Real World: Chicago

Phew! Back from vacay in the Windy City, where I hung with Jen, Kristalyn and Jeffy in the tres-chic neighborhood of Lincoln Park, home to the well-dressed and world-weary.

It was Fucking Awesome.

A sample itinerary, because I really have to go to bed, and some select quotes.

WED: Depart BWI 9:30. Arrive CHI 10:20. Fumble with train ticket, ride to apartment, drop stuff, drink and catch up with Jeff and Jenn at the Beaumont [a returning player in the weekend’s events].

THU: Lunch on the Chicago River at Sorriso’s with Kris and Jeff. Shopping on the Magnificent Mile. Slobbering at Urban Outfitters. Dinner at BW3 with J,J, and K. Later: Drinks at Uffa, where the dark and mysterious Sergio played a wobbly rendition of a DMB song. Several more drinks at Kinky’s — oh, about five more drinks, eckshully. Tried to pick up boys for my friends, my duty as The Married One. Had several interesting conversations. By the end of our stay there, I was being dragged kicking and screaming from someone I believed to be Jason Lee.

Much later: Eighth and final drink at The Beaumont. Then home, somehow, where I puked and passed out.

FRI: The worst hangover since sophomore year of college. Train to Taste of Chicago downtown, where we gorged ourselves on the best dishes Shy-town has to offer and caught Erykah Badu singing. In the evening, a hike to Boystown where we tipped a few back at Roscoe’s.

SAT: PrideFest in the AM … lovely Dykes on Bykes booth. Then a nap, and a guilty screening of Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle. Rounded out the evening with drinks and dancing at the Beaumont [Chicago’s most versatile bar, apparently]. Busted moves to Vanilla Ice and the likes. A hideously drunk boy offered to make out with me and then pretty much fell down. Kris and I did shots of Jager, which mostly ended up on my shirt. We stumbled home at 4:30 a.m., had an impossibly deep and meaningful conversation, and passed out.

SUN: Hangover time, yet again. Soothed with Chicago-style pizza and the series finale of Dawson’s Creek. Depart CHI at 9:30. Arrive BWI at 12:30. Arrive home at 2:30. Fall asleep.

Helpful words and phrases:
“So I says to Mabel ….”
“Speaking of sheep …”
“Peanuts!”
“I hope not sporadically…”
“Meanwhile …”
“What!?!”
“Jokes! Jokes …”

It was an inside job. We had fun. I haven’t partied that hard in a long time.

In other news: I got a letter and a phone call from Iain today. He’s been out in the Wyoming woods since last Saturday. He sounds like he’s doing well.

Dear lord, I miss him. That’s part of what Chicago was good for: taking my mind off it … in addition to expanding friendships and poking Jeff in the ribs.

OK, must go flagellate myself in contrition for the Sins of Culture i committed … Vogue, Cosmo, a McG movie, The Gap, heavy drinking, picking on the beautiful people, lusting after Cynthia Rowley dresses, Dawson’s Creek, MTV HITS, VH1 …

I’m sick of being a hippie-snob. I miss being a girl. Being a girl was fun, dammit.