I think this picture of Ben makes him look like Byron in a tender mood, don’t you? He was here this weekend for a rather exciting* couple of days, and I am very fond of cutting people’s faces up into little bits. (Really; just ask Ross.)

Re: visitations in general—I have to confess it has been rather a steep learning curve moving to a city that everyone wants to visit. I think we’ve had ten sets of friends and family fly in to stay with us this year. BUT! It turns out that I must not be nearly as antisocial as I declare**, since I have loved seeing all of my dear, dear guests immensely, and naturally Ben was far from the exception. Therefore, here is his yummy, cut-up face, and my Romantic thought, to break the silence of the week.

*Well, there were a couple of exciting moments. But we did spend rather a lot of time walking around Hyde Park, which became quite suddenly terribly famous six days ago but continues to lack a certain density of development. I was worried that Ben was not getting to see as much of the city I keep raving about as he wanted. Still, the immediate neighborhood was in good form: chilly but crisply beautiful and absolutely papered in golden leaves. Ben—used to the buzz of the Village—claimed to have been enjoying the quiet because it helped him relax and think. I suppose it’s possible he might have been telling the truth.

**I spelled that “declaire” the first time. And then I wondered what exactly one would have to do to an eclair in order to turn it into a declaire, and I got lost in chocolatey dreams for a minute.

Good morning, America! It really is morning again.

Click through to the photo page for what I has ‘ter say.

I have a post-election hangover, which I treated with coffee and a fried egg and ham on challah toast. VERY effective.

Now, somehow, I have to go get my teeth cleaned at the dentist. I think I might fall asleep in the chair. Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaawn.

Frankly, I don’t even know if we’re going to be able to get within striking distance of Grant Park, and for weeks I’ve been telling Ross that he couldn’t drag me there tonight for a million dollars, but this morning a switch flipped in my brain that enabled me to ignore the fact that I HATE crowds more than anything else in the known universe (I think it’s the kind of switch that enables people to have more babies after they’ve been through labor). Therefore, we have officially decided to spend tonight on the streets of downtown Chicago while the election returns start to come in. Maybe we’ll be able to smell Obama. I hear he smells like cologne and hope.

See you tomorrow, my dear dears.

I’ve spent a total of six and a half hours over the past two days, sitting in three different venues, listening to really smart people talk to me and each other about literature, music, ancient languages, genetics and the brain, the entirety of the world’s life forms, computer vision, architecture, and urban planning.

I’m incredibly tired, and my head hurts as much as my feet, but man. I think the Chicago Humanities Festival is a force for good in the world.