Things I learned this weekend: Chicago Edition

I had to get up real early for my flight on Saturday, which was especially difficult since I had slept for roughly 14 minutes the night before. I woke up at 2 in the morning to Boo attempting to break down our front door, and didn't fall back to sleep for hours. I don't know what he was trying to achieve, but he was definitely successful at annoying the shit out of me.

So cute though.

Needless to say, I was up in time for my flight. Good thing, too, since Google calendar was of no help to me this weekend. My flights had been automatically added to my calendar, but of course, they were in Eastern Standard Time. So, since booking my flight, I thought that I would be arriving in Chicago at 10 am (I arrived at 9), and that I would leave at 7 pm (I left at 6). This is because there are these things called time zones, and apparently Chicago is far enough away to be in a different one. Who knew? Luckily, I made it there and back without a problem.

Shortly after I arrived, I went out to brunch with my friends/hosts where I ordered breakfast nachos. Technically, they were called chilaquiles, but I'm white, so I'm appropriating them for you. Did you know that there is a bounty of delicious Mexican food in Chicago? That's the second thing I learned this weekend. The first being time zones.  Surprisingly, I did not any eat any deep dish pizza nor hot dogs while I was there. But I did drink a ton of delicious beer, and that's what's important.

On Saturday night, my friend and I went to see a show at Second City. It was hilarious and edgy, but it wasn't actually improv, as I had hoped.  Now that I'm, like, a professional improviser (read: I pay hundreds of dollars to take classes on how to LARP in front of an audience), I want to see improv everywhere.  Regardless, the show was very well done and actually professional.

On Sunday night, I went to WGCI's Big Jam, which featured a number of artists including Meek Mill, Kendrick Lamar, and Monica - as in, The Boy is Mine, Monica. Truthfully, I didn't know she still existed, but she put on a great performance. I was going to riot if she didn't sing "Angel of Mine", so thankfully she did.

Speaking of almost rioting, WGCI DJs kept telling the crowd to tweet at them for a chance to see their tweets on the jumbo-tron. It is an absolute travesty that this was one was not chosen:

For those of you who don't know, Yazz is a rapper (and also a type of birth control).  And that tweet is a lie. I was just being modest.

Anyway, I was pretty surprised that so many people cared about Meek Mill and more surprised that so few people stayed to see Kendrick Lamar. Then again, I was also no less than a decade older than everyone around me, so maybe I don't know what's cool anymore. Related: I sat down for most of the show.

After such a big night out, I took it easy the next day, exploring Chicago on my own. I spent most of the day at the Art Institute of Chicago, which is impressive since I don't really care about art. Here's a selection of my favorite pieces:

I call this one "Playa, please."

I call this one, "Beetlejuice".

I call this one "One Night Stand" because it looks like the guy has quietly gathered up his clothing and is surreptitiously trying to ghost before she wakes up.

I call this one, "Stephen Hawking".  

This one is legitimately called "Woman", which gives me the sense that Miro was probably not a feminist. 

This one would make a perfect welcome mat.

I spent the rest of my time eating donuts and wandering around different parts of the city. I guess I looked pretty comfortable because three people came up to me on the street to ask me for directions. It made me realize that, next time someone does that to me in Boston, I can just lie and say, "I'm not from around here," and they'll leave me alone. #NewEnglandHospitality

Til next time, Chicago!

That Time Steve Harvey Wanted Me on His Talk Show

I thought I had made it. I really had. I got an email from a producer at NBC who said she had read my blog. I immediately thought to myself: They want me to write for SNL! I should quit my job! I need to get an apartment in New York! This is all happening so fast!

He knows what women want.

In reality, the only thing that was happening so fast was my thought process. She was actually writing on behalf of the Steve Harvey Show, which is apparently a new piece of daytime television, and "doing extremely well!" Whatever that means. According to its website, it's been on air for approximately two weeks.

Anyway, she asked if I would like to be on the show for one of their new segments called, "United Dates of America."  I'd be set up on three dates and they'd be filmed and then Steve Harvey would critique them. I'm assuming she thought I might be a good fit for this segment considering much of my blog consists of dating and also not dating and also what it's like to have a cat.

The problem is, she left out something really important, something I discovered when I went to the website for more information. What Steve really wanted was to feature me as ONE OF THE WORST DATERS IN AMERICA.

Apparently Steve is a relationship guru, and he wants to HEAL me. Cheese and crepes! I mean I know I'm single and whatever, but like, worst dater in America? I don't think I would go that far.

So, after much deliberation, I decided that I didn't really want to be humiliated on national television, especially by someone, who I can only assume is a sexist asshole:

(Spoiler alert: gay men aren't real.)

Anyway, I imagine his advice on dating would be something along the lines of "keep your mouth shut and look pretty." We would have gotten along really well.

(Note: A few weeks ago I also thought I made it because someone at a Jewish online newspaper also found my blog and asked me to write for them. As it turns out, they thought I was Jewish. So that didn't work out...)

Chi-Town

So, I'm in love with Chicago. It took about one hour of being there for me to come to that conclusion. The city is just absolutely gorgeous. It's clean and everyone is friendly. However, the friendliness is not something I'm used to, nor is it something I adopt. In fact, I involuntarily started talking shit to a White Sox fan on the street because the Red Sox just so happened to win that night. I don't know why I did it, especially since I'm normally talking shit about the Red Sox.

Some highlights from the trip:

1. Sluggers. This is maybe the best bar I've ever been to. Not only does it have a dueling piano bar, but more importantly, it also has batting cages and an arcade. Skee ball + beer = a dream come true. We need something like this in Boston. And yes, I know the Greatest Bar has skee ball machines, but the Greatest Bar is actually the Worst Fucking Bar, so it does not compare to Slugger's.

2. Cheap cabs. These also don't exist in Boston.

3. The art and architecture. We took an architecture tour, which was awesome. Our tour guide was brilliant and also quite talented. He played a little Chicago Blues for us during the tour. We also really loved the bean. We spent at least 30 minutes there taking photos of ourselves. Hipsters.

The fingerprints make it look like I have liver spots.

4. Garrett popcorn. This shit changed my life. I never thought I cared that much about popcorn. I also never thought I would ever want to eat cheese popcorn in general, let alone combined with caramel popcorn, but god was I wrong. So completely wrong. I want to eat it all day, every day.

Incredible edibles.

While pretty much everything about Chicago was amazing, there were of course a few setbacks (although I would not blame any of them on the city itself):

1. At Sluggers, the best bar ever, a guy came up to me while I was sitting at a table having a nice conversation with my friends. He grabbed my hands out of my lap and started talking to me. I couldn't hear what he was saying so I just said, "Yeah, they're really small," assuming that he was talking about my carni-like hands. (My friend once told me they would be perfect for "reaching into a ferris wheel and fixing it.") But apparently he was not commenting on my miniature hands; instead, he was checking to see if I was wearing a wedding ring. Obviously, I was not, so he tried pulling me to the dance floor, saying that since I'm not married, I have no excuse not to dance.  I could think of  approximately 1,000 reasons to not dance, but I just firmly told him "No." Actually, I shouted it in his face because he would not get the point. He kept grabbing my hands and trying to pull me toward him. Essentially, I was manHANDled. Finally, he left me alone but I still felt the need to duck and cover whenever he walked by.

2. Having to wait two hours for everyone to get ready. Although, this did result in the best picture I've ever taken of myself ever. Something you may not know about me is that I typically spend 2-3 minutes every day making weird faces in the bathroom mirror, so I had a lot of practice for this one:

This is not photo-shopped. This is raw talent.

3.  One night, while we were at dinner, I got up to use the bathroom and this blond woman, who looked like she could be a real housewife of the midwest, stopped me and said, "Could you get me some more butter?" No, ma'am, I cannot because I don't work here. But I can see how you would be confused since the waitstaff is all male and wearing vests and ties and I'm a petite girl in a fucking dress. So, sorry I won't be doing you any favors. And neither will butter. Boom.

Anyway, the whole time we were there, my friends and I were raving about how we want to live there someday. Some of my friends were so excited about Chicago that they started hating on Boston:

Friend (in regards to Great Chicago Fire and the resulting unity): I wish we had something to be proud of like that.
Me: We do. It's called the AMERICAN REVOLUTION.

Never forget.