity, I have discovered.
My bustling about was pretty much all window-shopping. I resisted buying everybody in the office a Hello Kitty pencil at the Sanrio store, buying myself a tub of Legos, buying a cute but pricey cardigan at the Gap, and buying a new pair of Croc flip flops. I may go back and get those flip flops, actually - they're more durable, contoured, and comfortable than the average one. I did hit up the Trader Joe's and now have a giant sack of stuff to bring home. Some of it was devoured for dinner (pretzel bread, yum) but most of it will be toted back.
I'm tired, and anxious about Bemo, who is anxious about his new job. Both of us are trying not to wallow in that anxiety, because it won't help anything, but he feels the pressure of Not Fucking Up And Getting Fired - just like that, with capital letters, and all the weight of his current lack of confidence on his shoulders. He's also under some stress with me being out of town, which thankfully is only for a couple of days. My bringing him back his favorite Trader Joe's meringues aren't going to magically solve all our problems.
Eee, this took a light speed left turn for the depressing. Probably proof that I should get upstairs, get a hot shower, and spend the rest of the evening lolling on the bed watching the crappiest television I can get my hands on.
The hotel itself (The Inn of Chicago) is trying hard to be a boutique hotel (and I think bills itself as such) but while the lobby is appropriately trying too hard, with uncomfortable but stylish seating and a lobby bar that's busy blasting out really, really bad house music, the rooms are pretty pedestrian. Not bad, just nothing at all special, and just a trifle on the shabby side. I am on the 18th floor, and waiting for an elevator is a group sporting activity, I have discovered.
My bustling about was pretty much all window-shopping. I resisted buying everybody in the office a Hello Kitty pencil at the Sanrio store, buying myself a tub of Legos, buying a cute but pricey cardigan at the Gap, and buying a new pair of Croc flip flops. I may go back and get those flip flops, actually - they're more durable, contoured, and comfortable than the average one. I did hit up the Trader Joe's and now have a giant sack of stuff to bring home. Some of it was devoured for dinner (pretzel bread, yum) but most of it will be toted back.
I'm tired, and anxious about Bemo, who is anxious about his new job. Both of us are trying not to wallow in that anxiety, because it won't help anything, but he feels the pressure of Not Fucking Up And Getting Fired - just like that, with capital letters, and all the weight of his current lack of confidence on his shoulders. He's also under some stress with me being out of town, which thankfully is only for a couple of days. My bringing him back his favorite Trader Joe's meringues aren't going to magically solve all our problems.
Eee, this took a light speed left turn for the depressing. Probably proof that I should get upstairs, get a hot shower, and spend the rest of the evening lolling on the bed watching the crappiest television I can get my hands on.