Today I am in Chicago. I have been to Chicago several times in my life. In 2003 I ran my second marathon here. That’s where I met my friend Penney, a funny story I will write about in a different post. I returned in 2005 for a weekend away with my friend Cathy, meeting up with both Penney and my college friend Christine). In 2008 I came back for Penney’s wedding and in 2009 I ran a ½ marathon out here as part of my insane quest to get all the medals in the Rock n Roll series. So when I got off the plane today it felt like I was coming home. I knew my way around the airport, I knew which train to take to get to my hotel and I knew what to expect from the cold and the wind. And Chicago doesn’t disappoint.
I don’t know if it’s my frequent trips or if it’s my personality. I don’t know if it’s my life experience or just having gypsy blood. But every time I land in a city I immediately feel like I live there. I am comfortable. I can feel my way through the streets and take on the energy of the city. I truly feel like I’m home the moment I get off the plane, half expecting to head to my apartment. I felt this way through every leg of my Greece trip, even when we were only in cities for a night. I am at ease traveling and I enjoy it so much. I feel like I belong everywhere and am exactly where I should be. This trip to Chicago feels the same way.
I take the train into the city from Midway. I am thankful for my strong legs to bring me up and down the stairways (reminiscent of my days in NYC) and my strong arms to carry my suitcase. I exit at Chicago off the Red Line and head up into the streets and get my bearings. The city is gorgeous. It is blanketed in snow, white and pure and soft. A huge smile breaks across my face as I pull my cap down over my ears and start in the direction of my hotel. I love an adventure! I pass the historic water tower and before I turn left towards my hotel I look to the right, down Michigan Ave. It is too cold, and I am carrying too much luggage, to stop and window shop but I see Victoria’s Secret, Bloomingdales, Macy’s, H&M and so many wonderful high-end stores I feel compelled to enter. I don’t, though, knowing my bank account is barely handling this trip, let alone a pop in to Tiffany’s. I console myself with the idea of a warm bed at the end of my walk and I start dragging my suitcase to my hotel.
I am staying at the Hilton Suites, which is right next door to the Hancock Tower. I got the hotel through Priceline and I am so glad I did. The association I am auditioning through have a block of rooms at the hotel where the auditions are being held. I called a few months ago and booked a room, at the startling rate of $129. Which I know is not expensive for downtown Chicago. But I am in Chicago for four nights and it kind of hurt to think about paying over $600 just for the room. I put in a priceline bid for $50 at a 3.5 star in the same area and I got it. Whew! So the Hilton it is!
I check in, give them my Hilton Honors VIP number (here I come free night!) and head up to my room. It is so big! A one bedroom suite with a fridge and a microwave. A bath tub (not common in big city baths because of space), a desk for me to work on and a living room, complete with couch and television. But my favorite part? The king-sized bed with seven pillows and a view of Lake Michigan. I am in heaven.
Saturday is my “down time” day. I have nothing but time, so I set out unpacking and going through my ritual. I didn’t realize I had a ritual until I went to Greece and found that I did the same things in the same order every time I got to a new room. I stay in a LOT of hotels in my life. I love them more than I love my own apartment, and I definitely have a way I do things.
I walk around and see what there is, taking stock of what is around and what I’ll be using. I’m pleased to see a little vanity where I can get ready in the morning. It is just a cute little addition to the room and makes me smile. I pull the suitcase rack out of the closet and set it up in the living room. I never unpack my clothes in a hotel. I’m not sure why. I will unpack everything else, including toiletries and paperwork and even my shoes get taken out and lined up next to the door, but the clothes always stay in the suitcase. I unpack all my papers and put them on the desk. I take my toiletries into the bathroom and put everything where it goes. Nothing in drawers (in case I accidentally leave them) but everything gets laid out to be used.
When I have unpacked to my liking, and called my mom to tell her I made it safely, I throw myself onto the bed. Literally throw. Flop down on the gorgeous white sheets and start pulling all the pillows to me. I have already pulled the extra blanket out of the closet and I turn the television on. Within minutes I am asleep, using my downtime to its fullest. There is nothing better for me, before I head into the craziness of grad school auditions, than the sweet sleep that immediately envelopes me.
Well, nothing better than a nap and the entire tube of Whole Grain Pringles I eat four hours later when I wake up.
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