Jamie Janosz

It was Friday, and I wanted nothing more than to get back home. I visit Chicago four times a year for work meetings. And, despite the hassles that come with travel, I love those visits. I soak in face-to-face time with my coworkers (not on a little Skype screen), have dinner with my sister Julie, and squeeze in as much girlfriend time as possible. But by Friday I am definitely ready to head home. My introverted self often feels exhausted after a week of non-stop work and visiting. So I headed to Midway airport with plenty of time before my 4:15 p.m. departure time. Tucked safely inside four ziploc bags was a frozen pizza for my husband. He is still in deep withdrawal from Chicago pizza (not the thick crust variety, but thin crust, cut-in-squares, from Aurelio's - extra sauce). My trip was off to a good start. The TSA line was miraculously short. In fact, they had a new bin procedure that allowed four people at one time to empty their bags, take off their shoes, and shutt...

    Lately, I've been living vicariously through one of my college students as she made a springtime trip to Paris. Ahhhhh....to be in Paris, again.   I love that city - I've been obsessed with it since high school French class. My friend, Cathy, and I were so Paris-crazed, that we talked her parents into inviting a foreign-exchange student to live with them. He was French, indeed, but did not live up to our teenage fantasies of the cute Parisian boy. He was averse to showers and a bit of a grouchy loner.   Just after I was married, I finally took a trip to Paris with my husband. We rode the Metro, visited the Notre Dame, and ate croissants in a cafe. Paris was everything I'd imagined and more. It was a bit gritty - a tad decadent - and so, so, so gloriously cool.   We loved the Rodin museum with its enormous front lawn and statue garden. We listened to jazz on a boat docked at the Seine. We ate anchovies on pizza in a dark alley-side cafe. W...