Chicago! Or A Strange Convergence Of Several Of The Words 'Cold'

So we were supposed to go to Austin and while I was there, I was going to see my friend Arthur, who is one of the heroes of Coldtowne, an improv troupe of epic proportions. Nature responded, and made Texas a literal cold town with a streak of ice storms. Ice storms in Texas? What kind of world, again, is this? So the airline bedded us down in Chicago instead, where Arthur used to be, and the adventure began.
The first step in the adventure was, ostensibly, to leave my camera right next to the hotel sink where I would be sure to forget it. Thus, you will be seeing no digital representations of any city, windy or otherwise, in this entry. Next was a forty minute subway ride, interspersed with brief and snowy spats of above-groundedness. After that was a two hour tour of the part of downtown that includes the Sears Tower and the Field Museum, and a crapload of cold. Did I mention that it was seventeen degrees outside and thus literally freezing? I almost died. As it is, I still suffer a strange malady wherein only the backs of my wrists are dried out. Weird, huh? I don't get it either. There was some Italian food in there somewhere. From there, the adventure proceeds in reverse order... forty minutes backwards, and then discovering my camera exactly in the last place I had left it.
Chicago is now done.