Deb even woke me up on Thursday morning (10:30 a.m.) for sex. Yay!

The actual convention stuff was pretty tedious, but like the hall of scary German murals, there were some interesting side trips.

For one thing, I got to meet Gay Girl and Gay Girl's Girl. While I had intended to take them out to dinner, they couldn't get a babysitter, so it turned into a visit to their house and take-out Chinese with the kids. (Yeah, I know. Shut up. I don't think they've read that far back in my archives.) It was very good take-out, though, and probably the best meal I had while I was in Chicago. GG and GGG were great hostesses and even got me to a drug store. I'd started my period the day after I hit Chicago and only had the emergency one-day supply of feminine products (yes, the oragami pads), so it was great to be able to pick up some essentials.

Like toenail clippers. I got ready to fly out of Atlanta, all dressed and showered and ready to go, all systems normal, took off, flew, arrived safely, had nothing to do all afternoon, attended a welcoming party, but when I got back to my room that evening and removed my shoes and socks, I found that my toenails had grown about eight inches in twelve hours and I desperately needed some toenail clippers. I'd already had to call the front desk for a comb because I'd forgotten to pack one. I also needed bandaids, Mentos, and water. Because I talked more in six days than the whole rest of the year put together, I was horribly dried out. My lips started to chap the third day.

And I almost forgot to mention that the first two mornings I was there, the woman in the room next door to mine treated me to the sounds of the early-riser orgasm special. Oh, yeah. Generally just before the alarm went off. I'd be lying in bed, having woken up to the sound of airplanes zooming by just yards from my window, and I'd get to hear a reenactment of the big-O scene from "When Harry Met Sally". The second morning I heard a man grunting and the woman oh-ing, and then her saying, "That's okay" in a reassuring voice. Oops. Well, it was entertainment anyway.

I also visited a little display museum of Hummel figurines owned by the mayor of Rosemont. I'm sorry, but any guy who collects these things just has to be a pervert. And not in a good way.

I'm sorry if I offend any of you Precious Moments people, but you're freaks. Each and every one of you. There is no justification for this type of collection of Children of the Corn Porcelains.

What kind of sculptor thought this up? What are these geese doing to this little girl? If there was one goose, it would be way more normal looking. But one about to peck or poke or nuzzle each underdeveloped breast? This has to come from somebody who's not right in the head.

Again, lots of material for Stephen King here at the convention center. Let's take a closer look at the Ritalin Kid here. Does anyone find this comforting or cute or pretty?

He looks drugged out of his gourd to me. All 50 handcrafted, individually hand painted versions of him. I call him Lil Stupor Stumbler. Not actual size.

Back to real life. Deb and I did a bunch of shopping and hanging out together on Thursday. We tried to get a set of bedrails to replace our futon frame, but it's harder to get those things than we thought it would be. We started our shopping date with lunch at Rio Bravo, where I drank a watermelon margarita. That wasn't the best idea I'd ever had. I was soooo ready for a nap.

We had steaks for family dinner that night to welcome me home, and that rocked.

Yesterday was Sara's birthday, and I think we helped make it a pretty good one. We started off with presents and a bacon-day breakfast. After she got home from work, we had her birthday request dinner�mashed potatoes wrapped in a roll of prosciutto, cut into slices and fried. I baked a cake (all from scratch, including frosting) and Deb made chocolate ice cream with mini-M&Ms. Then we hung out in the usual fashion.

And speaking of the birthday girl, I've been wishing for some alone (not necessarily date) time to spend with Sara since I got back but haven't gotten the chance yet. With the way things are looking now, it may be Friday before we do, which would be more than two weeks. Ack. Feeling kind of sorry for myself. I'm just in one of those swings I think.