Chicago Trip - Let's Start with the Stupid Stuff

I am not sure if I do an inordinate amount of stupid stuff or if I'm just more willing to admit it than other people. But I thought that in recapping the great two weeks in Chicago, I would start with the really, really, really stupid stuff that happened.
There is a lot.
One of the pluses of working for a classy firm is that they fly you first class. One of the negatives is that in first class, you're so comfy and snoozy that you can be.......careless. Inattentive even. And so, when you saunter to the LOVELY first class bathroom on the plane ("Can we get you anything else to drink Mrs X?" the flight attendant asks as I pass, frighteningly knowing my NAME) that you might, just might, forget to be very careful what you are doing in that bathroom. And you might lift up the seat as well as the lid, and then SIT down into the horrid bowl of steel airplane toilet. And, in your confusion, you might HIT the FLUSH button on the wall with your arm. Which creates a vacuum. A POWERFUL AIRPLANE ENGINE POWERED VACUUM.
On your butt.
Which, ummm, HURTS.
Fortunately, basic physics didn't fail me and I had the sense to BREAK the vacuum by prying my finger between my buttcheek and the bowl and was able to free myself, thus preventing airplane DEATH by TOILET SEAT.

Yeah, that one is going to be hard to top.

I don't think I can, which is why I lead off with it.

I also drove back and forth on highway 41 on the phone with the people at Residence saying "BUT I DO NOT SEE THE EXIT" for about 15 minutes........until finally I said "OHHHH, you mean the one marked HIWAY 43.......EXIT..."

yeah......I think part of my brains got sucked down that toilet.

Then there was the night that we ran into Jim Belushi or his best doppleganger ever. There is something sad about being so drunk that Jim Belushi is offering to pitch in and help pay your cab fare.

We partied with Irish girls, one of whom puked in a cup at the table, and proceeded to continue to party. Ummm, file that under ewwwww.

I pulled up next to a Chicago PD after having been carousing in Lincoln Park for HOURS and said "OY! I can't find Ontario and I need to get on 94......can you help me out?"
The wafts of Jameson and Guiness coming from my breath didn't deter him one bit....he helped me out plenty. Maybe I just looked like a dorky mom and not a PARTY GIRL.......I had on my dorky mom disguise.

On my way home, I accidentally walked through security with my cell phone in my pocket. I forgot I had it on me, I NEVER carry it. I thought I was doomed for a body cavity search when they announed "GO GET A MATRON". After they had completely gone through every thing I own and given me the full body pat down INCLUDING making me lift my shirt a bit (how'd you like that FAT TSA MATRON?) I was allowed to go. I think the big secret to the TSA, is SMILE.
Be polite. Apologize. Be understanding and don't toss them shit. I remember back when you feared the border guards because they could fuck up your world if you gave them a smart aleck response. Everyone needs to treat the TSA the same way, and you can move along nicely. Seriously, they were totally nice to me when initially it looked like I was going to have a lovely girl on girl scene in private room at the General Mitchell airport.

To top of my stupid stuff, it wasn't that stupid, but I SWEAR the entire plane looked at me, when I stood up to let the guy next to me sit back down, I cracked my head HARD on the bulkhead of the plane.

How you ask?

I don't know.

I just meant to stand up....and I stood up too fast, didn't account for the lower ceiling just over the seats and WHAM!!!!

No, I wasn't drinking........

hard to believe, though, isn't it?

I really had to pee.......but knew better this time.