We've been in our new Chicago neighborhood for a month now. A twenty seven year absence from Chicago has made it seem like I stepped into a time warp. Chicago is much more ethnic than I remember. I don't have a problem with that, it's just a bit jarring to be shopping at the supermarket and see these ghostly figures in black roaming the aisles. I'm told that they are women and that those are burqas that they are wearing. I notice that the men aren't wearing a male version of it. Chandler has adapted quite readily to his new home. He has declared the entire block that we walk, to be his. Do not walk in his territory or you will suffer the wrath of Chandler. The nice folks at the end of the block have already discovered that. But you can't blame Chandler, I warned them not to try and pet him. Mark, on the other hand, only knows our house and the walk from the back door to the garage. Which would be nice if he were driving. But no, Mark is terrified of Chicago traffic. He has me driving everywhere despite the fact that I really shouldn't. Mark cannot deal with the narrow streets, the expressways, or Chicago drivers. Especially the drivers. He says they're too aggressive, as he screams out the window at them. I really do need for him to start driving more. I need some quiet time alone, and I can only get that if he learns how to deal with city driving so that he can go shopping. I'll worry about what to do with all the crap he'd end up buying when the time comes. We do have a super big basement, plenty of room for his crap down there... or I could move my recliner and a television down there.