Conference In Chicago

Because my mom came along, we stayed in the nicest damn hotel. No crashing on futons for me.


Also because my mom was there, we took a lot of cabs (Chicago is windy!). But we also took the El. That damn train feels like it's going to tip over. I prefer my trains underground, thank you.




And because my mom was there, we ate deep dish



But we also ate tapas and sangria and crab salads and prosecco


Finally, because my mom was there, I got to do wonderful touristy things and not just conference-y things (which were, admittedly, also great), like check out the Frank Lloyd Wright houses in Oak Park




And have a drink at the top of the John Hancock building, and then wander through downtown




Now, my mom came with me a conference once before. The very first time I got a paper accepted to a real, grown-up (non-student) conference, she and my dad flew us all down there, and rented a car, and got a hotel room (and stocked it with wine), and even sat through my talk - my mom, in her gold sketchers and gold earrings and leopard print top, my dad in his Nexen Engineering promotional windbreaker and his Colt Engineering promotional golf shirt. It was absolutely lovely.

Now admittedly, we dowdy academics dress like caricatures of ourselves too. But not this time, friends. Because this time, when I arrived to find myself underdressed for the cold, my mom went and bought me scarf. And the only one she could find (SO SHE CLAIMED) was loud gold paisley just like hers.


The two of us walking around with our big, Texas beauty queen hair and our gold scarves? We were several El stops away from the University before I put that thing on, lemme tell you.