Friday, October 7, 2011

On Chicago, old friends, veal brains, and zoo porn

Chicago. I love it. IloveitIloveitIloveit.

Me and Chicago, we go way back. Most of my past visits are a bit blurry thanks to my dementia and the fact that I didn't have a blog in those days to record things in, but I still have snapshots in my head that tell me I've been there so I'm going with it. Once in college, I went with my roommate (a native) and we snuck into the Signature Lounge in the John Hancock Tower because we were 19 and looked about twelve and wanted to see the view. I remember going another time with a volunteer group and tutoring inner city kids and seeing Cabrini Green pre-demolishment (we weren't allowed out of the van) and all the little girls I worked with wanting to know 'Why I ain't got no baby?' And then, years later, I road-tripped through

But this time it was different--I wasn't staying with friends and I couldn't afford to be a lazy planner. I had to pay attention. Chicago became a whole new city to me because of this, and I absolutely fell in love. Not a little credit is due to a wonderful reunion with old friends at a 30th birthday party, around which this entire weekend was centered. (I never miss 30th birthday parties. Especially when the birthday girl is an award-winning black belt.) 

(That's her. Behind the waffle.) 

We had a blast together: we went to the Lincoln Park Zoo, had lunch at Hot Doug's (more on that in the next post because omg! hot dogs!), followed by dinner at the Publican (holy veal brains, batman! So...creamy...), and capped off the whole day with the Blue Man Group. 

(Not pictured: Blue Man Group.)

Have you been to the Lincoln Park Zoo? If not, you should. It's free. I think that's the best part. I'm not really a fan of zoos in general (not because of anything noble, I just think animals are dull when all they do is pace and sleep), but I'll take a free zoo any day. Especially a free zoo featuring zebras molesting one another, which this one did. It was pretty much the greatest thing I've ever seen in my life. I couldn't get my camera out fast enough to capture the wholly one-sided amorous encounter, but I did get a snapshot of the aftermath: 

This is what shame looks like. 

It was fantastic.

I've got to go now--classes began this week and they are NOT messing around. Among other things, I have to research workstations* for a design project and make a giant poster on materials and processes. I know you're all going to clamour for a copy of that poster when I'm done, but I'm sorry to say it's not for sale. You're just going to have to figure out how to cast non-ferrous metals on your own.

I miss you tons. 

Big hugs and lots of love,

*Does anybody happen to know a designer or architect in London that I can talk to about their workspace? Anybody?


  1. i love the zebra photo, and the 'post rumble' matted hair. 

  2. Oh dear - I know of a now-freelance artist (although she used to work for Damian Hirst) and an accoutant who works inhouse for an architectural firm...I do well on six-degrees :P
    I'm afraid the only architect I know is Italian and based in Venice!!! 

  3. So now you've got me wanting to see said workstation poster...

  4. Ha! In that case I'm in good company because I do well on seven degrees! (Isn't that always the way...)

  5. If it turns out the way I want it, I'll definitely post it here! I saw an example of one they liked from last year and it was AMAZING. 

  6. For a materials and processes poster. ;) 

  7. Guess I should pay more attention as I was actually there at said Zebra-incident.  I remember being amused and then looking around for children who would be affected by the - umm  - situation.  I was relieved it was just infants and their parents THEN I saw a group of 8-10 year olds just staring.  Traumatized? Dunno.

    That was a fun day.  

    Good luck with your classes.  

    I too want to see said poster.

  8. erm... your future brother in law - director of big architect company i n london?

  9. ha! Already tapped that fount and it was BRILLIANT.