I am frolicking naked and single here in the Big City after another night of drinking my weight in $20 margaritas, dancing on tables with drugged-up celebrities, taking body shots off of handsome foreign hunks and waking up with the strange sensation that I forgot something.
Alright, so I am actually fully clothed and frolickless after another night of Strategy class, dinner with similarly exhausted classmates and a single beer that did something icky to my stomach before sending me straight off to sleep with two grouchy cats tangled in my hair. Although I did wake up with the strange sensation that I forgot something (namely, that I neglected to run the dishwasher last night. Oh, the horror). That's what we call living on the edge, OSOH style.
Ben is stuck. Trapped in Chicago. If he peers out of his hotel window, he sees this:
...which looks like all kinds of cold to me. He's supposed to fly directly from his blizzard into our rain and sleet mix sometime this afternoon. Anyone up for placing bets as to whether or not airsick bags earn their keep today? He should be in for some thrilling turbulence.