The Windy City

Chicago is fun. The food is good and the neighborhoods are great and the bars are endless. It reminds me a lot of Topeka, except not at all. I didn't get into any bar fights, and Chris didn't have to go out wearing his glasses while rocking the greasy comb-over to make himself look older in case he were to see a client. And there wasn't a red neck Westboro creep holding an "I hate fags" poster anywhere. Quite the opposite, actually. I did see a fag holding a redneck with a sign that said "I hate creeps," but that was different.

We arrived Saturday night and headed to Chris's friend Andy's apartment in Lincoln Park. The apartment was okay, I mean if you're into fancy granite countertops, walk in showers with more shower heads than in most gym locker rooms and rooftop access with a view to the city. Which it turns out, I am into. Don't get me wrong, I love the view I get from my own backyard of 14 other chain link fences with dirt ridden yards and barking mutt dogs everywhere. What's not to love? 

A few drinks later we headed to a "hip bar" in  Wicker Park. Josh Hartnett was nowhere to be seen but it was still a good time never the less. I was so not hip enough to be in the bar we went to, I felt so 2011! What with my silly dark jeans and blazer jacket, I was tres outdated and it was awful! I missed the memo that the dress code for the night involved, well, anything ass ugly and expensive/iwantthistolookcheap looking. Goodwill style. Long flowy skirts, floral print anything and I even saw a pair of actual Saddle shoes! Saddle shoes can you believe it? I didn't know those were made pass 1992, or in sizes not meant for just four year old metrosexual little boys. To make matters even more confusing, the live band/Dj was playing all 50s music. So people were doing the "twist" and the "jitter bug." Not a grinder in sight. I seriously didn't know if I was completely wasted or if I had crossed into some sort of weird time warp. I suddenly felt like I was in an episode of Mad Men, I was Peggy and was out in Greenwich with my lesbian reporter friend drinking PBR's and discussing politics and marijuana. And I was loving it, time warps are great. Unfortunately 2011 was creeping up on us and it was time to leave when the cell phones struck 2:00 a.m. So we left the 1950s and traveled back to Lincoln Park, a land full of Trader Joes and Starbucks. I'm not kidding anyone, there's no way I'd be cool enough to actually spend more than a night in the Ukrainian Village, I drive a Camry. And I voted for McCain. Lincoln Park is A okay with me. I'll take an overpriced coffee at a Starbucks over a local overpriced coffee any day. And as for my shitty grunge clothes, I prefer to buy them at Urban. I'll leave the musty smoke smell to the authentic Goodwill pieces.

But it's hard to return to Peker. It just seems so wide open and blah. The only time warp I experience here is by going to Gordmans. And a time of painted wood crafts as home decor, bean bag chairs, and Tweety Bird shower curtains is not a time I care to revisit. Oh well. At least I have my Bday to look forward to. One week and counting until I'm 24. Yup, living the good life as a 24 year old in Topeker in my rental house a block away from Westboro Church. Only the best for this gal.