The Bueller

Just as Ferris Bueller took his day off, so shall I.

I realize there are differences. Ferris was a well-liked high school student with a penchant for technology and faking sick; I am a 30-year old woman who knows how to switch on her television and record something on her PVR. When I feel a hint of anything (sore neck, sore muscles, scratchy throat, warm head, runny nose, headache, crusty lips, tired eyes, and the like), I call in sick for work as a preventative measure.

Along with his best friend Cameron and girlfriend Sloane, Ferris spent his “day off” enjoying all Chicago has to offer. He took in a Cubs baseball game, ate in a fancy restaurant, went to the Art Institute and saw priceless works of art, went to the top of the Sears tower and leaned his head against the glass, and sang “Danke Schoen” and danced on a float in the Von Steuben Day parade. He certainly made use of his “day off”.

This morning I am feeling “blah”. “Blah” is difficult to describe, but it’s kind of correlated to bad weather and an upset stomach. It sometimes happens when you’ve eaten too many Doritos and drank too much red wine the previous evening, and then the sun just refuses to shine.

The only remedy really is a day of fun in Chicago. The problem is, I live in Vancouver.

I will spend my day attempting to re-create the atmosphere that Ferris imagined, to ensure that my “day off” is also well spent. I will take in some wonderful sights: the frozen foods section of the grocery store, the pages of People magazine, and my television screen while I watch, “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off”.

I will attempt to have some fun in the way that I know how.

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