When I was a child, my sister and I dreaded "leftovers" for dinner.  My Nana, living through The Great Depression, didn't throw away a morsel of anything.   To glamorize "leftovers" and make them more appealing, she made up a word:  Couquet Buffet.

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At a Couquet Buffet, Nana would assemble a mishmash of foods that needed to be eaten before they spoiled.  She would then announce the Couquet Buffet featured attractions with her best Julia Child impersonation.  Jennie and I were hooked by the theatrics and gobbled everything up like good little girls.  Until we were teenagers and figured out that this whole Couquet Buffet thing was a bunch of smoke and mirrors.

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Today, I present to you a Couquet Buffet of my final day in Chicago.

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photo:  Field Day at the Conference!  Yes, I blew bubbles at my table during one of the presentations.  How fun is that?

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One of my fav colleagues (<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2011/06/16/day-259-show-stopper/" target="_blank"><strong>and adopted mother</strong></a>) flew in just in time for lunch and a couple of hours of laughter during the final sessions.

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I'm used to navigating travel and airports solo.  It's a great change of pace to travel with other peeps.  You have a built-in support system who watches your stuff when you need to run to the restroom and shares their water with you when you suddenly feel parched in the security line.

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I discovered that one of my colleagues was going to skydive on a second date over the weekend!  Whoa.  I shared my disclaimer on my 365 project:  Won't skydive or swim with sharks, but other than that, I'm open!  My colleague mentioned that she's swam with sharks.  She needs to start a blog.

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photo:  Goodbye posh, hotel room!  Westin, yes, your beds are indeed heavenly.  But...I enjoyed two of my best hotel sleeps EVER at the <a href="http://www.marriott.com/hotels/travel/chijw-jw-marriott-chicago/" target="_blank"><strong>JW Marriott in Chicago</strong></a>.  (JW Marriott, what's your bed secret???  The mattress, pillows, and comforter were divine.)

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I have a reputation for befriending strangers on planes and taxi cab drivers.  I like to hear people's "stories" and what makes them tick.  Taxi drivers are particularly intriguing because generally they hail from different countries and cultures.

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My taxi driver on this day arrived in Phoenix via Iran three years ago.  He knew no English at the time, and he didn't know how his Masters in Agriculture would transfer to a job here.  He came to the U.S. on a leap of faith and a dream.  He now speaks nearly perfect English, works two jobs (also a pharmacy tech at Walgreens) and is putting himself through school to earn a 3rd degree in nuclear medicine.  I also learned about his wife, her studies, his family, and his dog.  All in a twenty minute ride home from the airport.

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Upon exiting the cab, he shook my hand, looked me in the eye, and thanked me for my tip.  How refreshing that there was no sense of entitlement.  Instead, a heartfelt thank you and a very real appreciation.

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God Bless America.

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