It's Only A Paper Rose

Surfacing briefly to say that I'm still alive and officially Moved In to the new place. For the actual week-long process of moving...let's just say that it's a good thing I love this place so much, because after two days of hauling stuff into a fourth-floor walkup, I would have probably thrown up my hands and walked away and become homeless otherwise. (And I'm pretty physically fit!) As it is, we hired movers for the second half and a cleaning service for the old place, and both were worth every penny. And we own this place, so we don't Ever Have To Do It Again if we don't want to. Thank God.

So far (all of a week in) there've been no major first-time homeowner issues, though there have been a couple of minor entertainments. The rehab was done in the 80s and the developer ran out of money halfway through the project, so it was finished by a different contractor hired by the bank to just Get It Done so they could sell the units...this explains why the bathrooms, dated as they are, are actually pretty high quality but the furnace and boiler installation could be generously described as "slapdash". The filter drawer for the furnace especially is in an awkward and unintuitive place; when we finally found it (which required taking down the intake grill and coming at it backward...and guess whose intake grill was screwed cockeyed into drywall with anchors that have already come out?), the filter was damn near *black*. I have a feeling the previous owners (who were here two years) never found it, heh. Hanging pictures has also been fun—it's a century-old building, none of the floors are level and so neither are the windows/doorways/cabinets/ceilings...so we're often having to split the visual difference between the line of the ceiling, the line of the nearest window, and what the level actually says is level, haha.

And now it's back to my usual crazy schedule...and somewhere in there I have to fit in the remainder of the unpacking, and getting invitations out for our housewarming party, and a bazillion address-change forms, and furniture-shopping...all of which is to say, if you don't hear from me for a while, I'm probably not dead. :)

Changing coasts is an odd experience. In some ways, it's almost like stepping into an alternate universe - one very close to your native one, but where there are all these small differences that keep you on your toes. Mostly it's quirks of product branding: instead of Best Foods, your mayonnaise says Hellman's. Instead of Oroweat, you have Brownberry bread. Dreyer's is now Edy's. Butter sticks are long and skinny instead of short and fat. That kind of thing. Nothing obtrusive, but just enough that you wonder if there are larger differences that you haven't noticed yet.

Tangentially related, I've been thinking a lot lately about this article on the "eleven nations" that this author asserts make up the United States - defining "nations" as "large regions that share similar core values and attitudes, often stemming from the cultural outlook of the original settlers". My knee-jerk reaction is to say it's an oversimplification, and it may well be, but having lived in five of the different regions that he defines (four of them for four years or longer), I must admit my anecdata does match with his observations. Anchorage and Fairbanks (Far West) do have a very strong streak of resentment towards corporate interests and outside colonization (somewhat entertainingly, since the majority of the caucasian population has been there less than a century). Juneau (Left Coast) is far more like the rest of the West Coast, which is absolutely an interesting mixture of "Go west young man" self-determinism and hippy-dippy "let's all take care of each other" socialism. The First Nations are proud of their growing cultural and financial independence from mainstream America (and rightly so, given how thoroughly we tried to extinguish their culture through forced assimilation). Southern Arizona (El Norte) has a very strongly independent/self-reliant attitude - in conservative areas, this manifests as Tea Party-style anti-government sentiment, whereas in the liberal areas, you see it in the chafing at the Phoenix-run government/attitudes (culminating for a while in the "secede and form a separate state" movement). And one of the first things Brian and I observed upon moving to Chicago (Yankeedom) was how awesome it was that people here understand the economic concept of "a rising tide lifts all boats" - specifically, how investment in top-down infrastructure projects like public transit improve the economic prospects of people across the board. So maybe there's more to the guy's theories than I originally thought.

Settling in: the end is in sight! Down to the last few boxes of books/curios. Not 100% sure where it's all going to go, and we still need to hang art/hook up the home theater/finalize furniture arrangements, but we're nearly done. More than a month after arrival. Hurrah.

Been researching the options for learning aerial gymnastics. There are two groups in town with training facilities, it appears; one's ten minutes away by transit, the other nearly an hour. Judging by their respective websites, one also appears to have a much more comprehensive curriculum, including conditioning and flexibility/contortion (suitable for someone who likes to learn ALL the things!), and an actual course schedule, whereas the other appears to be a much more casual/drop-in setup. Two guesses which one's the closer. And which I'm more interested in. :P Still, the nearby one also has on staff a Juneau native with whom I share some mutual acquaintances, so I might check them out to start. I can always start going to the farther-away one later.

This weekend Brian and I went out to Graceland Cemetery (another must-visit for Dresden Files fans) and had a walk. We got there only an hour before closing, so we definitely weren't seeing the whole place (it's HUGE), but we had heard from a couple of places that fall was the best time to see it. It's a beautiful space, with all sorts of lovely statuary and gently winding roads that encourage contemplation. For which autumn weather, with that slight crisp in the air, is pretty much the perfect atmosphere, even aside from the beauty of the changing trees. And then we came home and had a fire and I made French onion soup - including, for the first time in my life, taking the time to properly caramelize onions. They were delicious.

I don't think there are words for how much better I feel today. Still the occasional bit of coughing here and there, but none of the ridiculous lack of energy that's characterized this entire past week. I'm still loading up on the Emergen-C and fluids, but I'm hopeful that this is the end of it. Which is good, because I'm sure you all were tired of listening to me whine. As I was texting to a friend earlier - "If only complaining on LJ were positively correlated with a faster recovery!"

We decided to celebrate my feeling better by continuing our auditioning of local coffeeshops. Our favorite so far has been Metropolis Coffee, which in addition to its awesome logo and community-oriented atmosphere (there's big signs everywhere asking you to share your table with people when it's crowded) roasts some pretty darn good coffee. But they're a good mile and a half away; easily reached on the train, but a bit far to stumble down to for breakfast of a morning. They've opened up a closer branch over in Andersonville that we haven't been to yet; it's a little over a half-mile away, so it might be a better candidate. Today's contestant, however, was a pretty strong contender; a place called the Kitchen Sink Cafe, which makes their coffee using Metropolis beans and also sells breakfast items, sandwiches, and the like. Brian's breakfast burrito and mocha were pretty excellent; my experience was more muted (both the yogurt and latte I ordered were a bit sweeter than I like), but generally positive nonetheless. Plus the seating area has a giant skylight and an even more giant backlit stained-glass window that I assume was salvaged from a local church. And it's all of two blocks away, which may end up being the deciding factor. We shall see.

Afterward, I was still feeling remarkably energetic, so we finally made our long-delayed new-home hajj to Costco.

We...may have gone a little nuts.

In our defense, and as always happens during a Costco trip, there were so many awesome things that were such an excellent bargain. Especially excellent finds this time: a big thick fuzzy throw blanket (you can never have too many blankets in wintertime, right?) in such a rich shade of purple that Brian's nicknamed it the Pimp Cape, a 12-pack of our favorite ginger beer (that usually requires a special trip to World Market) for $6 less than the WM price, ten whole vanilla beans for $12 (I've never seen vanilla beans for less than $15 for two!), a 1.75 L bottle of Kirkland-brand spiced rum (that turned out to be quite flavorful and good!) for $15, a Blue Moon 24-bottle variety pack, and a pair of wool dress slacks for me that turned out to fit so well (and be so warm - I could totally see walking around outside in the winter in them) that I'm probably going to go back for another pair later this week. We got all the ingredients for our amazingly rich egg nog (which will likely be tomorrow's project, as we want it to have time to sit for the requisite 30 days before it makes its debut at Brian's work Christmas party on December 4th). Plus all our usual grocery-type items. But probably my favorite item was a pair of leather gloves. Designer, so even with the ridiculous Costco markdown they were still frankly expensive (just not as obscenely expensive as they would've been at the original retail price), but they're exactly what I wanted - cashmere lined, long so they don't leave my wrists bare, windproof, elegant and well-made *and* practical. And that rabbit fur cuff is so soft. I just want to sit and pet it for hours. But then Tripp would get jealous.

Needless to say, our tally at the end was a fairly eye-watering number, but I'd had enough to cover the bulk of it set aside already (stocking a new house is never cheap), and just figured I'd pull a bit of cash out of savings for the rest. We packed our ill-gotten gains into the car and headed home, where I checked the mail...and discovered a cheque for our deposit refund from Bisbee Realty, for almost exactly the amount that we'd just spent. (This is more of a windfall than it sounds, as said realty is somewhat infamous among Bisbee denizens for never ever giving back your deposit, ever. And given that I hadn't had time to do more than the bare minimum of cleaning, I assumed they would use that as an excuse to keep the entire thing, so I hadn't budgeted for the extra income.) So, hurrah. It'll be nice to have that money in savings.

Even though I still feel pretty good, I'm not going to push things by going out dancing, even though there's a supposed-to-be-fantastic gay bar nearby. And I'm limiting myself to one drink for the next few days (after a week of not drinking at all, I might add), which is slightly frustrating, as this is the perfect sort of fall evening for a glass of wine by the fire, but I want to save it to have with the stew Brian's got cooking on the stove. But between the new fuzzy blanket, the fire in the fireplace (Did I mention we have a fireplace? We have a fireplace! And the sort of weather that makes fires super-cozy!), the wonderful smells from the kitchen, and some Dead Can Dance on the stereo, I'm feeling pretty well served, and far less likely to relapse again, to boot.

Here's to autumn - may we all have warm fires, cozy blankets, and good wine, and delicious stews to see us through the winter, and loving and patient friends/spouses to take care of us when we're ill. <3

oh my god this stew is phenomenal

Spent...let's say two of the past seven days feeling useless and depressed and frustrated (lack of job, lack of social circle, lack of bravery in pursuing music stuff, all that jazz). Decided that was for the birds. So today I did what any self-respecting middle-class American would do when faced with a house full of boxes and only half-full of furniture: I went to IKEA.

I've been angsting over bookcases for the past three weeks. Ever since we left Juneau and sold our awesome double-size oak bookcases, we've been making do with crappy particle-board Walmart ones, which invariably have shelves that sag under the weight of our somewhat massive book collection; this move, we swore we weren't going to get any more that didn't have solid-wood shelves. Easier said than done - the only option we were able to find that wasn't hundreds of dollars apiece (or didn't require Craigslist searching and finding a truck to haul) were the HEMNES series at IKEA. Nice size, nice design, inexpensive, okay, sounds great! ...except they only come in three colors. Black, brown-grey, and white. Black was Not Ideal - we have a gigantic black TV in here already, and with the black granite countertops/fireplace and dark brown/beige sofa it was just going to make our living room way too dark. The white looks very preschool, which leaves the brown-grey, which...blah. Not my favorite color. But after a bunch of frustrating time spent looking up other options, some of which might have worked but had ridiculous shipping charges attached, some of which seemed well-made but just not as nice...I can deal with the brown-grey, if it means my bookshelves aren't going to sag. And at least it's a nice neutral color.

I'm possibly most excited about finally having a proper bed, with a headboard and a footboard and everything! True, it's just a MALM, but it's more than we had before - our entire life together, Brian and I have slept on a boxspring/mattress on a metal frame. (Someday, we will have a sleigh bed, but that day is not yet here - those things are expensive.) Between that, our cherry-veneer dresser/nightstand/mirror, and a bright-red EXPEDIT, our room's going to be a little mismatched, but we'll see how it looks. Brian thinks it'll be charmingly bohemian. I'm reserving judgment, but if I just can't take it I can always exercise my spousal veto.

We've had a birch-veneer desk from them for a while, and were just using dining-room chairs to sit at it. However, since we're no longer in possession of a dining room (and I sent the table and chairs back to my mother), I tried every single dining-style chair they had on the floor and found the most comfortable one to go with the desk. (Brian specifically requested one, since he doesn't like swivel chairs for some reason.) The photo's a bit awkward, but there's a slight curve to the back that makes it surprisingly comfortable. Plus, it came in birch veneer too, so something will match.

Somehow, I managed to fit all of this (plus new dishes, plus two chair cushions, plus some wooden coat hangers) onto a single flatbed cart, get it rung up and then take it over to the delivery area. (Which probably says far more about IKEA's genius design of flatpacks/carts/layout than it does about me, though I'm rather proud of the Tetrising I did to get that all to fit on one cart.) $59 for home delivery, same day - cheaper than it would've been to rent a truck, and I didn't have to drive an unfamiliar vehicle in the city or on the expressway, either. (Aside: is it a thing in the Midwest where the more cars are on the highway, the faster everyone goes? On the way there, traffic was fairly light, and I was going faster than most at 60. On the way back, it was moderate-to-heavy, and going 65 I was getting passed left, right, and sideways. On a supposed 55 MPH expressway. o.O)

I'd heard some nightmare stories about IKEA delivery, but I guess I lucked out - the guys who delivered my pieces were punctual, friendly, efficient, and strong - I don't think I could have hauled the particle-board EXPEDIT up the stairs myself. So now the house is full of furniture in potentia.

Meanwhile, I've been busy making split-pea soup and trying not to come down with a cough. I think I'm losing ground on the latter, but the soup smells good enough I can probably deal. And I've got enough furniture to build/unpacking to do to keep me busy at least another couple days. After that...I think it's high time I polished my resume and started looking for places to volunteer/work.

Here's to not feeling depressed and useless.

It's turning out to be nearly as much of an adventure settling in to this place as it was getting here. One of the many awesome things about our house in Bisbee was the truly ridiculous amount of storage it had; closets everywhere, two separate built-in chests of drawers, a pantry, etc. Accommodations here are...a little scantier (though we do have a giant walk-in closet that's probably going to house the dresser and some formerly-drawer storage). Most frustrating is the bathrooms; the previous ones both had medicine cabinets, and the master bath had one of the aforementioned built-in chests of drawers. Here we have...nothing! No drawers, no cabinets, flat mirrors, no counter space. Feh. I have a strong suspicion that this place has seen a string of bachelors as tenants.

Today, therefore, was an IKEA trip. As it turns out, the bed and traditional-style bookshelves will both need to wait until we can borrow or rent a truck, but we picked up some bathroom shelving that should serve for my hair things and whatnot, a modular shelving unit that should hold some books and such in our bedroom, and a sofa table that we're hoping will serve for a TV stand. Along with all sorts of nice little touches like candle holders and bathmats and some nice new bowls and plates. Because it's IKEA, and if you don't end up with a bunch of little items in your cart then you're probably not human. (I'm only half-joking there; those stores are almost scarily effective examples of market psychology being used in behavioral engineering.) Now for the fun part - interpretive construction! At least, trying to follow IKEA instructions often feels like an interpretive dance shaped toward eventual construction of your pieces.

We didn't make it to the Field Museum yesterday, but we did get down to Brian's new office to check it out ahead of his starting Friday. I'm pleased to report that it appears thoroughly awesome. The culture there is extremely laid-back and friendly; Brian's cubicle comes with a stock of company-branded foam darts, and the office has - I shit you not - a lounge with a hardwood pool table and fully stocked wet bar, along with an open invitation for spouses to join Friday-after-work cocktail hour. I have a feeling I may be getting to know the folks there rather better than at some of Brian's previous workplaces. :D

As to my own work, I've begun practicing again. Fortunately I don't seem to have lost too much muscle memory over the past week; and while my calluses are gone, I still have fairly tough skin on my fingertips. Chicago is a notoriously busking-unfriendly town, so it's looking like coffeeshop gigs are going to be a good goal to work towards. We went by our new favorite guitar store (the Chicago Music Exchange) so I could try an acoustic amp or two. I'm eyeing the Vox AGA30, as it's a nice portable size (I could haul it and my guitar along on the train without too much trouble) and not too expensive, but Brian (who's done sound work before) isn't sure it'd be loud enough for a good-size coffeeshop, especially with all the ambient noise. But at the moment it's all theoretical anyway - I've got an email for a local place that's looking for performers, but I'd like to have a song or two up on YouTube so I could send them the link first.

The kitties are all settling in well enough. Ian put together their cat tree last night and that's had a soothing effect on Leo The Neurotic Cat's psyche especially. (Between the new environs, the fairly loud central air, the occasional sirens, and some carpenters that've been installing a new deck on the building next door, the poor guy's been rather frazzled. Even when we just had the parts for the tree stacked up in the corner he was spending a goodly amount of time hiding in one of the houses. Fortunately he's doing better today.) Dexter is rather miffed that he's been on a wet-food-only diet, though as the vet predicted, it's doing good things for his coat. (And it's not like he can't stand to lose a pound or two.) Tripp spent the first few days sleeping an awful lot (not unlike his humans...), but as Brian put it when his petting hand was pounced upon this morning, "I can tell you're feeling better because now you're all crazy again."

Somewhat entertainingly, we've been here four days and still haven't gone grocery shopping (other than the earlier-referenced trip for salad supplies for dinner the other day). The last time we moved across the country, we had to go shopping almost immediately, as the only non-fast-food options were mediocre chains. This time, between being so tired from travelling and being so busy putting our house together and being so eager to try all the amazing food (at least two pho places within a block of our house! Ann Sather just a couple of streets over! Better Mexican food than we had the entire time we were in Arizona!), we haven't even gotten around to cooking in our fabulous new kitchen yet. But it's only a matter of time, I'm sure.

Sleep-pet cats-shower-breakfast-pet cats-nap-nap-pet cats-lunch-swim-hot tub-swim-hot tub-pet cats-read-nap-dinner-pet cats-write letter-blog-pet cats-read-sleep.

Glorious.

Oh good goddamn. And I thought Phoenix to Bisbee was too much goddamn driving.

Today, dear reader, we drove through northern New Mexico (quite pretty!), the northwest corner of Texas, the panhandle of Oklahoma (OOOOOOOOklahoma!), and (most of the way) through Kansas. From about Texas all the way through Kansas, there was a whole lot of nothing between towns - the most interesting parts were a beef farm (I was corrected on Facebook by a Midwest native that they're called "feed lots"), some grain fields (prettier and far less smelly), a few pretty horses, and (midway through Kansas) an opossum crossing the road. Although we did most of the Kansas leg at night, I have a feeling we probably didn't miss much.

Google Maps had estimated the day's trip at just over nine hours - although, oddly, Apple Maps estimated it at closer to eleven. We ended up splitting the difference, coming in at about ten hours of driving, counting (very short) breaks. Google Maps probably was pretty close to accurate, as I imagine we probably took an hour's worth of breaks (fifteen minutes in a couple places, twenty or so for lunch, and a quick ten-minute bathroom break). The estimate for tomorrow is eight hours, which will probably become nine or so with breaks, but it's the last big long day of driving - we'll be hanging out at a Holiday Inn Express in Lincoln (three hours outside of Chicago) for a day or two until the current tenant vacates and we can move in. And they have a pool and a hot tub! I'll have to buy a swimsuit, as mine is currently in the depths of the Penske truck, but I strongly suspect a large portion of my time will be spent there.

We seem to have found the optimal sedative dose for each of the cats today - Leo the Aspiring Straitjacket Wearer gets a full dose, while Tripp and Dexter seem to do fine on the half-doses the vet recommended starting with. Additionally, when we grind up the pill and mix it with tuna broth, it seems to go down easier (with Leo and Tripp at least) and hit their system a bit faster, too. All three gave only token resistance going into their carriers, anyway, and were quiet almost the entirety of the trip - enough that we were a bit worried about them a couple of times. (Further evidence my husband is awesome: if he's concerned enough about the cats, he thinks nothing of pulling over to the side of the road - on an interstate! - and double-checking to make sure they're still breathing and okay.)

Today's curveball was a thunderstorm over Kansas. Conditioned to Arizona storms, I had sort of assumed it would be fierce and over quickly. Instead, it went on for a good hundred miles, although we were lucky enough to be mostly on the edge of it rather than in the middle. (Ian got caught in the middle of it with the truck and is consequently staying the night in Pratt, an hour and a half west of here, since he didn't want to push on until 1 AM.) There was some pretty spectacular lightning, though, and it was nice in that it washed all the bugs off the windshield.

Really, for all that the driving's been tedious, we can't complain too much about this trip. The truck both fit in our driveway and was exactly the right size for all the stuff we wanted to bring. We had friends to help us with the packing and loading. The cats have been generally well-behaved and haven't had adverse reactions to the sedatives. Plains states aside, there's been some pretty scenery. We have a good friend we trust driving the truck with all our stuff in it, and helping us with the cats. Nobody's broken down or had a flat. And if our motel room today smells rather strongly of cheap air freshener, well, it's clean and inexpensive and they didn't charge twice the room rate for the cats like the first place I called wanted to.

And now, more sleep! Really looking forward to that hot tub tomorrow night...

After three days of crazy packing/loading/cleaning, I managed to fall into bed at 10:30 PM last night...only to jerk awake at 1:00 AM due to my body dumping a shot of adrenaline into my system. Followed by half an hour of tossing and turning before finally calming down enough to doze...and then the whole cycle repeated itself.

All. Night.

It's morning now, and I think I got maybe four hours of sleep, all told. But I have to get up early anyway - bunch of last minute cleaning and loading to do, and then the walkthrough's at 10:00 AM, and then we're off! For ten hours of driving. Augh. I normally can't sleep when I'm not prone, but I might just be tired enough to take a blanket and pillow and try curling up in the seat anyway.

But for now, cleaning. And more adrenaline! At least I'm not missing the coffee maker this morning?

Getting here turned out to be...interesting. Literally just as we were leaving Tucson (the flight attendants had done the safety check and we were about to taxi to the runway) a huge thunderstorm came and squatted right over Chicago; after an hour with no change they de-boarded everyone and had us all wait at the gate. Fortunately, as we had no connections to make and nowhere to be until 2:00 the next day, it wasn't a super-stressful thing; my biggest worry was getting in super-late and forcing our Airbnb host to wait up for us. (She did end up having to, as between flight delay, baggage claim, and the mile-long line for cabs we didn't even make it here until nearly 2 AM, but she was very gracious about it.) It wasn't so awful; one of our friends was also delayed heading to San Francisco in the same batch of gates, so we got to have a drink and he gushed about how much we were going to love Chicago. As the delay stretched on, I ended up doing an impromptu concert of sorts for several of the wriggly/tired/grouchy/impatient toddlers and their families; it got me many a grateful glance from the parents. Hurrah for having a travel guitar and knowing lots of old hippie music.

Yesterday was the walking-all-over-town-to-showings day, although we actually only got to two; I ended up canceling the one with the dude who was trying to sell his condo, and another guy texted me to let me know that he'd rented out his place (but since it was the one we were most iffy about, we weren't too fuzzed). We ended up looking at a place in Edgewater that was good-if-not-great; it had a nice kitchen and was on a nice street in a nice neighborhood, but it didn't quite have that "oh wow this is perfect" feeling. (Though we discovered a fabulous local coffee place just around the corner from it - Brian liked their logo so much he bought one of their travel mugs.) I gave the guy our paperwork just in case (he and his partner were nice dudes, and we certainly wouldn't have minded renting from them!), and then we headed to the long-awaited Andersonville condo.

It isn't quite perfect - the decor is very early-aughts yuppie, with white walls and stainless appliances and not a whole lot of personality. (A colored accent wall or two would help a lot, I think.) Also the side windows in the bedrooms have literally no view - brick wall, ahoy! Still, the kitchen is amazing as advertised, and while the front room's a touch on the small side (I'm going to have to see about shipping our wonderful oak and granite table back to Mum, as there's quite literally no room for it), the master bedroom is huge for a condo, and has a lovely large back deck off of it. The view from the front, while nothing amazing, is pleasant enough, and it's on a lovely tree-lined street all of a block and a half from Clark Street (Andersonville's main commercial thoroughfare - we already found a pub there with the most amazing food and a craft beer list about three miles long).

We put it an application pretty much immediately. The guy told us he had a few others in as well, but when I pulled out our credit reports, two separate letters of reference, and Brian's job offer, he looked a little overwhelmed. When he asked me what I did and I gave him an impromptu rendition of the first bit of "All That Jazz", he looked a lot overwhelmed. I was a little worried I might have overdone it; he struck me very much as a twenty-years-older version of the guys I used to intimidate the hell out of in high school. But I guess it worked, since after a slightly nail-biting wait I got a text from him that he and his wife had decided to rent to us! (I suspect he might have left the song-and-dance bit out of the story when he told it to his wife. Or maybe not, who knows.)

I'm very pleased; as I said, the place isn't quite "want to live here forever" perfect, but it's a good rent price for the area and has a fireplace and a tandem parking spot (hurrah! We can offer our friends parking when they come over!) and that fantastic kitchen. So I think it'll do quite well for a few years until we either move again or decide to stay in Chicago and buy a condo of our own. And in the meantime, we have the rest of our trip free to explore and enjoy without worrying about apartment-hunting! Hurrah!

They're not quite 100%, but I have enough strength and dexterity in my left fingers to properly play again. And my middle finger, which was stiff enough to be problematic on some chords, seems to be back in business. There's more than a little practicing and rebuilding endurance ahead, especially with the three-hour gig coming up in a couple of weeks, but I don't care - I can finally play again!

Also we're moving to Chicago.