I am in Chicago for 24 hours of top secret, high-level, fascinating, groundbreaking and stunning meetings concerning advertisers and Bravo. You wouldn't believe what's going on in these meetings if I told you, but I can't.

The W on Lakeshore is abuzz with a convention of some sort. People are in name tags with their first name really BIG in caps and their last name small, a sad afterthought. I love that style nametag, and looked around for an ANDY (cohen) tag when I got back last night but there was none. I took a run by the lake at sunset yesterday. It is like a beach, but it is not really a beach. I guess it is, I don't know. There's sand and volleyball and little waves and guys in board shorts and stuff, so I guess it is a beach.

I got in a fight with the concierge when he kept directing me to "the beach" for my run. I told him that I thought we were landlocked and I didn't recall an ocean anywhere. That did not go over well with the concierge. I got into it with someone at dinner about the same topic.