I am very proud of myself today. I parallel parked a Buick the size of Cleveland today, without hitting anyone or anything. It is a perfect parking job, if I don't say so myself, (but I do!).

Of course said Buick isn't MY Buick. It belongs to TheCompanyIWorkFor (phraseology borrowed from Bet). They are trusting me with this monster of a vehicle, because they are asking me to take a class tomorrow, which is all the hell's way in Joliet. For those of you who know nothing of Chicago, Joliet is so far south it makes me blush.

I have to say that despite the fact that the Buick is LARGE, it has some really cool features - like the OnStar System, and a voice activated telephone, heated seats and a CD player. I feel like, since I have a car tonight, I should run all kinds of errands. Truth is, I have no desire to do so, because I rented some DVDs over the weekend and I still have one left to watch. I won't have time to run errands AND watch the DVD. However, I will have the car tomorrow night, and that will be my opportunity to go cruizin -- er, I mean, run errands.

Did I happen to mention that I drove the Big Buick with my hands outstretched and rigid, touching the steering wheel with only my palms because my nails were wet from my manicure?

I'll bet you didn't guess that about me - I get my nails done on a semi-regular basis. Today they are a pinkish color that I let Harriet the Manicurist talk me in to. I don't like pink usually, but this is quite nice. It goes with the tan I got on Sunday.

Wow, I never even mentioned Sunday, did I? Sunday is really a blog in and of itself. Sunday is the day I went to go see Elvis Costello perform in Grant Park. He was wonderful. He sang 20 songs for us, several of them Motown favorites. He sang Blood and Chocolate, which I'm pretty sure was for Mike, and he did a lovely version of Deep Dark Truthful Mirror, which had to have been for me. (Yes, I'm in the minority - I think Spike is one of his best albums.) I would have preferred I Want You, but who am I to ask anything of Elvis?

The opening act was some woman who, while she actually did have talent, ended up being ignored, since the people in the crowd had been waiting in line for at least five hours in 90 degree heat to see Elvis, not this noname. We were all wishing her off the stage, quietly, when GOD himself decided he'd had enough of this woman too. Out of nowhere, a big black cloud appeared and brought forth pea-sized hail, right in the middle of the summer! There was thunder and lightening, and tiny frozen hail bits, and the woman left the stage.

Within 10 minutes of her departure, the rain ended. The Emcee did a little schtick and then there was Elvis.

Going by Elvis's blog (I'd hyperlink, but the site seems to be under construction at the moment) he was pretty annoyed with Chicago the last couple of times he was here. I think he showed it by not talking to us at all. And I mean nothing. No spoken words outside of introducing the band. (Pete Thomas AND Steve Nieve, thank you.) He did laugh at us once though.

He was going along through You Really Got a Hold on Me, when he decided to include some audience participation. He would sing something, and then have us sing back to him. But then Elv got all fancy on us, and did some really majorly acrobatic things with his voice. He can do these things because he's really gifted. This audience: loud, but not gifted. So instead of singing after him when he got all fancy, we cheered. The first time he smiled. Then he sang a verse, which was followed by more of the same kind of audience participation. I guess he wanted to give us a chance to try out that nifty trill he can do with his voice, because he did it again. We responded in kind by applauding.

Elvis laughed - well, snorted actually. I think it was pretty amazing that we all had the same reaction - and let me tell you, there were at least two thousand of us there.

He played three encores and then left, just as the downpour began again.

Did I happen to mention that it was over 90 degrees and Elvis was wearing BLACK jeans with a BLACK shirt and a BLACK blaser? From where I was standing, I can say with some confidence that he should have been sweating so much more than he actually was. I tell you, the man is cool.

I wonder if Elvis would be impressed by the Buick?