Keith and I spent yesterday shopping and eating and just hanging out in Boystown, and then we capped off our day with a showing of The Company, which we really loved. In addition to Altman's brilliant restraint in letting the story tell itself, the focus on some of my favorite Joffrey dancers and the casting of a bunch of Chicago actors I recognized -- including the woman I saw so brilliantly play Desirée Armfeldt in A Little Night Music just two nights earlier -- I think I got the biggest kick out of seeing an endless parade of Chicago locations I recognized in this movie. It's cool that after only three years here I feel such a sense of ownership and belonging in Chicago -- and that I've gotten to know the city so well I can pinpoint location shots in movies, commercials and TV shows.

This morning, after a leisurely reading of the paper over orange juice, toast and big-band jazz, Keith headed off to the airport and I headed to the laundry room for some long-overdue sartorial cleansing (six loads!). A cute guy I've never seen before in the building tried to chat me up in front of the dryers, but I had my Crest Whitestrips in, so I couldn't make charming, flirtatious conversation ... and he eventually wandered off. Sigh. But while my clothes were sloshing and spinning their way to cleanliness, I rotated my mattress (only 18 days behind on my strict three-month rotation regimen) and did naughty things with my credit cards on amazon.com. Within the week, I should be getting a huge shipment of DVDs including Finding Nemo and Bedknobs and Broomsticks and cast albums including Hairspray, Little Shop of Horrors, Urinetown, Wicked and Avenue Q. (Some picker/packer in some Amazon warehouse is probably making fag jokes as we speak.)