leaving, on a jet plane

Saying goodbye, to New York, to my apartment, to the close friends I’ve made over the past year, was the hardest part. Dealing with the delays and the weather in Chicago was easy. It always seems so easy to jet set. Aside from the logistics of finding sublettors and trying to do way too much with my last days (including a food-laden two day trip up to Montreal and back, and a day trip (yes, just a day) up to Boston and back to visit Formaggio Kitchen, Chinatown, Christina’s, Bukowski, and of course Craigie Street Bistrot (all in a day?!!!). I was imaginably frazzled and worn down by the end, and the 9am departure out of LaGuardia was anything but painless. Shannon accompanied me to the airport after I spent the morning packing away the rest of my belongings. I was frazzled (so much so that I left my beautiful cheese and ham purchases in the fridge), and we were both rather heartbroken. And so I took off.

Chicago was a bit of a disappointment. I had hoped to eat at a few places during my several-hour layover. Frontera Grill was on my to-do list, as was Lula Café and a visit to my friend BK’s sushi bar at the Fairmont. Instead, I spent a couple of hours booking Madrid restaurants and so only had an opportunity for a bite at Lula, as that’s all the timing ended up allowing. Back at the airport I had just enough time to squeeze in a shower before being the second-to-last guy on the plane. Not such a bad thing, as I was able to spot a row of 3 empty seats about halfway down the plane. With the least of hesitation I was in that middle seat, staking out the row. About ten minutes later the engines were revving and I had already popped my Ambien and laid down to sleep for the night.