This is the story with the fantastic lies

Well, Chicago was fun. I got there before everyone else, dragged my suitcase aboard the excellent transit system, dropped my stuff off at the hotel, and walked all over downtown. I must have walked for at least three hours before I collapsed on the bed in the spartan, non-descript, cheap, and very close to everything hotel room. If you're working with a budget, this is the place for you. They did double-charge us, but they put the money back in about two days after.

We got to check out the Taste of Chicago, which is an annual food festival where they get together tons of restaurants and have them put up booths in Grant Park. People purchase 11 tickets for $7 and redeem various food items ranging from watermelon ice (2 tickets for a "Taste portion") to ribs.

We saw (and were thirty minutes late for) Cirque Shanghai and caught the pre-fourth of July fireworks at the Navy Pier.

One afternoon we danced ourselves silly at the Chicago Summer Dance. We walked miles and miles to see the giant drop of mercury at the Millennium Park. Oh, and we also found ourselves in the middle of a decrepit neighborhood looking for reggae. Don't ask. On our last night, we drank $3 margaritas at Chili's. Not bad at all.
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Last week I saw The Road to Guantanamo at the Angelika. It's certainly thought-provoking and more than a little disturbing. It's a docu-drama about four friends who travel to Pakistan for a wedding only to find themselves prisoners of war. It makes you wonder about all the other horrible mistakes made in this war.
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Last night at the Cheesecake Factory I had the Pasta Da Vinci, which was delicious but did not have enough mushrooms. The clam chowder was rich and filling, almost a meal in itself. We had buffalo wings, crab wontons and calamari for appetizers. The buffalo wings were very spicy and very good. For dessert, two mouthfuls of pineapple upside down cheesecake, which was just a bit too sweet.
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I think I want to take up tennis. I played for the first time today (with a wall) and liked it very much so that I might want to buy a racket and actually make time for it on the week-ends. It's very good for releasing aggression, methinks.
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Yehey! I got my learner's permit in the mail today. When I went to get it at the DMV, I was a nervous wreck because when it was my turn at the counter I couldn't find my greencard. The clerk at the desk started yelling at me and I got more and more flustered but I just tried to console myself with the thought that this is probably the only chance she gets to exercise power, barking orders behind a desk at the DMV. Finally she told me to look for it slowly and carefully and I found it in my purse in between the pages of my driver's manual. I was so not in the mood (not that I was in the mood in the first place) that I told her to just use my photo in the database, which dates back to 2001, the one where I look like a rhesus monkey. But then I only got one item wrong on the written test and it was a question about blood alcohol content and the lady at the counter was very nice and very impressed, so all's well that ends well. (This does not in any way mean I will be a good driver; it only means I studied the manual religiously because I can not turn 26 and still not know how to drive).