On the plane, I ran into a friend (not associated with the Association W.P.) and the two hours passed quickly. We shared a taxi to the Palmer House, and her business paid. Thanks!

Then, I found out my reservation was not at the Palmer House. Lesson Learned: Chicago has two Hiltons within a few blocks of each other. At least, I was not the only one to make this mistake.

Another taxi ride later, I was inside the Chicago Hilton and eagerly wanting my room and a comfy bed. I’d been up since 0600.

The next morning, I worked the 32 Poems table and chatted with my table neighbors from New Sin Press. Jake Ricafrente showed up in the afternoon to help out.

After the day came to a close, I met some friends for dinner at a local bar. I had to get away from the mob of writers, so we went a secret location no one else seemed to know about. One friend regaled us with hilarious stories, and I had tears in my eyes from laughing so hard. My other friend and I continued the conversation in her room for another hour or so and then met one of her friends from California in the Palmer House lobby.

The lobby is gorgeous, no? They just re-did all the gold.

When my room produced near-Arctic temperatures, I thought it was just me. By the next day, I realized that the room temperature was NOT normal and dialed magic 5-0 (no, not the police) for help. An engineer confirmed the heater’s fan was broken. He said they’d see if a room change was possible. This took about 40 minutes to resolve and time was ticking. I had a party I wanted to attend, and I worked hard not to be cranky.

The room change was possible. I then lugged my heavy-as-heck luggage up to the 23rd floor.

Reaching the 23rd floor required going from floor 9 to floor 8 and then switching to an elevator that took me to 23. I wish I had a video to show you how silly it all was. You can’t switch at certain floors. Bizarre.

For freezing to death the night before, I was rewarded with lake views and a view of Grant Park and Q-tips and a phone in the bathroom. Ah, heavenly.

See the room.

I then headed off to a poet’s birthday party — having to take three elevators to reach the proper floor — and bumped into many poets I wanted to see. I drank bourbon and talked poetry. Good times.

32 Poems Table Visitors: Rebecca Wee, Kathleen Winter, Cheri Peters from Sewanee, Moira Egan, Traci O’Dea, Randall Mann (I heard they sold out of his book!), Reb Livingston, Judy Kerman, and many others. I visited some people I know from a poetry listserv and also some DC-area writers. It was great to meet some of these people in person after all these years!