The details. Like, ALL of them.

Dude! I have been so busy today and I have been dying to write something about my experiences in Chicago. Now that I'm home, I finally have a chance to sit down and really think through it. Here's what happened:

So first of all, I have to say that taking my suitcase and laptop on the bus was a fairly obnoxious experience, though not so bad that it would stop me from doing it again. Some part of me enjoys that feeling of self-sufficiency, of not needing a car to get anywhere. Anyway, I went to work early so I could get paid for an entire half day and retain some of my dwindling PTO. I was fairly productive, but my mind was definitely already somewhere else. At 11:30 I left the office with my suitcase and got on the MAX to the airport.

Airport security was an experience because there are certain things you have to take out of bags and put in their own bin and I apparently had all of them. I needed a bin for my laptop, my coat and scarf, my CPAP, and my shoes and zip-top bag of toiletries. Then on the other side of the scanner, I had to hurriedly put everything back where it goes and get out of the way while the people behind me were waiting. I hate this part. I got through it pretty quickly though, and sat down at my gate to wait for boarding. My flight was already delayed, but only about fifteen minutes.

I flew Southwest, which has a very specific policy about "passengers of size" and how they should buy two plane tickets when they fly. When this policy first went into effect, there was a pretty strong backlash from the fat acceptance community because apparently officially the plane ticket you buy is just supposed to guarantee they will get you from point a to point b, not a specific seating space. And really, sure, the airlines should accommodate more body sizes with their seats and everyone should be able to just buy the one ticket and get where they need to go. But the way things are right now, there is just no way I would ever be comfortable pressed up next to someone else and I'm sure they wouldn't enjoy being pressed up against me (or would they? yowza! ;) So I always buy two seats when I fly because I like to know I am going to have enough space to be comfortable. What I LIKE about Southwest's policy is that if the flight you buy your two seats on ends up not being full, they will refund the money you paid for the extra ticket. That doesn't happen on other airlines at all. Also, they let you preboard which turns out to be a greater advantage than I even realized when I was buying my tickets because Southwest doesn't have assigned seating. You get to sit anywhere you like once you get on the plane. So for both flights I was able to be one of the first people on and pick the seats way up front with the ridiculous amount of extra legroom. It was awesome. Also, as watchers of The Amazing Race will know, it's important to sit as close as possible to the front of the plane so you can get off first.

My flight out was good. I did end up bringing my MP3 player and some magazines, so I had something to do if I wanted it. Most of the flight I just listened to music and let my mind wander, and I found myself feeling very glad that the flight was so long and I could just relax. My seatmates for the flight were a young mother and her baby. He was very sweet and she was kind of awesome too because she just let him be a baby. She wasn't paranoid about him annoying the other passengers or being too loud so when he made a loud noise or two, she just took it in stride and continued to interact with him. That was the other thing. I have seen parents with babies in public where you can tell they just want more than anything to not have to deal with this baby right now. And I understand that, because it's probably pretty damn exhausting to travel with a baby, which is why I thought it was so cool the way this mom was totally positive and kept interacting with hers. Anyway, I hope if I ever have babies that I will be able to find that much patience and energy to stay positive in a stressful situation like that.

Once at the Chicago Midway airport, I followed the signs to the train (easily about a mile and a half from the gate, or maybe it just seemed like it). I hadn't gotten any cash which was a mistake I won't make again because they don't take credit or debit cards in their ticket machines. The way transit in Chicago works is that you buy a transit card and then you can load more money onto it and keep using it until it expires. Luckily there was an ATM near the ticket machines so I got a twenty out and bought my card. I didn't even think about the fact that I was basically putting the whole twenty on the card and there was no way I would be able to use that much transit while I was there, but oh well, live and learn. So I took my $20 card and went through the turnstile and down to the train (aww...turnstiles...it's like being back in Atlanta again!). I ride public transit all the time, and I was kind of expecting the Chicago trains to be like the MAX. They are not. I mean, they're trains, they get you where you want to go, but that's about where the similarities end. Chicago trains are dirty, they have some pimpin' seventies upholstery and fake wood grain paneling, the doors open for about .02 seconds at each stop, so you'd better be ready to get on or off in a hurry, and finally, everybody on the train seemed to be perpetually grumpy. Oh also, the Chicago train system is COMPLICATED. You can see a map of the system here, so you know what I'm talking about.

But anyway, I had figured out where I needed to go with the help of the CTA trip planner (oh so handy!), so my train ride went pretty much as planned. The only thing I wasn't anticipating was the panicky feeling of "what the hell am I doing in Chicago?" that kind of came out of nowhere. It eventually passed though, and I bolted off the train when I finally got to my stop, lest I get caught in the swiftly-closing doors. Once I was down at street level, I took a quick self-portrait and started walking towards the Travelodge where I was staying. Looking up at the El tracks and especially hearing a train roaring overhead as I walked under them was an awe-inspiring experience. Chicago felt very very big to me at that moment. Overwhelming.

It was only about three or four blocks to the hotel, so I hoofed it, got my room key, called to let my loved ones know I was okay, then set out in search of dinner. I didn't have to go very far because there was a pretty decent looking Thai restaurant on the corner. I brought a magazine to read since I now know the pitfalls of eating in a restaurant alone. I managed to get there only five minutes before the kitchen closed, so I ordered the chicken satay (my favorite) and massaman curry. I tried to relax and enjoy my dinner and I was fairly successful for a while, but eventually I noticed the waitstaff was starting to give the stink eye to those of us who were left in the dining room. I was about done anyway, so I finished up and beat it back to my hotel room.

I stayed up a little while checking my email and waiting for my roommate to arrive (I was splitting the room with another COFRA member that I had never met), but I knew I had to get up pretty early so around eleven I put everything away and went to sleep. Saturday morning I woke up bright and early as planned and got ready to go to the think tank. My roommate hadn't shown up during the night, but I knew she was likely staying with a friend in town, so I wasn't too worried. I was, however, feeling some significant social anxiety about walking into a roomful of strangers. I took a few moments in the hotel room to take some deep breaths and psych myself up, then I set out to walk the few blocks to the Harold Washington Public Library, where the think tank was being held. I was positively dazzled by the library. It was enormous and beautiful and well-thought-out and just incredible. There were fountains, people. That's all I'm saying. Fountains. In the library. Awesome.

So I eventually found the room we were meeting in, took a deep breath, walked in, and introduced myself. The first person I met was Paul McAleer, the brains behind the think tank operation, writer of BigFatBlog.com, and personal hero of mine. Ten years ago, when I was first starting to think about the idea of fat acceptance, I did a search and came up with a page he had on his personal website called The Fat Acceptance Resource where he had put the results of a research project he had done on fat and discrimination in college. This was the first time it dawned on me that other people thought the way I did, that my size didn't have to determine my worth and that I deserved the same rights as everyone else. I read his personal blog for a long time after that, and, as you do with celebrities (even bloggers), I always felt like he and I would be super friends if we ever got to hang out. So anyway, I was finally meeting him, and that was fantastic. I met his wife Jeani and everyone else as they arrived (all fabulous people), and eventually we got down to business. Paul had been expecting about 19 people but we ended up with 10 which turned out to be a much better size for the planning we were going to do, so that worked out well.

I can't even remember right now everything that we talked about (I have notes somewhere), but one thing I'm excited about was that I had been turning over an idea in my head for a few weeks and I brought it up in the meeting and they all loved it and we're going to put it into action. So yay! I helped :) I'll write more about the specifics of that when it's up and running.

After the think tank, I was just exhausted so I went back to my room and took a lovely nap. We all got together that night for dinner at The Parthenon, a restaurant in the middle of Chicago's Greektown, which I didn't even know existed until my trip. Oh, I should mention that my roommate showed up in the room a little before dinner, so she came along (she had missed the think tank earlier in the day). We cabbed it over to Greektown, which is one of my least favorite methods of city travel, but the ride was uneventful and got us there pretty quickly, so I suppose I can't complain. The Parthenon was CROWDED. I mean just incredibly crowded. Paul had made a reservation for all of us, so a few minutes after he got there, we were seated at our table. When the waiter took our drink orders, I ordered an Ouzo Sunrise which I was expecting to be somewhat like a Harvey Wallbanger but it really was just like some Ouzo in orange juice with grenadine at the bottom. Didn't bother me though...I ended up having two of them ;)

The Parthenon is apparently known for Saganaki, which is basically a block of Greek cheese covered in brandy and lit on fire (I know, right?). When the waiter lights the Saganaki, everyone in the place is supposed to yell OPA! so it is very festive. The service was slooow but it gave me an opportunity to talk to some of my fellow COFRA folks, so I didn't mind too much. I ordered the pastitsio which was basically beefaroni baked with bechamel sauce. It was awesome, and well worth the wait. After dinner, my roommate and I said our goodbyes to everyone and took a cab back to the hotel. I spent some time on my computer, uploading that day's photos and checking my email, but again I knew I had to get up early, so I made myself go to bed. It was very strange to try to sleep next to a virtual stranger, but eventually my exhaustion won out and I drifted off to sleep.

My alarm went off at 6 AM and I dragged myself out of bed to finish packing and get myself out the door. My flight was leaving at 9:15 so I was aiming to get to the airport by 7:15. I had lost my $18 transit card but my roommate had given me a five dollar bill to use to pay my way on the train back to the airport, so I was all set. At some point on the walk to the train station, I realized that I didn't know what I had done with the five. I kept my cool, assuming I would find another ATM at the train station and I would just buy another $20 transit card. Of course I get my suitcases all the way up there and no, there is no ATM. There is no way to buy a transit card with a credit or debit card either (I asked a transit professional at the station), so I was basically screwed. Luckily, the transit worker I talked to pointed me vaguely in the direction of a 7 Eleven a few blocks away that might have an ATM. She hadn't really said where it was, so I just picked a direction and started walking. I totally passed it the first time but when I turned around, there it was, gleaming like the answer to all of my prayers. So I got a twenty out of the ATM, trekked back to the train station, bought my transit card, maneuvered my suitcases up to the train platform and finally sat, exhausted and ready to just be home already.

My trip back was fairly uneventful, though on the flight we were blessed/cursed with one of those flight attendants who believes himself to be very funny and charming and makes funny funny jokes over the speaker system and plays the trivia game with the passengers. Super. He didn't exactly bother me so much as he mildly activated my disdain. I was pretty much a grumpy ass by then anyway.

T picked me up at the airport, which was awesome. We had planned to go out to brunch but at that point I felt really tired and covered in plane ick, so she just took me home. I'm totally glad I went, as it felt like we really got some COFRA details hammered out, but it was such a short trip that I felt like I didn't really have a moment to see the city or just relax. They are having another think tank in June which I will probably go to, so maybe I'll plan a longer visit next time. I had fun though, and I had a lot of time on the plane to think about some things that have been bothering me lately and make some decisions, so that was a good thing. Also I now feel a teeny bit more like I can handle what life throws at me, which was one of my goals for going in the first place. Next time I plan a trip by myself I think I'll go somewhere more exotic though. Maybe Paris.