I really haven’t been able to find any Chicago/London tickets for under $600. It’s maddening! Maybe it’s just too early. Maybe I need to wait awhile. Maybe the early bird doesn’t get the worm any longer.

This damn cold won’t let up. My sinuses are stuffed with concrete and everything sounds underwater. Work is driving me up the wall. 

The actual frigid temps outside … well, I don’t mind them so much. I handle extreme cold much better than I handle extreme heat. The apartment is perfectly warm. The new flannel sheets that Andy put on the bed yesterday were so warm, I was almost too hot. Plenty of coffee to drink. What’s the big deal? We haven’t had any broken pipes, thankfully. What I like about the extreme cold is the (momentary) disappearance of the slow-walking pedestrian from the streets and sidewalks of Chicago. Heck, it almost seems like there have been times in the last few days when I’ve had the sidewalk all to myself. 

I’ve found a punch recipe in theback of the original Trader Vic’s cookbook that I think will work nicely for the Oscar party. It’s a champage tiki punch (!) Sounds deceptively strong. Excellent. If there’s one thing our parties are known for, it’s the suckerpunch punches.

Politics? Hmm. Am I the only one who feels a certain detachment from it all at the moment? The state of our planet could be amazingly different within my own lifetime. It’s a little disorienting.