My 26th birthday was one of the best birthdays I've had, which may be surprising once you hear that I spent almost the entire day alone. Rob was at the conference the whole day. When he woke up, he snuggled up to me and told me happy birthday. Then he left and I went back to sleep and didn't see him again until late that night.

But I had a great day. First, I ordered room service for a birthday breakfast in bed.

(Note the bacon. A birthday is not a proper birthday without bacon.)

Then I headed into downtown Chicago where I spent the afternoon shopping my way down Michigan Avenue. I had late afternoon tea at the historic Drake Hotel. There was a harpist and it was quite lovely. And then I spent the evening at the Chicago Art Institute, where I took two really interesting tour/talks and then roamed about among my favorite collections: Impressionism, Japanese, and Photography.

This Monet painting gave me pause, and not just because it's one of my favorites. I've actually been there - to Giverny, to Monet's waterlily garden. And as I stood looking at this painting and thinking about the actual place, I realized that I had been there exactly a decade ago. I celebrated my 16th birthday in Madrid, on a high school trip, and just a handful of days later we went to see Giverny. Gazing at Monet's Japanese bridge, which 10 years ago I stood upon, I felt I'd come full circle in a way.

Birthday girl

I guess we do look at history, and especially our own personal histories, almost as paintings. Moments are captured and frozen and yet still contain precise detail and vivid color. The mind becomes a museum of memories, each wing representing a different era of life. And we're adding to the collections all the time.

Eventually I left the art gallery and wandered around the city taking photographs. I swear I could do that all day long. I love to observe and I think there is such beauty in the way a city is a living being. I hung around downtown until the sun set and all the lights began to glow, and then I hopped on the train to head back to the hotel.

I had told Rob I'd be back by 9:00, but I'd happily lost track of time in the art museum. Rob called my cell at 10:00, when he returned after his last session to an empty hotel room.

"Hey," I said.

"Kelly? Oh, thank god. I was worried."

The relief in his voice was palpable. And it's hard to explain why, but I found this touching. It's nice to be reminded that I mean the world to someone. And the hint of fear, and the subsequent relief, in Rob's voice said that better than any Hallmark card could.

Finally I arrived back to our hotel room. We snacked on wine and cheese and told each other all about the day. And then we went to bed.

Rob's conference ended on Sunday and that evening we finally got to celebrate my birthday together. We had dinner in The Signature Room on the 95th floor of the Hancock Center. It was a fantastic meal with a stunning view overlooking the city. And then we took a sunset cruise on Lake Michigan.

All in all, a fabulous start to my 27th year on this planet.

1. I am tired. Because my husband's motherfucking work cell phone beeped all night long with text message (server notification) alerts. And then when the text messages stopped pouring in, the motherfucking thing began beeping its low battery alert. You know, once every ten minutes or so, such that it would beep just as I had fallen back to sleep after being awakened by the LAST beep. Which eventually provoked me to say to Rob, "When I asked you earlier this evening if your phone needed charging, why the hell did you say no?" To which he responded that he hadn't actually checked before telling me no which, I might suggest, was the WRONG answer to give to someone already rather (and by rather I mean VERY) annoyed. Also, when asked "Think you might plug the motherfucker in so we can get some fucking sleep?" the WRONG answer is "Yeah, in a minute - when I get the energy." And then when The Annoyed One gets out of bed to plug it in her own damn self and climbs back into bed a wee bit cold, the WRONG thing to say is, "No blanket! I'm REALLY hot." But, the correct response to that is an empathic yanking of the blanket to one's chin, a terse "THEN PERHAPS YOU SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN UP TO PLUG IN THE GODDAMNED PHONE AS THAT WOULD HAVE COOLED YOU OFF" and a hrumphing onto one's side with one's back to one's husband and one's husband's goddamn motherfucking cell phone. (And don't even ask why he didn't just put the fucker on vibrate because there is no good answer to that, either.) So, um, yes. I am tired.




2. Our air conditioner is broken. Déjà vu.




3. Two shoe sales people were rude to me today. Okay, not rude. But not friendly. Perhaps they don't understand that shoe shopping is an oasis. Perhaps someone should explain to them that one doesn't fuck with the oasis. That some woman someday might use shoe shopping as a way to escape her sweltering, sleepless life. That when she walks through the door, she will need kindness and soothing. And that, when she asks about a certain shoe which just might be the loveliest shoe she has ever laid her weary eyes upon, not having it in her size is NOT AN OPTION, DAMMIT.

Rob and I just returned home from Chicago, where we've been since Thursday. Rob attended a geek conference and, meanwhile, I fell more and more in love with the city each day. Details on that - and how I spent my birthday - to come.

Saturday night when we went to bed, Rob set the hotel alarm clock so he'd wake up in time for the morning session. In the middle of the night, I awoke to Rob repeatedly pressing buttons on the clock. Over and over and over again. And even though he was sitting up in order to reach the alarm clock, I knew he was doing all of this in his sleep.

"Rob, you already set the alarm clock. Remember? When you went to bed."

"Yeah, but I'm using a Bayesian method."

"Go back to sleep, babe."

"No, I need to work on this. One is yes and zero is no and..."

"It's okay - you've got it set for the right time. Come here and go back to sleep."

He did, sighing as he settled under the sheet. And I chuckled to myself. Because, holy shit, the dude said Bayesian in his sleep! I mean, most people don't even know what that is when they're awake! And, super holy shit, the dude freaking dreams in BINARY?! Um, geek-genius much? Sheesh.

And then I drifted off to sleep. You know, to dream about diagramming sentences and speaking only in iambic pentameter.