CVK's alarm clock rang at 3:45am, and I dragged myself out of bed for a quick shower and to finish packing my bag.  I loaded my satchel and bag into the car, kissed CVK goodbye, and at 4:30, backed out of my driveway and was off to LAX where I found a nice parking space, jumped on the shuttle and was through security in a flash (although they did scan my satchel twice, which was odd because I'd put my video iPod, my iPod nano, my regular iPod, my GPS, my Kodak handycam and my cell phone in a large plastic bag separately in a bin).  I was at my gate no more than 2 minutes when they began boarding.  My seat belt fit without my having to ask for an extension, and my video iPod was handy in the seat pocket in front of me.  This was going to be smooth. 

The pilot came on the speaker and said that his oxygen mask wasn't working, and a mechanic was on board fixing it.  It should only take a few minutes. 

One hour later, he finished, and the pilot said he had to log the technical work, which would only take a few minutes.

10 minutes later, we began to move for the runway.  Where we stopped, because we had missed our turn and now had to wait for an opening to take off.  Should only be a few minutes, the pilot said.

15 minutes later, we zoomed into the sky, and I was concerned that I would miss my connecting flight in Dallas.  I only had a 70 minute layover, and we were already delayed almost 90.  I watched MAMMA MIA! on my video iPod and imagine everyone in the plane singing along.  When we landed, the pilot came on the speaker and said we had lost our gate, and the airport was assigning us a new one.  Groans all over the craft, as everyone, it seemed, had connecting flights. 

10 minutes later:  "Well," the pilot said over the speaker, "the good news is, we have a gate assignment.  The bad news is it's on the other side of the terminal, so we have to taxi over there.  Should only take a few minutes." 

20 minutes later, the entire group of passengers were dog-faced and disappointed.  Everyone had missed their flights.  The flight attendants didn't say "Thank you" as we left.  They didn't dare. 

I got over to my gate, and of course, the plane was gone.  The gate attendant was helping a cute Asian guy with a rockin' butt, and I heard her tell him that he was on the 2:45 flight.  He left, and I explained my situation.  "I can put you down as 'standby' on the 1:45 flight," she said, "but if you don't get on, the next flight I can book you on isn't until 5:20.  I just gave the last 2:45 seat to the guy in front of you."  She assured me that my chances for getting on the 1:45 flight were good, but if not, I would have to hang around the Dallas airport for almost 5 hours!  I went to the gate and as luck would have it, I was in my seat less than 5 minutes when the gate attendant called my name and told me I had gotten on the flight.  Hazzah! 

On the way to Chicago, I watched the original WAR OF THE WORLDS, and after we landed, I made the same mistake as last year and took a cab to my hotel in rush hour.  It was a 90-minute, $45 cab ride. 

At the Hard Rock Hotel, a very nice young woman checked me in, joking about my two names.  I told her she was probably going to run into that a lot over the next couple of days, and she gave me my key card.  Room 2601. 

I had graciously been upgraded to a Tower suite.  Every room had huge windows that looked out into office buildings.  You opened the door and there was a short hallway with a desk.

Turning the corner, the first thing you see was the living room couch.

Across from the windows was the TV and mini-bar.

Next to the hallway was the bar, with two complimentary bottles of fizzy water and a small tray of fruit: strawberries, blackberries, raspberries and apples.  The card from the hotel manager invited me to "rock out with my cock out!"

The tub was a bit small, but I would use it Sunday night.  You can't see the shower door, but it was floor to ceiling and solid glass.

I didn't get a shot of the bed, but here's a corner of the bedroom.

I unpacked with a frenzy and almost immediately got a text from STACY BRIDGES telling me about a private industry party at the Lucky Horseshoe, so I changed clothes and headed down there.  In the back room, I saw several familiar faces, including those of TREVOR KNIGHT and JASON SPARKS.  We chatted for a bit, then headed over to Hydrate for CHI CHI LARUE'S Skin Trade party.  Inside, I was greeted by some fans who wanted pictures, autographs and gossip about the models.  I ran into WOLF HUDSON, ERIC WEST, JEREMY BILDING, SAN DIEGO TOM, TROY from Falcon and others.

Soon, I needed a break from the music and went outside, where the Wolf Hudson/Eric West Comedy Hour was in full swing: