Hello Robin, Hello Faddah

If a bird can have bed head, this little guy had it in spades. Feathers were sticking straight out on both sides. He bounced around on the grass behind his mom as she picked up bugs and stray seeds. She kept trying to ignore him but he was insistent, staying right on her tail and …
…read more.

Chicago/BlogHer 07 Wrap

Or, Best Blind Dates Ever.

It’s one thing to go in with an agenda, another entirely to stick to it. I was happy to let go of mine, after all, it wasn’t a very clear one to begin with. Letting it all go meant I had time for some off-the-grid activities. They weren’t entirely out of scope – the people I spent time with were bloggers that I’d not met before in 3-D.

What’s better than when your blind date for dinner shows up in the lobby of the hotel carrying a Fish Wednesday ID Badge? Not much, unless you count getting to tag along with that blogger and her groom to be to an old school Italian restaurant. We chowed down on giant plates of pasta at Volare, at the best table in this busy place. Sinatra played over the sound system at the bar. It was great to hang out with Chicago locals and hear about life in the windy city. N, who prefers to blog anonymously, writes Kinetic Loop, a blog about Chicago with lots of interesting links to stories about – um, killer bunnies and photography. I don’t read her enough – the blog is funny and snarky and smart and the links are really interesting. There was much talk about how to avoid the bridal industrial complex, life without cars, what to do in Chicago, blogging, photography, and lots of other stuff. Good company and a fine feed at a place I’d probably not have found on my own. Good luck, you two, and don’t get suckered into registering for crap you don’t need or buying a 4000 dollar dress that you’re only going to wear once in your life. You won’t, I know it.

…read more.Chicago/BlogHer 07 Wrap

I Am the Passenger

When I wandered back from the loo, he was folding himself into the center seat. I was bummed because I was hoping it would stay empty, of course. The guy was a thin, sandy haired guy in a pilot’s uniform, stripes on his shoulders and we were delayed. A lot. The kid in the window seat, a nice looking hipster with a newer digital camera, snapped pictures out the window while we sat on the runway. As we rolled back to the terminal and again, back out on the runway, we started to talk.

…read more.I Am the Passenger