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America's Dairyland

Wanda & Sean's Cake

Cheese and beer—Wisconsin's claim to fame. Mmmmmm . . . I sampled both this weekend in Milwaukee. J.P. and I drove up from Chicago for my cousin's wedding. We had a few unexpected adventures before we left town this morning.

We shared a two-bedroom suite with my sister, her husband, and their three kids. The hotel was nice. They had a pool where the kids spent hours, free wireless internet access, free breakfast including freshly-made Belgian waffles (never mind that you had to make them yourself), and a complimentary manager's reception every night where they had free beer, wine, and mixed drinks. Not bad, huh?

We chose the hotel because of its proximity to the reception, but also because of all the awesome aforementioned amenities (how's that for alliteration?). Know what I realized as I lay awake at 3:30 Saturday morning? None of the other stuff matters if the bed is crap. You know what it's like—a full-size bed that seems too small for two people, a mattress that's worn to the point that you have to cling to the edges to keep from rolling into the chasm in the center, and thin sandpaper sheets that slip off the corners of the mattress and bunch up underneath you so that every 15 minutes you have to throw your body into the air while simultaneously pulling the uncooperative sheet back into place.

And poor J.P. spent more than 24 straight hours in that awful bed. Since the room was in our name, we wanted to arrive before my sister's family on Friday night. So we didn't stop anywhere for dinner. When we arrived around 10:00, we were glad to see a Taco Bell right across the street from the hotel. Can you see where this is going? You got it—something in his Mexican pizza wasn't right, and he got food poisoning. We both missed the wedding itself, and I only went to the reception for a few hours. So glad we made the effort to get there!

Thankfully, J.P. was feeling MUCH better this morning. Good thing, too, since we were in four different states today. We woke up in Wisconsin, drove to Illinois, flew to Cincinnati (whose airport is actually in northern Kentucky), and then jumped on a connecting flight to . . . a state to be mentioned later this week.
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