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uterusclub · 5 years

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The very moment we discovered Moulin Rouge was being made into a stage production, we KNEW we had to see it! Unfortunately, the debut occurred in Boston, which well, was expensive to fly to, but we were also, unsure of the ‘reviews’ for the show. It was decided, thereafter that whence it went to Broadway in NYC, we would make the trek. Thus, our adventure begins . . .

Our kick-off to NYC was not without it’s complications. My parents, fortunately, informed us that ‘work’ was being done on the blue line and therefore, offered a ride to an open station with which to catch the ‘el to the blue, then orange line (damn you Southwest for being so damn far). Rousing at 2:30 a.m. was fairly delirious due to Christmas Eve-ed sleep but we rallied as best we could and eventually arrived at Midway Airport with approximately 1/2 hour until boarding. It is at this point; we thanked the transportation Gods or rather, ourselves, for being pre-check TSA members as we quite literally waltzed through security in a matter of minutes. Booyah! Chicago to New York travel time is not terrible – approximately 2 hours. We amused ourselves by using the on-flight, Wi-Fi entertainment to watch Crazy Rich Asians, which was good enough to pass the time.

Off the plane and on our way to public transportation, I left all the work to Sharon who had watched a video about catching buses from the airport to travel into the city. First step, get a ticket to catch a bus to a connecting bus/train. Next – get on appropriate bus to take us to . . . oh wait – is this the correct bus? Yep, immediate confusion. Sharon’s phone kept re-routing which caused her ultimate reaction to be ‘let’s just go one more stop’ as we could see our pinpoint on a map begin to divert from our destination. Long story short, we got off in, who knows where, and caught an Uber already housing a very nice couple who bid us well in our travels once they departed.

We were dropped off at our first, essential stop – a gift and luggage store in Times Square to relieve ourselves of our burdensome baggage. Sketch-tastic to say the least but the concern grew less worrisome as we noticed a multitude of said shops along the streets of Times Square. Luggage-free, we headed to our first endeavor: Madame Tussauds Wax Museum! There was quite a line outside but surprisingly, it moved along quickly and we entered without a hitch (thanks Groupon). Naturally, we grabbed a bunch of awesome pictures – despite the fact that I was unfamiliar with a good portion of the figures we observed. It was delightful surprise to see a commemoration of Cats since we’d seen the production recently (refer to previous blog), however the best part of the entire exhibit was most definitely the Phantom of the Opera shtick where you could pretend you were singing as Christine and also stand/sit on a fake chandelier! Let me not forget the mirror maze as well which, at one point, I lost Sharon and careened into glass with my phone on several occasions.

Following our wax museum adventure, we walked next door to the conveniently situated Ripley’s exhibit (again, thanks Groupon). Now I’ve never, personally been a huge fan of these since I don’t care to reach much but I guess this is a Sharon nostalgia thing. In any case, it was pseudo interesting. We took a few pictures and Sharon disappointingly found a Zoltare machine that provided no physical fortune. There was a cool, trippy, tunnel in the middle of the exhibit, which was cool for a minute but nothing to write home about (irony). Towards the end of our walk through, it became pretty apparently that we were both STARVING. We had made reservations at a little French restaurant down the street; however, we were a bit early but proceeded there anyway.

Le Rivage was our first food stop for our trip! I did minimal research on this place but based on location, reviews, and the fact that they did a show pre-fix meal option, was pretty much sold. We were both pleasantly surprised that the restaurant appeared casual and ‘classic’ – if that makes sense. This place was definitely not ‘hopping’ and had a more ‘old-school’ feel to it that we both dig. Upon being seated at our table, I noticed a can-can picture in an adjoining seating area and made my way over there to grab some pictures. We pre-faced our meals with mimosas and indulged in a French Onion Soup Burger and Boeuf Bourguignon – both DELICIOUS! Swooning in culinary satisfaction, it was now time to get MORE physical uncomfortable. Up to this point, I have failed to mention our ingenious plan on packing our Moulin Rouge-designated outfits in our purses. A much-debated discussion, it made much more sense to dress sensibly for the plane ride and then change into said outfits right before the show – especially since mine involved a tulle skirt and corset! Post-meal, we both took turns walking downstairs to the restroom to change. I’m not sure how Sharon’s transition went but it was quite the production getting in a corset and tulle shirt in a tiny, bathroom stall. Once I excited the stall and begin adding my accessories at the sink, an older lady entered and quite literally gawked at me. She complimented me and just continued to stare before mentioning that she’d heard the producer of the movie Moulin Rouge raved that the stage production was ‘spectacular.’ Transition complete, I headed upstairs to rejoin Sharon and was met with silenced stares all around the dining room. Quite honestly, I did NOT think the outfit was THAT unusual. It probably didn’t help that I was filming the entire area for the duration of the stare-down. Almost felt like I should have choreographed something as part of my exit! Next time.

Get-ups secured, we were now set and ready for Moulin Rouge situated just about a block or two down the street. It was about an hour til show time but upon arriving at the Al Hirschfield Theatre, there was already a line down the block. For the next 40ish minutes, we stood in line with beaming hot sun and bellowing scalpers antagonizing our wills to live. At one point, I peered into the restaurant we stood outside of and saw a girl conveniently dressed in what I’d consider Moulin Rouge attire. She would eventually be seated nearby us like some groupie conspiracy. Once inside the theatre, complete chaos ensued. Sharon immediately went to grab some very expensive sippy-cupped drinks while I perused the gift-shop area – convinced I would pay anything for something Moulin Rouge-inspired. But a $100 hoodie was not in my budget. So I opted for a magnet. When we finally entered the seating area, our minds and eyes were BLOWN! The stage was BEYOND gorgeous! I was most impressed and grateful that everyone was allowed to take as much video and pictures as they liked – although that eventually became annoying when we attempted to take a selfie with no one in the background (impossible)! We received MANY compliments on our outfits and ended up sitting towards some like-minded Moulin Rouge fans who raved about it being their favorite movie. As the minutes neared show time, performers began slowly slinking about the stage in scantily clad outfits – staring Legolasy at the audience.

Once the show was underway, it was magic – but with some drawbacks. Sharon and I would later have a full-blown, extended conversation about the show but to summarize our feelings on it, it could have been better or perhaps, different. As purists, we honestly just wanted a replication of the movie on stage. This, was not as such. The main story line was there, sure, but the adaptation felt a bit forced – almost TOO much freedom was taken with it, I fear. To be more specific and assuming you’re familiar with the movie, the original does throw-backs to a few contemporary songs. This show took that concept and multiplied it by a thousand ie there were a lot MORE snippets of a lot more RECENT songs which, again, I feel lost any sense of integrity. Every time a throw-back clip was initiated, audience members laughed in recognition, which to me, makes a mockery of the movie. Sharon internally lost her shit when Satine began singing Katy Perry’s ‘Firework’ and I couldn’t agree more. I wont knock it and say there weren’t SOME good additions – for instance, Christian singing Gnarls Barkley’s ‘Crazy’ but all in all, it didn’t work for either of us and I’m fairly sure we were the only ones in the theatre feeling that way.

With a slightest defeatist attitude, we made our way back to the gift and luggage store to re-burden ourselves with our belongings. It was at this point, Sharon realized one of the wheels on her luggage bag was defective and not moving. Scraping her back down the street, she ultimately began carrying her entire case in her arms like a massive, dumb baby. While we were, fortunately, not going too far, the walk, still in our uncomfortable outsides, felt long. We eventually arrived at our next stop: Bibble & Sip which is an ADORABLE coffee/tea/pastry shop that is Alpaca themed! With the combination of luggage frustration and scrunchiness, Sharon remained in the distance while I got in line to grab some goods to go. I opted for a Good Luck Hazelnut Alpaca dessert and Black and White Mouse cake which were, oh my god, AMAZING!!

Our desserts weren’t consumed until we arrived at our Airbnb which again, was trekked to under blistering heat, faulty luggage and air-constricting clothing. But we made it! Sharon had found this joint situated at 50th and 3rd Avenue in East Manhattan. The ‘renter’ was a Japanese man who, based off of the amount of signage and locks on things, appeared to be a bit OCD but it tolerable. We had a bed and couch, ability to access a/c and well, minimal tv capabilities. All in all, not a bad set-up and for the price and location, no complaints! After arriving, we changed and ‘regrouped’ for a minute before deciding NOT to venture out for a late-night, rooftop silent-disco we had acquired tickets for. Instead, we decided to slum it for the remainder of the evening – and by ‘slumming,’ I mean grabbing drinks and getting some dinner.

During the course of our very, extensive research, one of us had come across a place called Ophelia Lounge that was conveniently located a few blocks from our Airbnb. We headed there for a celebratory, evening drink and were very impressed with the elevated view, delicious cocktails and unpretentious hospitality! We had only wished it had been later in the evening for an even more spectacular, night view. Following our drinks, we attempted to pre-order our food for pick-up but the restaurant we called was busy so we walked over to Hide-Chan for ramen that I’d read wonderful things about. The restaurant was confusingly situated next to another Asian restaurant that we accidentally venture into first. We then headed next door to the ascending stairway at which time, the hostess informed us they didn’t do ‘take away’ requests. Huh. Odd. We then asked if the adjoining restaurant was there was well but couldn’t exactly make out the response but upon going next door, the men was most definitely, NOT ramen. We then decided it was in our best interest to hike back UP the stairs and just eat there and I’m very glad we did. This was the first time I’d ever seen/ordered garlic butter edameme and it was AMAZING! This was also the first time I’d been asked about the firmness level and shape of my noodles. In any case, food was STELLAR. My only complaint would be the SUPER boisterous, young Asian men seated next to us who were having the time of their LIVES! Ramen in bellies, we headed home and passed the eff out. Day one = complete!

The next morning, we roused fairly early with plans of walking to Central Park, which was about 30 minutes away. After heading out, we grabbed coffee at a Dunkin Donuts and made our away to Central Park Zoo to see their red pandas and penguin feeding. The zoo, while quaint, was comfortable and their employees, very helpful. While in line for our tickets, Sharon inquired if there were any bats and were told yes! Making our rounds once inside, we up the bats first which was nothing short of a glassed, dark room with flittering figures. At one point, I asked Sharon to use her phone flashlight to see if the bats were hanging on the ceiling and sure enough, they were! Walking clock-wise, we hit up the red pandas next but sadly, saw nothing. We continued on our way to came across the seals that were super adorable and rambunctious. We then circled back to the red pandas and were pointed out one, hidden and barely moving, shrouded in foliage. Our last stop off was the children’s petting zoo, which contained guess what – an Alpaca – and some sheep’s that were cool. Sharon was offended the Alpaca walked away from her after supplying some food.

After our fill of animals, we now headed through Central Park in order to see Belvedere Castle. On the way, Sharon bought a hot dog from a vendor who attempted to up-charge her. She was offended with both the hot dog and the altercation. Once we reached the castle, we were both pretty underwhelmed. The joint was swarming with people and it was a clusterfuck attempting to ascend the narrow, winding staircase to get to the view-top. Continuing on our way through the park, we were now headed towards Astro West Fine Minerals, Fossils and Meteorites shop, however finding an exit out of the park became problematic. We kept walking, soaked in our own, hot juices, for what felt like forever. On several occasions I suggested scaling the walls in order to reach actual ‘street.’ And of course, once we asked where an exit was, it was a few feet ahead of us.

Making our way to the streets, we eventually found Astro West Fine Minerals, Fossils and Meteorites, which, our sole purpose was to split a geode for a souvenir. I had called the shop a few days prior to inquire if they had an ‘abundant’ available since I’d read complaints about them being out of stock. When we arrived, there were maybe 15 available – all ugly blobs situated inside a marked barrel. I selected one based off solely based on its symmetry and we watched the machine in action that was really just a glorified saw. Once split, the attendant showed us the inside which he described as a ‘light blue.’ I’d describe it as a bunch of bullshit, personally. Definitely NOT worth $25. But I guess you win some, you lose some.

Next on the agenda was Grand Central Station. Arriving in style via Uber, we immediately made our way upstairs to the Campbell Bar, which is allegedly haunted. Our bartender was pretty awesome and gave us some free shots. The decor was outstanding. To keep on schedule, we then headed back downstairs to find the Jacque Torres Chocolate shop on ground level. On our way, I caught an amazing ceiling in my peripheral view and followed it to an outstanding, horoscopial view! We then continued on our original journey, found the chocolate shop and nibbled on some free samples before grabbing another Uber for our next venture!

Remember Stomp? Yes, I know, it’s definitely been a minute. I haven’t thought or heard of it in a very long time but it is most definitely alive and kicking! I should know. We bought tickets. I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect with this show – not that I wasn’t familiar with the basis for the show – but the longevity of its existence made me a bit leery. When we arrived, we were told no photos or videos were allowed. Ok, fine. We took our seats at the far, back end of the theatre but were eventually upgraded for ‘good behavior’ to the second row! Once the show began, I was in COMPLETE awe. I think that a good portion of the show, I was imagining myself a part of it – like, I actually started considering trying to audition for it! I was blown away by the talent and attitudes of all the performers. Everyone appeared to be having such a good time with each other but also as solo performers. Talk about an inspiration! Next time you’re in NYC, definitely make a point to see the show!

Just around the corner from Stomp was our highly anticipated dinner reservation at Beetle House! Which reminds me, I dressed for the occasion – ie I bought and wore green, light-up suspenders for a good portion of the day. In any case, we were far too early upon arrival and as such, loitered outside the restaurant a bit. Eventually we were let in and seated. The restaurant was cool, yes, but very tiny and a bit understated for what I had anticipated. We had both seen video clips promoted the restaurant that entailed costumed performers. We saw none of this, which sure, it was still relatively ‘early’ but nonetheless, the emo-inspired work staff didn’t really convey much of a Burton feel to me. Our meal option was a pre-fix appetizer and main course that we were both pretty underwhelmed with. We did order some cocktails, which apparently all come with dry ice for major points for smokey drinks! All in all, disappointed. I’d go back – but only for the drinks.

Following our dissatisfied meal, we then took a transit-commute from hell in hopes of reaching Brooklyn. After being given opposing directions from pedestrians and Sharon’s wonky, ever-changing GPS assistance, we eventually ended up at a witch store and then eventually at Urban Jungle – a thrift store. Again, unimpressed with this underwhelming Ragstock wanna-be, we continued onto Brooklyn Cider House. This place, well, seemingly pleasant, left us wanting in terms of customer service AND cider. Our waiter was less than helpful with recommendations and most of the drink options appeared to be ‘dry.’ As our spirits continued to dwindle, we then headed to the bookend for the evening – Theatre XIV for burlesque! And if you haven’t yet caught the trend, we were again, far too early to be admitted so we walked down the street to a bar called the Johnson for some $6 ‘Painkillers’ ie. frozen, pina colorado concoction. Four drinks later and claw-machine defeated, we were buzzed back to a state of satisfaction. Making our way back to the theatre, we entered and marveled at the Fifty Shaded Wonderland surrounding us.

Adorned to the nines, this show, Queen of Hearts, was eccentric, to say the least! I have NEVER seen such a mind-boggling burlesque show in my LIFE! There were obvious, classically trained dancers involved, not to mention, MANY male performers. Dancing, singing, hooping – there was no end to the extravagances our eyes beheld. Speaking of, we spent a good portion of the show staring at the couple seated in front of us which entailed a very uncomfortably, molesty dude who we could only assume, was sloppy rich. We discussed trying to corner his companion in the bathroom to find out what the deal was but we were both far too lazy. Sharon bought me an expensive, gingery cocktail that was god-awful. We followed up the rest of the night’s consumption with canned ciders from which we both got pretty blitzed! While we awaited our Uber, we saw the aforementioned creepoid with his girl being photographed by police officers. We can only begin to wonder whatever came of them but I’d be very confident picking him out of a lineup. For the duration of our Uber ride home and still beaming from booze, we spent the entire ride arguing over the virtual trivia game situated in the backseat area. Sharon doesn’t recall giving me bad/wrong answers and/or giving me crap for being incorrect but it was boisterous and most likely, very annoying, fun.

Ah, good o’ hungover Monday. Yikes! With a slightly rough-start to the morning, we took our time getting ride in order to avoid the hectic, rush-hour commuter traffic. After pre-GPSing our route, we successfully public transited to Supermoon Bakehouse for some blueberry and Pomegranate croissants! Sharon was mind-blown by this place – simply based on not only the aesthetic peel of their goods but also, the deliciousness! High recommendations for this joint – although, I’d suggest taking your food items to go since the tables and chairs were that of children.

Continuing our route, we now headed towards what would appear to be Chinatown for a confusing stop-off at a gorgeous, Jewish Temple museum called Eldridge Street. I’d literally come across this place during research and noted that Mondays were their pay-what-you-can. Being non-religious and certainly non-Jewish, my interest was all about the glorified ambience and were were NOT disappointed. There was a calm, safe, feel to the temple. Definitely one of the more beautiful things I’d high recommend when visiting NYC.

Next on the roster? Catacombs! Oh but wait, this isn’t what it sounds like, unfortunately. The description was giving us Catacombs by Candlelight, which we both assumed, would somehow involve ghosts. This was not as such. We were met with quasi-interesting, New York history involving politicians and rich families that were memorialized in the underground passageways. The highlight of the tour was the Australian couple we spoke with briefly about koalas – duh. I’m sure under different circumstances (not tired, hung-over, bored, hot, wanting ghost stories), one would find this tour highly interesting (my mother) but ‘twas not as such. The tour even ran a bit over-time so we bounced early to catch an Uber to our lunch at Thai Villa.

I researched this restaurant and loved it solely based on its gorgeousness. Unfortunately, we caught this place during the boisterous, lunch rush and weren’t entirely able to enjoy any sense of calm. We could barely speak due to the deafening sound – including the pretentious, vapid couple next to us. I did not enjoy my pai thai but was also suffering from post-laxative discomfort, to be fair. We ate as quickly as possible and headed out towards the next item of our agenda: Rose Wine Mansion.

Once again, with reservations at 2pm and us far too early, we killed a minute or two buying an I Love New York, pink onesie for Bear (yeah, yeah, he loves it) from a souvenir shop before standing restlessly in line for admittance.

When we were finally hustled in, accompanied by an ear-drum throbbing, security alarm, we took an elevator to the entrance of the exhibit. As we were basically the first people in ‘line,’ we got first dibs on every single room. We also didn’t care too much about the ‘interactive elements’ of most rooms, which killed a lot of time. We pressed on fairly quickly as we are want to do, indulging in our favorite, Cleopatra-endorsed red wine, Banfi Rosa Regale. Case in point, we drank some last night (8/2/2019) as you can buy it at Binny’s (SO good)! Other than that and taking a bunch of free photo-booth pictures post-exhibit, it was a quick in and out for us.

Making our way down the street, we stopped off at the free Houdini Museum situated, strangely, inside a high-rise building. The ‘museum’ was quite small, though we were told it was the second largest in the world. We took a once-around stroll while some magic nerds exchanged card tricks in the center of the room. Disinterest in tact, we caught another Uber with a delightful, Asian man who almost got pulled over for running a light but played off his foreignness to get out of it and eventually showed me his uncompleted dragon tattoo. He dropped us off near Enchantments – an occult store we’ve previously ordered, personalized candles. The store was awesome – cute, black kitties sleeping and hilarious, witchy employees who seems very down to earth. We requested personalized, carved candles and hung out for the duration of their creation. Once obtained, we headed over to one of the many bars on our roster for the afternoon: Mother of Pearl. Hawaiian-themed, this joint, wasn’t, again, open when we arrived so we pre-drank at a hookah lounge down the street. Once we re-attempted Mother of Pearl, was ordered their well-known ‘Shark attack’ drinks which I found unimpressive. I also can’t recall what type of alcohol they entailed but definitely, not my jam. Our bartender though, was pretty awesome.

The evening continued with an Uber back to where we had been for the Rose Mansion for two more bars: The Magic House Rooftop Bar & Lounge and The Fleur Room. Now the Magic House Rooftop Bar & Lounge sounded and looked very impressed from the videos I’d watched. There’s rotating carousal seats, mini-golf and an awesome view. But in all reality, the in-person was not up to snuff. All the carousal seats were ‘reserved,’ the ‘mini golf’ consisted of maybe four rounds revolving around sexified animal statues and the drinks were, well, at least mine, expensive and just terrible. Waste of time and money – not to mention all the effort to actually get UP to the joint! Security is completely elaborate and unnecessary – I felt like the goddamn FBI was running the entire thing! Not a fan. Next up – The Fleur Room. To be fair, we were both kind of at our wit’s end at this point in time. Once we made our way up to the bar, again, beautiful, poshy views and the decor was GORGEOUS but after looking at the drink menu, I just couldn’t do it. I was super over the expensive, elaborate drinks that sounded and inevitably, tasted like garbage. Maybe I’m not sophisticated enough to get the appear or maybe these places are just trying too hard. Either way, we refused to spend more money on drinks we’d end up hating and just took our necessary pictures and videos to supply to ya’ll.

As our final stop-off and NOT on our original agenda (we cut a bunch of stuff), Sharon researched a pizza joint nearby our Airbnb for an easy, chill dinner at the home front. She came across Patsy’s Pizzeria. I called in a large, garlic and cheese pizza for pick-up during which time; a lovely Jamaican woman named Diana who complimented my tattoos and pants accosted me. This woman kept on talking about her brother being a dance choreographer and professional in Milwaukee and eventually tried to network us. I gave minimal interesting and effort in the exchange on account of exhaustion and hunger. Eventually, pizza was on hand and we made it back home to consume said pizza that was actually pretty decent.

Our final day in NYC was quite a doozy. We woke up fairly early and again, killed time to avoid the rush hour, commute traffic. Luggage in tow, we caught some pre-GPS-ed public transit to NYC’s Magic Jewelry to get aura photographs. After once again, standing in line, waiting for the place to open, a little crowd began to form behind us. Eventually, one snap and a brief explanation later, we were done! Side note: Sharon is now obsessed with purchasing the equipment to start her own business. We then walked over to the nearby Ghostbusters Fire Station that became a clusterfuck due to the gapping tour crowd and the fact that the firehouse is ACTIVE. We stood and waited for a truck to pull into it before snapping a few pictures and heading immediately away.

After once again, catching pre-GPS-ed public transit, we now headed towards of lunch-stop: Cafe Colette. This place got awesome reviews and also had beautiful pictures of the inside. When we arrived, the staff obligingly took our luggage from us for storage. I was once again, underwhelmed by the atmosphere, however, the food was definitely on point! Sharon apparently ate some orgasmic chicken sandwich while I consumed some delicious, fish tacos. We were both quite satisfied. Trudging along with our luggage we continued on our way to the Williamsburg Hotel for their Hightea Teapot cocktails we’d seen advertised videos for. When we arrived at the bar, our bartender, Angelo, advised that it was not available during weekdays. After a polite plea by Sharon, he agreed to make us a cocktail anyway which we shared and was MOST delicious! With time to kill and dessert on my brain, I suggested we find a place for dessert. Sharon quickly googled a nearby French pastry shop by the name of Caprices by Sophie. We shared a delightful, chocolate éclair before ultimately deciding that we should forgo any additional, scheduled plans and head straight to the airport.

One very long Uber ride later, we were at LaGuardia several hours early for our flight. Once we again, fast-tracked through security via Pre-check TSA and began to get settled, Sharon noticed our flight had been canceled! And queue confusion and anxiety. Never have I had this happen to me before. As we had already checked into our flight, I was unable to attempt a reschedule on my phone. We ended up lining up at the Southwest desk in order to speak with an attendant. Throughout the chaos, we realized there was an earlier flight boarding for Chicago. With attempts and determining if the flight was booked, Sharon called Southwest and was told, they could not advise as such. We were, safe-net, booked into a later flight that would eventually connect in St. Louis with an arrival in Chicago at midnight; however, we were still hoping to hope on this flight about to leave. Eventually, amidst the chaos and confusion and annoying and anxiety, we were allowed onto the earlier flight home which, with it’s own delays; brought us home at approximately the same time we were originally scheduled to arrival. The hellish commute involved sitting on the runway for takeoff for god knows how long and my discomfort with a very antsy, obnoxious, Alabamian seated next to me. Despite the very, very long commute, the dadness grabbed us at the Montrose blue-line, accompanied with Bear whose distress meowing ironically comforted me. When we reached our wonderful, sweet, home, we showered to rid ourselves of the New York stink, downed some food and barely absorbed some background television.

It’s crazy to think about how fast-paced Chicago is and yet, New York feels even faster! Or perhaps it’s the abundance of things and people and the distance between places that makes it feel so much more arduous. It could also have to do with our inclinations of packing in as much funness as possible into every single trip. Regardless, Chicago was most definitely missed. We were a part of you, New York, New York, but you can keep your hot, street garbage.

Where the Streets Have Hot Garbage The very moment we discovered Moulin Rouge was being made into a stage production, we KNEW we had to see it!

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uterusclub · 5 years

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Hot, Chicago summers are generally, not very fun but somehow, we manage. This past month was nothing short of spectacular – even despite the sweltering, blistering, hell heat. We kicked the month off with a visit to the very critically acclaimed Par-King miniature golf course out in Lincolnshire. Solely based off of the reviews on this place, expectations were HIGH. To ensue extra, satisfaction, I purchased a Groupon for an Indian Restaurant by the name of Marigold Maison through whom we purchased some bag-insulated yummers for dinner. I’ll save you the suspense and tell you the food was not good. Although I’m fairly certain we’ve become tikka masala snobs at this point. Service was super awkward as well as the restaurant has a grocery attached to it with shelved goods that look as though they’d been there for god knows how long. In any case, I wouldn’t venture there ever again. But back to the golfing. We arrived mid-day on a Wednesday in hopes of beating any summer-time crowds. And much to our delight, the place was not busy at all. I will say we were gravely disappointed in the different themed courses that felt very lacking – especially after reading of the reputation of this joint. The literal best thing about the entire course was the ‘roller coaster’ hole which well, Sharon grabbed some awesome video of so be sure to check that out in the montage (shameless plug). I would consider trying it again – maybe with the other course since the ‘cooler’ holes were all on the other game option. Let’s also take into account that Sharon was dealing with some mental and emotional bullshit right before we started playing so she wasn’t exactly in the right mind-set to even attempt enjoying the golf of minisculeness.

And then there was the Fourth of July. Which well, we usually don’t do much for – simply based on the elements of too many people being out and about in the world doing dumb and annoying things. But for some reason or rather, the lure of a Paranormal Circus presenting itself to us, did we become much bolder this year. But I’m getting ahead of myself. The day started off with a bit of work-from-home since I’m commission-based and don’t get PAID on days off. Following that, I believe the boozing commenced which involved a lovely rendition of Berry Vodka reminiscent of snow cone syrup. Following that, we baked some pre-bought chips and ate some previously purchased pasta and potato salads while we vegged on the couch to enjoy the down time.

Once it became a decent hour to leave, we headed out to the Paranormal Cirque located out in Orland Park. I had read that there was a pre-show to the event so of course, we arrived hella early (pun intended). Gates weren’t even open as we reached the mall parking lot where dark tents had been resurrected. Twas quite a strange sight, really. But we enjoyed taking pictures and videos of the tented darkness awaiting us. Once we were finally allowed in, we entered the main tent area where a table was set up selling masks. There was also a face painter in the corner adjacent which I considered partaking in but the artist was taking far way too long for my liking. As we stood around in the main area awaiting this ‘pre-show,’ we noticed a Mad-Max, steam-punk looking little person riding around on an electric wheelchair. She’d speed up close to unsuspecting victims, point her gun and scare creepily at them before slowly backing away. It was cool for the first couple minutes but eventually, we came to the conclusion that there really WAS no pre-show.

After we were finally allowed into the show arena, we met several, random performers who were entertaining, yes, but nothing extravagant. Once seated in our front-row elitist-ship, we watched a little person clown walk around and harass random people. He quite enjoyed throwing popcorn at me. As the time dwindled on, we become more and more annoyed with the fact that yet again, another show was NOT going to start on time. Sadly, the venue wasn’t very packed either. Once the show resumed, we were mildly entertained. The man ‘comedic’ character was hilarious but the crassness of the show was a bit too much for our liking. As such, we darted out at intermission to enjoy a colorful, sky extravaganza on our way home.

Next on the party-bus roster for July was Garden a Go Go – a burlesque show that sounded most intriguing. Situated in a warehouse-looking building in Humboldt Park (a clear indication nothing good could possibly come of us), we again, arrived very early in anticipation of much awesomeness. Unfortunately, our $20 donation didn’t seem worthwhile for the non-air-conditioned frenzy of annoyance we were met with. Granted, there was a very awesome hoop aerialist doing some ‘pre-show’ performance while we yet again, waited the untimely nature of the production. We sat and sweated and listened to DJ-ed music accompanied very ineloquently by a saxophone player. Not even the sax could save our spirits. Let me also point out that drink tickets were mandatory and that no bottled water was available. After staying to watch the show until, literally, we finished watching the Abraham Lincoln performance, we left immediately and pondered actually picking up and dropping off a case of water for the poor souls continuing to suffer without quench.

As remedy to our disappointment for the Garden a No No, I suggested we stop off at my most beloved Sidekicks for a drink and song. Sharon was most agreeable and we headed over. This night was COMPLETELY turned around by this decision. Not only did we become cool with the karaoke guru, Joe, but we made friends with my waitress’s friends, Bart and Maria who were the coolest people ever. Bart was literally creating self-echoes over the mic and ended up buying us buttery-nipple shots at one point. I even discovered one of my dance student’s moms also waitresses there! Talk about your small world! Had a blast. We would end up at Sidekicks two more times that month. The second was just as fun. The last was well, not as anticipated but all in all, it’s a great default place to scout out any time. Ah concerts. How I do loathe thee – unless you are outdoors and I have plenty of personal space which is precisely what we achieved this month! We grabbed some super cheap tickets for Hollywood Casino Amphitheater in Tinley Park for 311 even though we were actually going for the opening bands. After having our sunscreen and bug spray discarded my security (doh) and having to walk the perimeter of the joint to get the correct ‘will call’ window, I paid way too much for plastic mason jars of vodka. Lawn seat were spectacular and we came prepared with Skip-Bo which, due to wind complication, involved putting every item we owned on every card pile to prevent throw-aways. The opening bands were good up until the last one before 311 at which point, we could not muster the will for it was quite horrendous. It was strange to pack up before the main band but quite satisfactory.

Ravinia. Can’t go wrong. Every year I try to make it a point to find SOMEONE to see here. Again, lawn seats are the absolute best for comfort. We again arrived with Skip-BO after venturing to Viaggio in Highland Park for some take-away dinner goods. The place was PACKED for arriving at 5 o’clock on a Sunday! I’d never seen it so full so early on in the day. But we valiantly made our way around the venue until we found a sufficient spot to lay our wares. The music performance was The Music of Queen with a vocalist named Brody Dolyniuk who, was an awesome singer but horrendous speaker. Guy sounded like an infomercial. Several songs into the performance and after battling a swat of flies whom invaded one suspicious corner of our blanket, we headed out.

I never claim to be of Irish descent, although, my brother allegedly found out our family is a small percentage Irish, but that has never been necessary for partaking in the Irish Fest held every year at The Irish Heritage Center. We grabbed some food at a local spot conveniently across the street from Sidekicks, Old Irving Brewing Co. before making our way to the Irish Fest. After arriving we observed the place to be very much dead – which is always in our favor. We immediately grabbed drinks and headed to the outdoor tent area to take a gander at the vendors and musical performances. Sharon entered us in a Trip to Ireland drawing which we clearly didn’t win. We popped upstairs to take a look at the indoor exhibits and watched some Irish dancing for a hot second before heading out an inevitably ending up at Sidekicks (which we’ve previously discussed).

What better way to spend a Tuesday evening than drinking and BINGO’ing? It’s not often I have Tuesday evenings available due to dance scheduling so we took advantage of an opportunity to visit Eris Brewery and Cider House for their special BINGO event. We’d previously been here for their cider and were a bit underwhelmed. The same was true this most recent go. But I will say, their sweet potato waffle fries with bacon and a bunch of other awesome stuff were off the CHAIN! SO good! BINGO involved maybe three tables including ours, there were about 11 of us total? And it STILL took several people leaving before Sharon’s ‘luck’ kicked in during the last three games. Brian, a brewer, was the caller who was most entertaining. His gibberish between games was hilarious – until he went on tangents about making cider at which point, I was buzz, tired, and pissed I hadn’t won and therefore, was no longer amused. Sharon came away with a t-shirt and a bunch of other, random, useless items. I came away with much embitterment, per usual.

If you’re ever looking for a delish, Philly’s cheesesteak, look no further than Monti’s near Albany Park. I loved this place since the first time I tried it. It’s cute, carefree and I’ve never experienced bad service. After parking a bit away and trekking endlessly in the blistering sun, we arrived, grab some $5 martinis and consumed some delicious goods! Martinis take #2 underwent and buzzed, we headed off to the second event for the night: K. Karaoke and Paint. Because what could POSSIBLY be better than drinking, painting AND singing? Oh yeah, yes, it’s also BYOB so we grabbed our insulated Moscow mule cans from the car and walked a short way to the storefront. Once inside, we grabbed our seats, iced some cups and awaited the rest of the attendees. Eventually, we began our painting project of a sunflower in between which, I sang a song or two. The more we boozed, the more ‘creative’ our paintings became. At one point, Sharon was beckoned to the make-shift dance-floor at which time, everyone forgot what they were doing. At the very end of the event, you guessed it, we headed to Sidekicks (again, already covered this) and ultimately, took our paintings back home where I drunkenly decided to leave our art work outside the doorstep of our old-lady neighbor, as a gift. The following morning I barely remember this act of generosity and to this day wonder just what she was thinking when she noticed them.

We were very much looking forward to attending the Bristol Renaissance Faire this month, however, due to the heat severity, we determined it would not be the greatest idea to do so in July. As a replacement, however, we decided to get some tattoos. Sharon acquired a bridge and I, a sheep. Not a bad time for a lazy, hot Saturday.

The month of July was wrapped up with a few cat themes. Poor monkey-bear was taken to the vet due to violent, butt-licking tendencies which resulted in some prescribed laxative and pain medication. He’s doing much better now. I believe the demons haunting his butthole have vacated. Aside from that, we took in a performance of Cats downtown at the Nederlander Theatre. So here’s the thing on that. I don’t get it. I’ve never gotten it. Every time I try to understand that show, it fails. I couldn’t understand a damn thing the actors were sing/saying other than ‘Jellicle Cats’ which til this day, I still don’t know what the hell they are! Does anyone? Someone respond to this blog with an explanation please. Again, we left at intermission, very glad to have at LEAST experienced ‘Memories’ which is always a good, inner cry.

All in all, not a bad month – despite my obvious, aforementioned bitching. Complications and let-downs aside, nothing was going to stop these queens from enjoying this sexy, hot summer.

First-Act Queens Hot, Chicago summers are generally, not very fun but somehow, we manage. This past month was nothing short of spectacular – even despite the sweltering, blistering, hell heat.

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uterusclub · 5 years

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Every Dog Has Its Delay The dog days have summer finally arrived in Chicago! I'm sure we never thought we'd see the day.

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uterusclub · 5 years

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What better way to kick off the month of May then with fresh, awesome tattoos! I mean, we made it just about 2 months since our last ones so we were clearly, well overdue! And as always, we booked our appointments with the most talented and awesome, Jackie at Stained in Pain! Designs? Sharon opted for a Sailor Moon wand (nerd!) and I acquired yet another animal (bunny) on my ‘spirit animal’ forearm. While we waited in much restless anticipation, we played a ‘which one would you get’ game with the tattoo panels on display. “You have to pick one” Sharon said as she turned panel after panel and we met with much horror and often, disgust! Once Sharon was up, I hung out in the threshold lobby and quickly became friends with some older, Latina ladies. The one woman was getting her noise pierced and had been considering getting a tattoo for quite some time so she pelted me with just about every possible question involving tattoos which I hardly minded – especially since she was most complimentary about mine. After Sharon finished up, we got started on mine at which point, I was lulled into a complete state of calm. Probably could have taken a nap had I not been starving. Tattoos complete, we thanked Jackie and made our way a few blocks around the corner to BATL Chicago for some free axe-throwing.

Yes, you read that correct. And actually, we had been meaning to try this out for quite some time but the scheduling just never panned out. This time, all was perfect – even if we anticipated staying for just a few moments to get some good videos and pictures. The place wasn’t crazy crowded when we arrived but there were definitely clusters of people hanging out at picnic tables situated behind the axe-throwing stalls. We proceeded to the front counter and ‘registered’ ourselves before acquiring wrist bans and being directed into a stall. So there we stood, bandaged like potential drug addicts with no idea as to how any of this worked. Some very nice people chilling in our line explained that everyone rotated turns. They even pointed us out to the instructor for our section who told us to ‘listen in’ as he explained procedures and rules to another couple throwing before us. Seemed fairly easy. Throw the thing and like, hit the thing. Once we stepped up for our turn though, self-pressure was ON! I managed to hit either way too high or far too low. Sharon was merely trying to stick something ON the actual board. At some point, Sharon got a hit and I ended up on a bullseye that was conveniently not captured but I promise you it was legit. And on both of those notes, we were satisfied to end our night of merriment and unbandage ourselves at the home front.

Our adventures this month have not only brought us physical endeavors but musical ones as well. For the past few months and out of disdain for my ‘usual’ programmed stations, I’ve been listening to a college radio station, 88.7. As a result, I’ve come across many awesome bands and singer/song-writers one of which, Sharon also became invested. After completely falling in love with the soft, buttery sound of Bruno Major, there was no hesitation in purchasing tickets to see him perform at Lincoln Hall. We pregamed the evening with dinner at Red Lion Pub because, well, it’s allegedly haunted and literally down the street from the music venue. We were seated in a quiet, fireplaced room with a tall ceiling and vintage decor which was all ours for a few minutes. Food was absolutely stellar. To kill time, we made our way to Sprinkles Cupcakes down the street which I wasn’t impressed with (not enough sugar in the frosting) but Sharon was a huge fan of. Having killed as much time as possible, we finally headed to Lincoln Hall where we grabbed a couple drinks and made our way to the upstairs balcony to perfect viewing. Ah, balconies and sitting – two of our most beloved and logistical preferences for concerts. The opener for Bruno Major was a young girl by the name of ‘Eloise‘ we would later see performing with our headliner. She was, magical! Her voice was mesmerizing and we were both blown away. Unfortunately, the asshats sitting next to Sharon weren’t of the same persuasion as they began talking and messing around with their phones for the duration of the entire time we were there. Fucking RUDE! But moving along. Once Bruno Major took stage, I couldn’t help but feel a little under- whelmed. His voice was well, from what I could tell, just as stellar as the radio but it was drowned out by the instruments surrounding him. He also wasn’t as charismatic on stage as his predecessor. But he did perform two of my ‘favorites’ of which I couldn’t have been more please.

May could not be complete without a celebration of Cinco de Mayo or rather, Cinco de Meow Meow as we call it. And this, was like no other you will EVER hear of. It is a tale of danger, violence, courage and above all things, ridiculousness. We had previously discussed the idea of making a Uterus pinata to commemorate Cinco De Meow Meow for quite some time. Why? Well, why not? That’s the short answer. The long one, we’ll leave to your imagination. In any case, with my hectic schedule and Sharon’s abundant, craft activities, it didn’t appear likely we would have time to make said pinata. Instead, I rallied to purchase one online which DO exist, mind you, but they’re fairly expensive – at least the shipping was. So I did what any resourceful individual would do and turned to the sideshow that is Facebook Marketplace. If you’re unaware, you can basically buy anything online from anyone. People sell home-made food and hair-braiding so it wasn’t unheard of to attempt to purchase a Uterus pinata there. Added entertainment? The lady I contacted only spoke/wrote in Español. And although I’ve had an embarrassing amount of escuela throughout high school and college, I turned to trusty Google Translate to help pave the way! So we went back and forth. She wasn’t charging me much but she was located in an area I’d consider the ‘ghetto.’ So who was to be sure we wouldn’t be murdered upon arrival? But obviously, this was going to still happen. The morning of, Sharon was surprisingly calm about driving us into the ‘hood’ of the southside. Apparently she was semi-familiar with the area. I was having literal heart palpitations. We arrived at our destination and a man came outside to meet me with a ginormous Uterus pinata! I joked that I hadn’t expected it to be so big and felt almost bad we weren’t being charged more. Throwing it in the backseat, we made a quick stop-off to my parent’s house to borrow some old bats and rope and grabbed some red, dollar-store candy to store inside our masterpiece. Once home, we changed into our ‘get-ups’ ie. Mariachi t-shirts, hats, and mustaches and carried the pinata with our bats across the street to Wilson Park. I wanted to hang the pinata up in a nearby tree with kids in the background for irony sake but Sharon’s embarrassment forced us to walk farther into the park towards a more deserted area. Once we settled on a spot, I rigged a pulley system (which surprisingly worked – mostly) and we set up our camera for much anticipated violence. Passer-byers gawked but I could care less. Sharon felt the need to attempt explanation which, well, was futile. Destroying that Uterus didn’t take much. It was hilarious and very therapeutic and in all truth, I’d love to begin and end each and everyday that way. After cleaning up the remnants of victory, we made our way back home and made food and drinks while taking in some most appropriate, Three Amigos.

Remember 2006? Yes, I agree, very vaguely but I DO recall the birth of a band called Hellogoodbye. Yes, I bought that album with all the smash hits and never thought of them again . . . until the here and now when I realized they were touring at The Chop Shop. Being most intrigued and expecting nothing short of throw-back central, I Spotified the crap out of what I discovered to be newer albums of theirs? Obviously I had lost track of them but was pleasantly surprised and awed in the sound transformation. They definitely didn’t sound like 2006 anymore but it felt as though they had ‘matured’ in the same sense that I had. It was more mellow and a bit, more complex, dare I say? In any case, I sent my new ‘favorites’ of theirs to Sharon for a once-over who was equally awed and impressed. This was going to ROCK! If you’re unfamiliar, Chop Shop is a fairly intimate venue situated inside a butcher store/restaurant in Wicker Park. We took this opportunity to blue line it for the purposes of hitting up the Robin Williams Mural located randomly in Logan Square. Were it not for the obstructive vehicles in the parking lot, the sight, I’m sure would have been even more magnanimous. The blue pop of genie carries a sad, yet empowering truth and conviction to it – if you ask me. I donned my L.E.D. shoes for the occasion which I switched to color-coordinate for the evening. For pre-game, we hiked it over to Sharon’s most beloved, Big & Littles which always makes me think of Role Models. The joint was deliciously empty and the food, most appetizing. Stomachs full, we back-tracked to the Chop House where we, you guessed it, headed straight upstairs to the balcony area but were met with no seats. Doh! Instead, we teeter-tottered back and forth from both ends of the room to finagle an ideal viewing area. We finally settled on an off-center position where we grew more and more haggered in stature and morale as the night wore on. Not only was the opening bad terrible, but the in between set-up took an ungodly amount of time. By the time Hellogoodbye appeared, we had neither time, patience, or will to stay much longer. Sharon was ultimately pissed that no ‘older’ songs were played while I basked in listening to two, newer ones I had become most familiar with. And I’ve gotta give credit to the band for the ostentatious set-up with lights and balloons and colorful curtains but all in all, 2006 called far too late.

Now I’m no marathon runner by any means, but sometimes, I can pull off a 19 hour activity extravaganza! It’s a rare occasion but a truly worth-while one. The morning began with a little update to our patio decor. If you’re unaware at this point, we create ‘scenes’ outside our apartment windows in which our ‘old lady skeletons’ are showcased. With the upcoming summer and our trip to Hawaii on the horizon, we felt it appropriate to hula the crap outta everything. And so we coconut-braed and lei-ed our ladies with an attempt at including a life-size, pink, inflatable coffin in the picture but this became far too burdensome for space and picture purposes – although our neighbor across the way heartily agreed with our overambitious endeavors. After running over to my dance studio for a quick rehearsal, I drove back home and picked up Sharon to make our way over to Skokie for some Bunny Yoga. And let’s be honest here, yoga is one of my least favorite things in the world. I respect those who do it, I just don’t understand it. So having said that, we were most obviously there for the bunnies and nothing else. We arrived early (as always) and set up our mats in a smallish room where other people had already began to gather. As the time wore closer to the start of class, the room became almost claustrophobic with bodies. There was no pre-registration which made this free-for-all, just plain dumb! Three bunnies arrived and upon being released, kept mostly to the front part of the room. Eventually, the ladies running the operator, placed them in other areas of the room for a more interactive experience. I was in absolute heaven! The yoga – I vaguely recall – as my only focus was relocating bunnies and their proximity to me. Best yoga class ever! But never again.

The day proceeded with more, fun-filled activities. Our most beloved friend, Tina drove to our apartment at which point, we all made our way to a restaurant by the name of Short Fuse. The joint was super spacious and the wall art was quite the sight! And while the drinks were mostly beer, the food was dece and the service impeccable. Sharon and I salvaged our thirst for the next stop on the agenda – a bar in Schiller Park that had piqued my interested – Sway Bar. I had enjoyed their promotional images and had read many good reviews so it made sense to take a trip out to see it. I can’t say I was impressed – nor was I let-down by actually going there. The place was artsy and chill – major points for Banksey paintings on the walls. They also had a pool table which we took advantage of. Our bartander was outstanding and I felt quite at home hanging out there – people watching many strange individuals inbetween pool shots. At some point, an old school-mate of Tina’s and future acquaintenance of mine appeared. Small world indeed.

But wait, there’s more! After adequate booze consumption, we now headed over to Triton College’s Cernan Earth and Space Center for a Motown Laser Show! That’s right. If you didn’t know about this, you’re welcome. I’ve actually known about this for quite some time but hadn’t been in the longest. Tina was also aware of it’s existence. So we showed up, early again, and ventured into the gift shop to purchase tickets which Sharon got for a crazy, discounted price (pretend to be a student or senior). We then sat and chilled for an hour (felt longer somehow) of explosive shapes coordinated to groovy Motown tunes. People clapped in between (we’re too cool for that) and I may have yelled out ‘Stevie!’ when Superstition kicked on. All in all, it was a decent time. As Sharon put it, I’m sure it would have been more enjoyable on drugs. If that wasn’t enough, our night still wasn’t over.

Fortunately, a second wind kicked in as we made our way over to Native Bar in Logan Square for their 90’s themed Silent Disco. If you’ve never done this, you simply must. The concept is this. You get headphones to switch between three different DJ’s all playing different styled music. Our options? Alternative, pop and hip-hop. The different stations are designated by ‘color’ on your headphones – which is how you decipher who is listening to what. We arrived right at the kick-off hour of 10 p.m. The set-up was actually outside in the backyard area of the bar. We began immediately jamming out right in front of the DJ tables accompanied by lights and fog. For the next three hours, we dance-partied our asses off and I’ve never had more fun! Let me, at this time, remind you that Sharon and I generally go to sleep at 9 p.m. By the time 1 a.m. rolled around and we were met with an alien-voiced announcement over headphones that the event was over, we were very disappointed and could have gone on for hours. Sharon and Tina complained about knee discomfort (there was lots of jumping) but I was in tip-top shape (thanks, dance) and had zero complaints. It wasn’t until the next morning that my head may have had an alcohol-induced complaint or two. But all in all, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Going a bit out of order but I’ll clump them together, we hit the movies twice this month. The first show we saw was The Hustle which if you’re unfamiliar, is basically a girl-rendition remake of Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. I’d grown up on this movie and can repeat several scenes by memory so I was super excited when I first saw the trailer. Sharon was unfamiliar with the original movie so we made a point to watch it the night before. When we arrived at the AMC in Norridge to watch it, we noticed slight chaos inside the theater. A younger, hoodlumy fellow was outside and informed us that there had been a fire and everything was shut down. “They aint even got any popcorn!” he also proclaimed which I responded with much incredulous-ness. Still, we had 30 minutes til our show so we figured it was still salvageable. Once inside, we headed to the ticket line which was ever-growing with a frustrated, angry mob for refunds. Behind us in line, we listened to the altercation of two gang-sounding members who threatened to what I can only assume, murder each other, in so many words. Talk about your wholesome activity. The only highlight was seeing our friend, Sue towards the end of line whom we lost track of and didn’t get to actually say ‘hi’ to. In any case, tickets purchased, we watched what I would review as a very fun, accurate portrayal of the original which I would most likely watch/purchase in the near future.

The second, more recent movie we saw this month was Aladdin. And let’s preface this by saying our expectations were low. Very low. Solely based on the previews and the fact that Robin Williams can never been trumped. We even pre-gamed at Park Tavern in Rosemont for some $8 mimosa carafes before the show to guarantee less annoyance/viewing pain but alas, the movie was still fairly dreadful. Granted, this IS a children’s film and all, but as the ‘children’ who grew up on this movie, it paled in comparison in terms of magic and authenticity. Let me also take a moment to discuss the forced ‘girl power’ message attempt that the world of today keeps shoving down our throats. It’s too much, it’s too obvious and it’s too annoying. Due to alcohol intoxication, my bladder needed several breaks during the movie which I was not reluctant to take as I knew I would be missing absolutely nothing.

In closing and only because it’s coming to an end soon, I mentioned attending a dance rehearsal earlier. The whole point of this was, indeed, for rehearsal but more specifically because of our ‘bring a friend to dance‘ week which occurred just last week. This is both fun and nerve-wrecking as we get to finally ‘show’ but we’ve been working on since November and what is to be expected for our recital in a few weeks. The nerves are a results of people sitting fairly close to you – not to mention Sharon sitting in the exact area I dance the most around. I forewarned that I would most likely, almost die after our lyrical piece, ‘Survivor’ which ended up being the favorite of the crowd. Everything else was a blur really.

All in all, the spring or rather, pre-summer has proven to be of much consequence. Music and dance were most substantial. Exciting and disappointing endeavors were had and much was shown for it all. And as we kick-off the summer of 2019 with even higher expectations of future trips, I’ve no doubt, we’ll find some charming nitches in between the cracks and cranies of this life.

Charmed, I’m Sure What better way to kick off the month of May then with fresh, awesome tattoos! I mean, we made it just about 2 months since our last ones so we were clearly, well overdue!

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uterusclub · 5 years

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As I sit here reflecting on the weekend, it’s disheartening to glance out our patio doors to see the unending doom that is Chicago’s relentless winter! Yes, it’s April 14th and snowing. The only thing ‘appropriate’ about this situation is the premier of Game of Thrones but we will get to that later.

We jump-started our weekend early this past Friday afternoon taking in a showing of Pet Cemetary at Norridge’s AMC. Lounged back in complete comfort, we laughed each and every time the zombie cat had a cameo as it reminded us both of a non-zombie cat we all know as “Monkey” a/k/a Bear. We now ponder if he is, in fact, the undead. The movie was, in truth, just ‘aight.’ I do enjoy Stephen King’s ‘dark conclusions’ in horror. Very un-cliche. And yet, the ending was pretty anti-climatic.

Continuing our adventures, we shopped at a nearby Joann Fabric’s, Discovery, and Shoe Carnival to gather ‘supplies’ for our upcoming activities. Shoe Carnival graciously provided us with empty boxes for our diorama project, however, we ended up buying cute animal shoes anyway!

Upon reaching the homefront, we drank and caught up on our terribly wonderful reality t.v. shows before proceeding out for dinner at Crio. Groupon to the rescue! Oh, and minor detail – I dressed in ‘partial’ costuming attire for the night’s festivities. Crio was delicious – we bantered in crunk fashion before heading over to The Liars Club.

After heading back over to the car and adding the ‘remainder’ of my outfit ie freshly duct-taped jacket and moustache, we entered into the infamous Liars Club. Now the only thing I recall about this place was from a ghost tour several years ago. My vague recollection was of some bar fight that occurred in the upstairs area which housed a pool table. Someone died. Apparently, according to our very upbeat, A.D.D. bartender, no one had been allowed upstairs for the past 8 years. So it’s been a minute. With sight disappointment, we downed several drinks to kill time before the live, all-female Queen cover band, The Ready Freddies took stage. Thanks to my costuming, I met part of the band briefly who requested a few photos. An hour and change later, the bar had filled up. We sat in anticipation and became immediately intrigued, horrified and distracted by a random patron who evidently knew our bartender and who’s birthday it was. But this was not our intrigue. Our intrigue was his hair – or lack thereof. This guy had buzzed two strips of hair on either side of his head that came to a point in the front. I’m not sure if you can imagine this but we attempted many photos and videos of this complete enigma of a hair design which we’re pretty sure he caught immediate whiff of as he flipped us off in our selfie attempt with him in the background. Ironically, after taking in the band (which was awesome) for a few songs, we left out where aformentioned dude was standing outside and disappointingly asked if we were leaving already. Good luck to you sir – in all your hair endeavors! He most definitely needs to be an extra for the next Mario Brothers’ movie.

Saturday, I must say was perhaps even MORE eventful than our Friday. After heading to my dance studio for a rehearsal and stopping at several stores for a ‘peep’ mission, I eventually headed back home to pick up Sharon and the Monkey for a little visit with a friend we all know as The Easter Bunny. Petsmart wasn’t horribly crowded – in fact, there was just one, mini, ugly dog getting it’s photo taken. Odd to say but without even seeing a face behind the mask, you could tell the Easter Bunny was just ‘not feeling’ this whole thing. Sorta eery not knowing who was under there – save, a poorly paid man who assumedly hated his existence. Bear was slightly panicked but mostly good – that was until he got into the actual arms of the bunny at which point, he continuously shifted his attention to the opposite side of where photos were being taken (NOT Next Top Model material, for sure). Several million photos later, we all gave up and headed home. This, however is not where the madness ends but merely begins.

Instead of dying eggs this year, I suggested we attempt creating peep dioramas. Sharon quickly settled on recreation of a painting and I, of course, took immediately to a Moulin Rouge piece. The next few hours entailed lots of cursing, glue sticking and laughter over the ridiculously awesome nature of this whole project. Case in point – we are yet to finish but updates will be provided in the near future!

After getting to a satisfactory point of progress, we took a break for food, drinks and t.v. before getting reading for the next endeavor for the weekend: Roaring City Festival! We had already pre-prepped our outfits and just needed hair and make-up execution for the event held in Logan Square! Several hours later, we headed out on the glorious CTA. A quick trip and walk later, we arrived at the Logan Square Auditorium which was smaller than imagined and not very crowded. But it WAS only 6pm. We arrived just in time to catch the ongoing burlesque performance which was dece. We hung around for the afro-centric DJ and danced at our table-top while taking in the sights of all the wonderful misfits crushing the dance floor. There was a mini Matthew McConaughey wearing a backpack who was completely stellar in entertainment and whom we wondered just what was inside his satchel. Drugs? Most likely. Downing cranvodka after cranvodka, we headed home after Sharon purchased a super random, Abe Lincoln tie-dye shirt and ordered sushi while awaiting our el. Feeling the heightened effects of the booze once home, we downed sushi, attempted tv perusal and then both knocked out cold and hard in what felt like an instant. It was 9pm!

And that brings us back to the today and now – Sunday! Sharon had been anticipating the premier of Game of Thrones for as long as I can remember. I’m on board as well but with no where NEAR the same enthusiasm. Regardless, the morning was spent tv watching and eventually lead to the prepping of our GOT themed meal ie things that ‘seemed’ authentic but in reality were poser-like ‘Medieval Times’ type foods. But still good, nonetheless. Cornish hens, freshly baked Dire Wolf bread and sliced potatoes. Let me not forget our appetizer of blue (dragon) deviled eggs as well as our accompaniment of l.e.d. dragon cups! Food was splendid – despite Sharon’s perfectionist attitude. We topped the whole entourage of amazingness off with GOT Oreos I had hunted down earlier in the week! Not a bad way to end what felt like the shortest (though productive) weekend! We can only hope it is the winter’s last coming because this shit’s been dragon on.

Spring is Coming; You know nothing – more snow! As I sit here reflecting on the weekend, it's disheartening to glance out our patio doors to see the unending doom that is Chicago's relentless winter!

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uterusclub · 5 years

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I think it goes without saying that Sharon and I were well-aware of the infamous town of Alton, IL for quite some time due to our extended ghost-hunting research. The only detail daunting us from execution was the 5 hour drive down state. It wasn’t until Ghost Adventures recently released a few episodes investigating the spooked town that our fire was fueled! The itinerary was, shortly thereafter, drawn up (thanks to Sharon) with inclusions of Saint Louis, Missouri as well.

Our journey jump-started at a departure of 7:30 a.m. With freshly burned CDs in tow for music accompaniment, we headed out the door with much excitement. First stop – Grafton, Illinois to check in early to our hotel, Ruebel Hotel where we had prebooked an allegedly haunted room #11. Driving into the small town, we noted but dismissed several ‘road closed’ signs as they had no effect on our commute to the hotel. Upon speaking with Moe at the front desk, we were informed that our check-in was actually scheduled for the night before and that our reservation was for 2 nights? Whoops! This conversation had taken place a few weeks earlier as I recall trying to verify this detail with Sharon who assured me we were only staying for 1 (she later redacted and apologized for miss-remembering). In any case, we checked out our room very briefing concluding it didn’t ‘feel’ haunted before heading back out to soothe our aching bellies. Next stop? Grafton Harbor for food and drinks!

On the way to the car Sharon scoffed at her GPS. “This wants us to go all the way around which is 18 minutes, but it’s a 7 minute walk!” We prepared to depart but happened to look back at a ‘road closed’ sign which now made sense. It was then that we noticed the backdrop to our hotel – high waters submerging the streets below it. “Guess that’s why it’s telling me to go this other way” Sharon concluded. Leaving with minimal annoyance, we made our way to a flooded roadway of unpredictable depth. Sharon reluctantly backed the car up to return back the way we came, only to notice several cars behind us. “Wait, wait, wait, let’s see what they’re going to do” she said. So we sat and waited as one ballsy car at a time drove through the wading tides to the other side. We watched in awe and terror. And while tempting, decided in the end, it wasn’t worth it. The panic, that is. So no food.

Venturing forward with a slight chip on our shoulders, we skipped to our next scheduled stop: Piasa Bird. As Sharon drove along the shoreline we continued our perfect view of the high waters. We also noted several barriers stating ‘road closed – local traffic only’ which Sharon concluded didn’t apply to us for some reason. Bi-passing without a thought, we continued our journey hoping upon hope that there was indeed an end in sight as there was really no way of turning back on this one-way road. As we anti-climatically reached the Piasa Bird and climbed out of the car, our enthusiasm dwindled as we both half-heartedly took turns reading the backstory to it. I can’t even recall it now (and this occurred yesterday) so clearly, it was too much detail for my a.d.d. brain or just uninteresting. You decide. A couple photos later, we jumped back into the car and headed to the downtown area of Alton, Illinois!

Next stop? My Just Desserts! The thing is, we hadn’t even had what I refer to as ‘normal’ food yet so by the time we got to this little town and found the joint, I didn’t care much for pie or baked goods. I’ll also blame my questionable stomach but we ended up splitting a spinach, bacon, and chicken salad with an amazing poppyseed vinaigrette that Sharon ended up purchasing. Having fed the hunger demons, our demeanors quickly simmered. The majority of our ‘activities’ for the town were based around the local shopping area. We visiting the Mineral Springs Antique Mall where we saw some gorgeous ceiling-lined umbrellas and had far too much fun in the Historic Museum of Torture Devices! Several random shops later, Sharon had a Doodle Bear ($1.50) and I, an awesome corduroy hippie dress (definitely not $1.50). Shopper high complete, we now made our way to Elijah P. Lovejoy Monument or what I’ll refer to as, ‘pretty cemetery’ for all intent and purposes.

Cemeteries. You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all and if you’re Sharon, they’re all ‘pretty’ so there’s really not much to say about the stop. Literally. We can move along now. To St. Louis, specifically.

Now my only recollection of St. Louis, Missouri was occasionally visiting childhood friends of my family ‘back in the day.’ That and it being hot as balls during the summertime. Outside of that, nada. First and most regrettable stop – Gateway Arch. So I guess it’s a thing now that you can ‘ride’ inside an elevator to the top? Sounded cool. SOUNDED. Foreshadow much? Anyway, after a confusing debacle over the ‘parking’ situation ie. being in a ghetto ally and asking a random ‘officer’ looking dude for assistance, we parked in a nearby garage and walked over to the grassy grove encompassing the Arch. I wont knock the splendor of the shining sight and absorbing all the un-obnoxious people enjoying themselves around us, however, I WILL take a few jabs at our attempts at finding the goddamn entrance to the illusive ‘ride.’ There was no ‘pot of gold’ at the end of either rainbow for these unlucky leprechauns. It wasn’t until we actually FOLLOWED the random arrows painted on the ground that we discovered an underground mound. Victoriously entering the ticket line, I glanced at the pricing monitor: ‘Trams sold out for the day.’ Mother****! ALL that effort. Though I will add that we mysteriously ended up departing our parking garage without paying which I can only assume was karma’s apology to us.

So now what? BOOZE. Much much deserved BOOZE. A quick ride took us to Brick River Cider where we were greeted immediately and provided with an oratory comparison of all draft ciders. Sharon and I settled on different, favorable choices which resulted in a growler and 6-pack for the homefront. With inebriation healing past wounds, we moved ahead to the City Museum of St. Louis. Sharon had briefed me on this but I couldn’t recall much – save for it looking interesting.

Upon arriving to the City Museum of St. Louis and parking across the street, you could see a whole, structural display on the very top of the building which we hoped would be open for the season (it wasn’t). You could also see and hear the shrills of lots and lots of children playing outside on the interactive displays. Normally this would put me off but the booze had muted the sounds and annoyance for the moment. I suppose I should take this time to mention Sharon’s wardrobe change from a dress into a different dress with pants for what she claimed was ‘comfort’ purposes. Entering this playground from hell, I can only describe it as a poor man’s attempt at a children’s Meow Wolf inside the locker room of a YMCA. Between the chaotic amount of children, the dingy apparatuses and the confusing layout (which was suppose to be a ‘schtick’ of exploration’), sobriety became king. I’d like to also point out that the main form of ‘travel’ was through slides and tunnels – the likes of which were most inconvenient for probably the only individual at this place wearing a dress! Still, I attempted to ‘play nice’ and took a turn on a ‘slide’ which I’m fairly sure, resulted in me flashing one very happy man (he owes me at lease $5 for that). Fixated on annoyance, we didn’t last long and decided our only salvation now was food.

We chose to eat at Square One Brewery & Distillery solely based on my pre-researched discovered of them having a goat-cheese artichoke dip appetizer which was the best part of the entire meal. My salmon with potatoes and broccoli was beyond basic (shame on you) and Sharon’s ‘barbecue’ pork sandwich tasted of funky, spiced ketchup (I still can’t believe she ate as much of it as she did after trying it myself). The only saving grace to this most egregious meal was our next stop down the street – Bailey’s Chocolate Bar. Surely, no wrong can come of chocolate!

This cute little bar was situated atop an escalating stairway into a dim, intimate dining area. The menu consisted of ice cream booze drinks, booze drinks, or desserts. Both deciding upon ice creamed, booze martinis, we partook in some mini, complimentary chocolate chip cookies which were divine! Drinks were strong AND delicious. I’ve actually never heard Sharon confess something to be ‘dangerous’ so many times.

Feeling much better after chocolate intoxication, the only thing left now was to continue boozing for the remainder of the evening! We headed over to W Karaoke Lounge which I had previously researched and observed a super cool looking ‘performance’ floor that lit up beneath the performers. We stayed just long enough for me to get one rendition of ‘Just a Girl’ in and finished up one drink before moving along to the next booze endeavor.

Thaxton Speakeasy. Another place I had previously researched which looked super cool inside. We arrived a few minutes after the place ‘opened’ and were met by an older gentleman outside the door advising us that the place was closed for a private party. Goddamnit! Foiled again! Guess we didn’t need that drink. Onto the next!

Our last stop for the night was at The Monocle & The Emerald Room where we had purchased tickets to a see a Burlesque show a few ladies I knew were in. We sat, drank and bided our time for an hour and a half – despite the show time scheduled for 10pm. Once 10:30pm hit and the performances began, we knew we wouldn’t last long. Sharon’s mentality drastically switch from ‘if your friends are in the second half, we have to stay’ to ‘yeah, I’m sorry, no, if they’re not on the first half, too bad, I’m tired.’ We were glad to stand in line next to a super buzzed, hilariously friendly gentleman who had absolutely no filter. The theater gods granted us the delight of seeing my wonderful friends during the first half of the show after which we immediately took our exit for the long journey (hour) back to our hotel in Grafton, Illinois.

Suffice it to say, we were absolutely exhausted by the time we got back to the hotel. Ironically, I had a difficult time falling asleep after falsely identifying paranormal activity of my toiletries. My heart was literally in my throat for quite some time. I could hear Sharon had no problem getting to sleep. At some point, tossing and turning throughout the night, I caught some portion of sleep and roused at the usual, ungodly hour of 7am Tired still but forcing the will to journey for more immediate comfort at home, we showered, packed and departed in optimal time. Discovering no roadside coffee availability nearby, save gas station coffee, we waiting patiently (2 hours) for the reward of Dunkin Donuts. I took the reigns for the rest of the drive home and played road tag with a Kia whom I’m not sure when I divulged from. I can only hope that some day – definitely not today – definitely not tomorrow but in the very, very distant future, we may meet again in St. Louis.

Meet Me In St. Louis Or Rather, Don’t I think it goes without saying that Sharon and I were well-aware of the infamous town of Alton, IL for quite some time due to our extended ghost-hunting research.

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uterusclub · 5 years

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As any Native Chicagoean can attest, the winter never fails to destroy our souls – at least temporarily so. But as that weary tail-end concludes, one gradually regains hope, energy, and enthusiasm. These are the trappings of no more woe.

Our first expedition involved a visit to the Otherworld Theatre Company to see a choose-your-own adventure style production of ‘Quest for Thrones.’ We were beckoned to make several decisions for the Game of Thrones characters which mostly involved death or killing and to no surprise of mine, our crowd was an outwardly, murdery bunch. So we got along just great. The only downside to the show was the mold-induced smell of the lobby area where I quite literally gawked around the room to see if anyone else was just as disturbed as I. They did not appear as such which daunts me even more. Following the very short but delightful show, we made our way home but the night just didn’t feel complete. So we made a stop-off. Well, 2, actually. Sharon had demanded a hot dog the entire day so we stopped at my beloved Susie’s and then headed a few blocks down to my treasured karaoke joint, Sidekicks! It had been quite some time since my last sing so it was well-overdue. Upon arrival, we noted several people already singing which took me by surprise. While Sharon hit the bano, I was met by my long-time waitress friend who’s name I can’t completely remember – Christine – Christina? Christy? Something like that. I’m horrible. In any case, she offered me a mis-remembered test-tube shot (Sex on the Beach) to which I declined (my favorite is the Buttery Nipple) and ordered us a few drinks. I immediately trolled through the song book to figure out my agenda which, let’s be honest, is usually the same couple songs. Due to low attendance, I was announced very quickly. The night continued much the same aside from several interruptions from ‘the mutants at table 9’ who attempted to Facebook us (we DID give them Uterus Club as our contact but perhaps they considered this a joke as nothing ever came of it). We had met our end all be all of interactions with these folks when one of them dedicated a song to me. It was at this point, we slipped out, past the bouncer and I quite literally ran to my car even though Sharon had my keys and fumbled around for horror-movie record time. Surely, we would have been killed. Regardless, wonderful, hilarious night.

Onward. Sharon has been madly obsessed with a man by the name of Max Frost whom she played a few songs of a little while back. She missed a previous concert of his as my schedule wouldn’t allow it but recently discovered he was once again, back in Chicago! Naturally, she grabbed tickets and demanded (or rather, asked super nicely) we go. The last time we had been to Subterranean in Wicker Park was for Allison Weiss which was a blast! I recalled our hanging out on the upstairs area and peering down at the entire performance. Max Frost was equally rewarding in this sense. Unfortunately, getting awesome seats around the threshold of the upstairs area meant getting there early and listening to the opener – a girl we had already pre-researched and were not impressed with. Ironically, she ended up sounding way better live. Further irony kicked in when we discovered there was an ADDITIONAL opener who no one knew! THIS guy? Oh man. This was your stereotypical, dirty hipster trying-to-be-real with the ‘people’ who attempted to be deep and introspective while sitting on stage without shoes on. Absolutely horrendous! It should come as no surprise that we were a tad bit ecstatic when Max Frost FINALLY showed up on stage. Yes, we were ecstatic for approximately five songs and then all fizzled out into exhaustion. Capping the night and our very classy ride home via the most wonderful CTA, we listened to a homeless man reflect on his rejection of a plus-sized lady whom he compared to several, large animals. Always an adventure.

But wait. There’s more. ‘March madness’ couldn’t possibly be complete without a little festive shout-out to the Irish. And we went all out people. Having said that, I believe I’m some ridiculously low percentage Irish but I’ve also BEEN to Ireland so I think I get a free pass on that one. In any case, Sharon suggested we hit up the downtown dying of the river in the morning since neither of us had actually seen it live. Sure, the videos are fun but it couldn’t possibly be the same. So bright and early, we headed downtown to park and walk over to one of them many bridges to catch a peek. I had no goddamn idea shit was going to be that cray! Seriously, it was college town USA and like, early. The only good part of the situation is that everyone was very merry but not obnoxiously so (yet). The bad part of the situation is that the color saturation hadn’t exactly made itself evident enough from our viewpoint and therefore, we saw a little bit of green far off in the distance. Major fail. Our follow-up idea was to hit up Public House for their themed

cake shakes, however, we later realized it was already privatized for some wrist-band drinking event all morning and not open to the public! So we hit up the ‘poor man’s’ Public House ie. JoJo’s Milk Bar. The place was small and unimpressive to say the least. Sharon ordered us a ‘shake’ which was sad. We took a few obligatory sips before headed out. Next stop? Milwaukee! That’s right!

There’s absolutely no musical I love more than Phantom of the Opera. I legit have this shit memorized. On our way up to Milwaukee, I googled us a place to stop and eat nearby before the show. The Internet gods brought us to Ale Aslyum Riverhouse. It’s difficult to explain the complete awe of driving from a crazed downtown Chicago to a completely abandoned downtown Milwaukee. Streets were desolute! We had apparently come to the right place. Upon grabbing a quick lunch and Sharon randomly bumping into an ex-client of hers, we made our way to the Marcus Performing Arts Center. As usual, I had completely forgot what sort of seats I had purchased us but apparently I did well since we ended up in the back row on the end of the aisle. The performance was most enjoyable – although some of the singing was a bit inconsistent and I think we both spent a questionable amount of time wondering what the race of the Phantom was. We stayed long enough to hear by favorite trio part before seamlessly ducking out and venturing over to one last stop before home: Mars Cheese Castle. To say this place is anything other than completely overwhelming would be a lie. We came away with a few bags of curds and not much more due to ambivalence. Next time I’ll do some research.

St. Patrick’s Day! The OFFICIAL! Our festivities for the day mainly included eating and drinking. Oh yes, we also threw in a little Boondock Saints as well and some Pandora Irish playlist to accompany our cooking. Menu included Guinesse drumsticks, spinach puff-pastry shamrocks, mashed cauliflower and corned-beef eggrolls. Don’t forget, topping off our day-drinking of Magners Hard Cider which was doused with a few drops of green food coloring! We completed the meal with alcohol cupcakes purchased the night before at the previously mentioned Mars Cheese Castle. And that’s a wrap!

So guess what? We loved Milwaukee SO much that we decided to visit it AGAIN! But THIS time, we really meant business. First stop? Plato’s Closet. It’s tradition after all. Next stop? A little Milwaukee Burger Company. Ginormous, Deep-fried cheese curd cubes, anyone? Stomach – my apologies but worth it. Where to now? Our most beloved Lost Valley Cider Co. where we met an Irish wolf dog who was HUGE and wonderful! We also got our hands on a peanut butter and jelly cider as well as a Hibiscus cider we enjoyed so much we ordered some to go!

Catching a nice buzz now, we made our way to Swing Park where a bunch of hoodlums roamed and I tried to do fancy moves for photographic integrity. Sharon captured what appears to be a child abduction in progress which is absolutely priceless. Our journey now took us to the Villa Terrace Decorative Arts Museum which, not gonna lie, I didn’t know anything about and frankly, still don’t. But it was pretty and had a cheap Groupon and had a fantastic view! Finalizing our self-guided tour here, we finally headed to our haunted (that’s right), Bed and Breakst: Brumder Mansion.

We were met by innkeeper, Tom who was an absolute joy! Unfortunately, he didn’t give us much intel to go on as far as ghosts were concerned – only to say there were 13 and none sounded menacing (how very disappointing). He also mentioned there being some children that tend to fidget with items left out if you ask them to which Sharon left out a ridiculous amount of things. I’ll save you the suspense – nothing was moved. In any case, we hung out for a little while before heading out for our dinner reservation at the Pasta Tree. This has always been a favorite of mine, however, both service and food was mediocre at best for some reason. We followed up dinner with drinks at a nearby Irish bar by the name of Paddy’s Pub which ended up being one of my favorite parts of our trip! Decor was beautiful and sweet and the employees were homey and gracious.

The pinnacle of this trip was our finalized stop-off at the Oriental Theater to see a viewing of the Room with actor/director/writer, Tommy Wiseau present! The line for this event was literally down the street and around the corner! It took me a second to realize that Tommy was signing autographs and taking pictures BEFORE the actual showing so we jumped ship from our spots in line to meet the man himself who was kind and sweet (and apparently dug my tattoos). After re-joining our original line, we eventually made our way back into the theater and headed up to the balcony for anti-social viewing. Oh! And I mustn’t forget the spoons. While we had been in line outside, someone was passing out handfuls of plastic spoons which we didn’t take out of confusion – only to research and later discover it was a ‘thing’ that went along with the movie. Our bad. Next time! Show was scheduled to start at 9:30pm. Show started at, I’m going to say 10:45pm after all the delay and opening shenanigans. We were tired as all hell. And made it just about 15 minutes into the movie before calling it a night. Unfortunately, leaving out of the theater, Sharon predicted Tommy might be hanging out in the lobby and of course, lo and behold, there he blew! Goddamnit! So we attempted to casually saunter out only to be met with a very saddened, ‘Where you going? Home?” It actually broke my heart. Poor Tommy. Heading back to the B&B, we both eventually passed out and roused for our adorable breakfast. Parting fairly quickly after our meal, we had a final, triumphant stop off at the Potawatomi Hotel and Casino and endeavored in a little morning Bingo. Again, I’ll save you the suspense – we didn’t win. And I’m sure I demanded vengeance per usual.

Wrapping up the wonderful month of March was our visit to the United Center to see Mumford and Sons! I had purchased tickets for Sharon for her birthday back in February. She had been talking about wanting to see them for as long as I can remember. It was only after I had purchased said tickets that she vocalized her hatred of their latest album. Fortunately, they didn’t play much of it. As a precursor to the show, we stopped

off at Viaggio for some Italian dinner. Twas splendid! We then took a buzzed walk over to the show and awed over the comfort and view of our seats! No one in front of us and at the end of the aisle! Cat Power was the opener who I am familiar with but don’t know much about. I described her as ‘more depressing than Aimee Mann’ which Sharon could barely wrap her head around. Crowd became super anxious as a result but as soon as

Mumford showed up, the energy was electric! I’ve never been the hugest fan of theirs but I will say they put on a damn, fine show! Again, left after a handful of songs but know, I would have stayed til the end. And as we left, drenched in the cold rain whoring our make-up, I knew that this and everything else had all been worth the wait.

Oh Hi, March As any Native Chicagoean can attest, the winter never fails to destroy our souls - at least temporarily so.

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uterusclub · 5 years

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Party planning had been premeditated a few weeks prior which, per usual, escalated from one idea to a wonderful thread of several, awesome ones! This was going to be a hit out of the park! We initiated our weekend with a scheduled meeting at The Hyatt Regency at McCormick Center courtesy of a free night-stay voucher bestowed upon us by the always generous, Wika Shorty G. As I was already pre-committed to subbing at Cheetah gym beforehand, Sharon took her leisure getting ready at home whilst I donkey-trekked my overstuffed backpack to the likes of Andersonville for some cardio pre-party. Post class, I jumped aboard my Uber with a very friend Indian driver who immediately launched into his life story and offered me some Bollywood-esk tunes for my journey. Shit was good. Shazammed a bunch of it. But this ride was LONG. That’s what you get for rush-hour Fridays though, I suppose. In any case, either HE grew tired of the Bollywood or thought I had as he eventually changed the musical accompaniment to his favorite American tunes which involved some car-karaoked Backstreet Boys. My route concluded with Celine Dion’s My Heart Will Go On at which point, we neared the Hyatt Regency which was chaos-packed with vehicles as well as tuxedo’d gentlemen and fancy-dressed ladies. What in the fuck? I was well aware the Chicago Auto Show was happening (by no means of my own) but what did fanciness have to do with that? We came to later learn of the First Look for Charity which costs a whopping $300 per ticket. So basically, rich people is the answer. And we are not as such. In fact, I was, dare I say looking quite derelict post-workout class by the time I arrived at this very classy joint. Which, might I also add, is confusing as all living hell. I had to actually call Sharon and summon her to appear in order to figure out just where the hell to go. So she met me in some lobby portion looking equally derelict-y and we made our way back to our hotel room where we noshed on pre-ordered Indiana food while watching a re-run episode of Ghost Adventures.

Indian in belly, we did our utmost to glamor up before grabbing an Uber and making our way to the Museum of Science and Industry! Mission: Silent Disco! So I’d heard of this concept for quite some time and thought it very intriguing. Wasn’t exactly sure what to expect but I was NOT disappointed. Upon descending an accouplement of stairs, grabbing our drink tickets and dropping off our coats, we ascended to an exhibit hall lightly sprinkled with people. Handed our headphones, we observed three DJS set up in opposition and liquor tables arranged in the center. We took a few moments to scour the scene and get a little ‘groove’ on before turning in our ticket for some liquid courage. It was, of course, at this point, we realized we couldn’t leave the area with drink in hand so we chugged as quickly as we could to peruse the open exhibits around us. Exploring the museum was much more enjoyable jetting back and forth between house music and a bunch of random 70’s tunes. I could do this forever. I could live here under these ground rules. In any case, in hour into our endeavor, we were over it (as we are oft to do) and scheduled an Uber.

Back at the hotel, we de-make-up-ified (although my hair glitter refused to completely vacate the premises), changed into PJ’s and partook in the absolute splendor that is Forensic Files. It was not until the next morning that we came to realize the magnanimous-ness that is the Hyatt’s most wondrous beds! Holy awesome sleep! I’m fairly sure I didn’t move from my original sleeping position which is quite unheard of. Well rested, we woke up entirely too early (as per usual) and made some in-room coffee. Following that and upon packing up our gear, we headed out to catch Uber.

Congress Hotel, here we come! Upon arriving at the hotel, MAN, this place was GORGEOUS! Not to mention, TIMELY! The old school decor and feel brought me back to my last viewing of The Shining. Creep? Perhaps. But mostly gorgeous and almost homey (gotta be that ‘old soul’ thing). We stayed just long enough to meet the bell-hop to drop off our bags before heading out immediately to catch the 29 bus towards Navy Pier. Time for Cider Fest!! One uneventful bus ride later, we were at the very over-rated Navy Pier. As much as we despise this place, we always end up back here. Go figure. Per usual, their ‘events’ are always held at the exhibit halls at the farthest end of the strip. So basically, it’s a hike. Fortunately, the way there is ALWAYS much easier than the inebriated way back.

Once we reached the exhibit hall, we were at a stand-still for a short period of time. The line looked a lot longer than it was, in actuality. In fact, we ended up entering the exhibit much earlier than anticipated. After grabbing our sample ‘glasses’ and tickets, we met with some awesome friends of ours and made our way upstairs to the less congested area and began our ventures. Let me just say now, it is SO easy getting crunk here and it’s absolutely the best! I couldn’t love cider people more if you paid me. Okay, perhaps I could. But seriously, everyone was so delightful and polite. We had some absolutely OUTSTANDING ciders and of course, some that made you wanna die a little (I blame myself for my lure to the higher percentages). All in all though, no real complaints. An hour and a halfish later, Sharon and I were STARVING. We headed out, quite impressively now that I look back at it and actually WALKED all the way to our next scheduled stop-off, The Public House. Mission: Alcohol milkshake.

So back-story on this. This place concocts themed alcoholic milkshakes every month and they always look super adorable but generally taste like absolute garbage. I think we mostly go there for picture taking purposes. In any case, last time we came here the themed milkshake was ‘sold out’ and it completely broke out hearts. So like complete over-planning nerds, we made sure to call ahead and not waste our goddamn, drunken time. Fortunately, all was well and we got to dabble in their Valentine’s Day themed Rose milkshake which was actually pretty decent tasting (not so much the cake portion or the accompanying cookies but the actual shake was dece). Capping that off, we grabbed another Uber to bring us back to the Congress in order to change and get ready for the ‘evening’s’ fancy, birthday dinner. Side note: during the process of getting our bags from the bell-hop, Jose, we mentioned our ghost-hunting ambitions and after relaying we were staying in room 612, were advised that room 610 had had numerous complaints of arguing being heard in the room at night. I think we were both leery on believing this guy but we were still both hopeful. In fact, I theorized he might possibly be a ghost himself! Especially when we later came to discover there WAS no room 610! After later accusing Jose in the elevator about it, he very nonchalantly replied, ‘Oh, well, it could have been room 612.’ Hmmmmm . . . .

Putting on make-up for the 2nd day in a roll was rough for the both of us but somehow we managed. Heading out, we caught another Uber to take us to the Tortoise Supper Club which, ironically, happened to be literally across the street from The Public House (go figure). While waiting to be seated, we met with some friends and were seated immediately. Good conversation and food was had with of course, more booze. We ended up catching a ride back to our hotel and immediately stripped down and back into PJ’s for the remaining night’s activity: ghost hunting!

Keep in mind, we’re not new to this ghost investigating in our PJ’s thing. Been there, done that – we have no shame. In fact, we actually headed downstairs to the lobby to grab a drink to kick-start our adventure. There, we met bartender, Kevin, whom I immediately questioned, with drink in hand, about his experiences at the hotel. He explained how he’d observed a glass combust out of nowhere and referred us to a woman named, Michelle, who could take us around the hotel. Eventually, he disappeared for a bit and Michelle appeared to be our ‘tour guide.’ She was an absolute blast! Funny, no-holds-bar, type attitude. She ended up taking us to the Gold Room banquet hall where a Peg Leg man was theorized to appear. We mentioned wanting to hit the south tower as I had previously researched it was allegedly the most ‘active’ area to investigate. We headed up to the 12th floor at which time Michelle continue to give us back-story on some of the apparitions believed to be haunting the hotel. She even mentioned how someone had fallen over the stair railing back on NYE and had plummet to the 9th but still managed to survive (though all sorts of fucked up as a result, naturally). At one point, I brought up room 441 which, I had read, was supposedly the most haunted room with a female apparition that would kick the bed while people slept. Michelle was familiar with this story and admitted she hadn’t even been on that floor. She also advised that the entire south tower was technically ‘closed’ since business was slow. As such, we were roaming dark hallways in silence and it was absolutely GLORIOUS! After reaching room 441, we hung out for a bit. Sharon and I used our recording device to do a session. While asking questions and awaiting replies, Michelle would hilarious butt in with whispered responses and at one point, ‘boo’ed the crap out of us! She laughed, we laughed but we were also partially annoyed. It was at this point we realized, nothing was seriously going to get done with her. So we headed back downstairs to the bar and grabbed us a few Moscato’s which Michelle gave us on the house (I think she seriously felt bad about scaring us). Ironically, as we sat and drank, a plethora of people were abound now in the bar. A young man to our right sparked some conversation and we ended up finding out he was on a stop-off for a ghost-tour. Sweet! After speaking with him very briefly, I attempted to ‘overhear’ information from the tour guide but between the bar noise and my own inebriation, it was pretty pointless so I gave us pretty much immediately.

Upon the additional intoxication, we made our way back up to the south tower and the 12th floor and made our way down, ghost hunting gear in hand. We, of course, stopped off at room 441 once again and loitered for quite some time but to our grave disappointment, experienced no phenomenon. To much chagrin, we took our down-trodden selves back to our hotel room at which point, I looked over my photos from the night’s activities for potential orbs and Sharon played back our audio until we were basically fell asleep. We conked out fairly quickly that night with much discomfort (those beds are god awful) and again, headed out relatively early in the morning to trek to the blue line and to the much beloved and abhorred, monkey (Bear) at home.

Sunday was a mixed day of catching up on terribly awesome tv shows and Sharon ‘wasting’ (in my opinion) her birthday cooking short-ribs for dinner (seriously, who cooks on their own birthday?)! Presents were opened and much contentment to the joy of being back at home were indulged. The evening was concluded with the inevitable dread of the incoming Monday which we could only DREAM of ghosting.

Boo-gy and Boo-ze Birthday Party planning had been premeditated a few weeks prior which, per usual, escalated from one idea to a wonderful thread of several, awesome ones!

#birthday #birthday weekend #chicago #ghost haunting

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uterusclub · 6 years

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I’ll be quite honest. I’ve never been a Christmas fan. Too much effort. And I despise the fact that the ‘magical’ element of it makes people only temporarily nice. Why can’t we just be nice, civilized individuals year-round? In any case, my counter-part and yin to my yang or yang to my yin (whichever is the more pleasant of the two) feels the complete opposite of me. As such, I agreed and assisted upon co-executing a holiday weekend of merriment – but mostly because it incorporated Krampus, pretty lights, the glory of ballet and much, much more I consider not revolting.

Marley was dead: to begin with. Just kidding. We’ll get to that later. In all seriousness though, our Christmas extravaganza started with an accumulation of Facebook events that conveniently made themselves known. From there, we filled in the gaps with other conveniences until we’d finalized a pristine piece of itinerary even Frommers would be envious of. Three days of non-stop (mostly) festivities awaited us one fine afternoon and to this, we invite ye.

Our afternoon kicked off on Friday after researching the holiday, CTA train schedule and realizing we only had one opportunity to catch it. Sure, I’ve seen the train in passing before but I really wanted to jump aboard and see what the big deal was – plus Sharon hadn’t even seen it! Game – plan – set. Climb aboard at 4:30pm and take the train to Belmont for some quick Christmas shopping before heading to the parent’s house to steal their decorations! So, upon racing home from work and dolling ourselves up with make-up (the likes of which we abhor), we briskly made out way to the Jefferson Park stop and awaited the train. As we walked, I felt the gnaw of anxiety from past incidences when I somehow recalled a wrong time or place. This was of utmost importance! But the fear quickly subsided once we noticed the accumulation of children and families formulating on the platform next to us. After boo-ing the preceding trains for their lackluster appearance, we were finally greeted with the most exuberant of transportation. The train was crowded, no doubt – and for good reason! We shuffled in, passing an elf holding a bowl of wrapped candy canes and gazed up to light-strewn ceilings. Children abounded and there wasn’t a frown in the crowd! If only every CTA commute could be as such! Once we reached Belmont, we piled out with our fellow commuters and made our way to Five Below and Discovery before returning and taking a staggeringly less delightful train to my parent’s house.

I suppose I should explain our ‘stealing’ Christmas decorations from my parents. Since living in our condominium complex shrouded of mostly old people, we’ve taken it upon ourselves to ‘liven’ up the place with our balcony-decorating ‘inspirations.’ Having said that, our ravens from Halloween were upgraded with Santa hats (namely because we were too lazy to remove them – but also, because it’s hilarious!).

In any case, we noticed that the neighboring balconies began to supply their own displays of merriment to which, of course, need be met with aggressive competition! So, there you have it. We just need to outshine the old people (naturally). After going through trunks and trunks of my parent’s old decorations, we came out with a few boxes of lights and a tablecloth. Super disappointing but free is free! Treasure in tow, we bided our time until our next activity: Creepy Christmas!

After bundling up, packing a few ciders and being chauffeured out the door, my dad dropped us off for the beginning of our evening activities. I had discovered a Facebook event through a restaurant called Fannie’s not too far from our house hosting a ‘dark,’ Christmas event. After discovering Krampus a few years ago, this was right up my alley – plus, it was BYOB, had a buffet and was super close to home. Win-win-win!

Upon arriving at Fannie’s, we were met by a hostess and seated at the front table with two, elderly ladies. Immediately, we felt at home. It only took a few minutes for us to get well acquainted with Rita (a/k/k/ “Bubbles”) and Katie at our table who we later learned were the grandmothers of the two gentlemen ‘performing’ the show tonight. They were most delightful, let me just say. We managed to down our drinks fairly quickly which was sort of surprisingly but ‘time flies when you’re having fun’ as they say. And that we were! Not only was the ‘performance’ hysterical, but the audience interactive was actually quite fun (this coming from people who don’t like to participate in things). Let’s also not forget the ‘learning’ portion of different ‘legends’ and ‘creatures’ of dark nature. At one point, we were asked to create our own, dark Christmas story to which of course, I wrote about Bear eating the flesh of children. Two-ish hours later and the event was unofficially over. We were amped. And we are never amped at 9:30pm – which worked out really well since our next activity didn’t until 11pm.

Yes, we’d both been dreading exactly how we were going to survive until 11pm. We’re generally in bed, nice and cozy by 9:30pm! In any case, my motivation was nothing short of the brilliance that is The Muppet Christmas Carol! If you haven’t seen it, for SHAME! Just kidding. But really, go see it or we shall never speak again. It is, I jest you not, one of the best Christmas movies of all time. It’s absolutely FABULOUS! So when I found out that a ‘band’ was going to perform songs from the movie at a nearby bar, I was all in. But it was only 9:30pm. Hmmmm….

I had partially joked about stopping at my favorite karaoke joint, Sidekick’s, to kill time in-between our Friday night venues but by the time we left, we were too stuffed to even consume alcohol. Also, I theorized that if we walked to the bar instead of catching the blue line, our commute would take much longer, thereby, killing more time – PLUS, we’d work off some food. So there you have it. We walked all the way from Montrose and Milwaukee to Irving and Pulaski until finally reaching Independence Tap. Might I add, the walk felt fairly short and was slightly enchanting with the addition of the season’s first snow!

After finally arriving at Independence Tap, we surveilled the area for a good place to loiter. Sharon grabbed us drinks and we headed to the back area where the elderly crowd shifted into youthful faces even I cannot compete with. Unfortunately, a ‘band’ was already in progress and was pretty god-awful so we stood around in pain and agony until a table opened up and grabbed ourselves some seats. 30 minutes later, our agony was reprieved. The ‘band’ performing The Muppet Christmas Carol consisted of just three guys – one sounding strikingly like Kermit the Frog (he must be a big fan). In any case, three songs in, an obnoxious lady appeared right by the side of our table, hanging drunkenly over her boyfriend. The discomfort became pretty unbearable at which point, Sharon arranging for an Uber and we shuttled back home to peacefully pass from the night’s endeavors.

The following morning, upon drowsily making our faces back up, we headed to the Jefferson Park CTA station to catch the train downtown to the Christkindlemarket.

Unfortunately, upon arrival, we realized we were an hour too early and instead, made out way to our other, scheduled stop: Bombobar! I happened upon a video of this place by luck on Facebook and made a mental note to hit it up for hot chocolate consumption and there was certainly no better time than the here and now! After freezing our bullocks off for what felt like the longest trek of all time (Lord of the Rings aint got nothing on us), we arrived and ordered and I immediately jetted my iced bum (apparently I’ve become British) to the bathroom (or should say I say ‘loo’). When I returned, I was met with two, cream-whipped portions of magical, chocolatey delight! After an intense photo session, we sat down by a heating lamp outside and drowned ourselves in nostalgic wonderment.

With ample sugar-shock, we sped back to the Christkindlemarket in what felt like a teleported haze and arrived, early. People had already begun to formulate around the different entrances circling the fenced off huts. We stood eagerly, huddling our backs to the wind and scorning our faces from the cold. Watching, waiting, we bided our time with silly videos and discussed a plan that in actuality never came into fruition. But here’s why. After being careened into the actual marketplace, the entire area filled with people. It was mass chaos at its worst! We had barely covered any ground before we were immediately caught in stop-and-start traffic. I was awed and enraged. Ornaments? Fuck ornaments – I can barely move! So we skipped the shopping and as I felt my icicled fingers worsening with every second we stood still, I urged Sharon to find whatever food she desired so we could abort this terrible plan. While in line, Sharon debated between a bratwurst and pretzel while I debated life without fingers. Twas not a pleasant thought. Once we made it to the front of the line, Sharon ordered a ‘small’ pretzel and I filmed as some lady ‘mistakenly’ took her freshly made order! The lady’s husband laughed and joked – pointing out that I’d caught the entire altercation on camera. But I was not amused. Making our way out of the closest exit, we circle back around the outside of the market to take a few pictures before heading back to the Blue line and getting our butts back home!

By the time we returned to our apartment, we were already mentally and physically over the day (which puts us at noon, sadly). Unfortunately, we were only at our allotted, two-hour intermission and had the remaining day full of activities ahead of us! While we ‘recovered’ from our morning, we chilled and enjoyed warmth and motionlessness for as long as possibly before heading off once again – this time, in motor vehicle to the horror that is Lincoln Park. I mostly say ‘horror’ because the parking blows and the people are super pretentious which in my book, is reason enough to dread.

Sharon pre-arranged our parking situation, which took longer than anticipated thanks to the confusing ‘directions’ on the parking app and every building looking basically the same. After parking, we scheduled an Uber to pick us up and drive us to a Christmas bar called Butch McGuire’s Sharon had been dying to see. Our Uber driver and ride were nothing short of uncomfortable. I’ve never been in a silent Uber where the driver jams out to her own, ear-plugged tunes and ignores you unless you mention something – like how you thought her furry steering wheeling was cool. Well, it was. We were eventually dropped off near the bar and upon closing in, noticed a line formed down the street. Our patience lasted maybe five minutes before we couldn’t handle it! Between the whore-bags smoke in front of us (Sharon quit) and the whore-bags behind us (kept bumping into me and were astoundingly loud), there was just no way. Sharon defeatedly suggested we leave and just head over to the Lincoln Park Zoo Lights early. I made a point to take a quick, creepy video of the inside patrons before continuing onward.

Now I’m generally a fan of walking – I am – truly but add in some snow and cold and Chicago wind and my quirky coat with a hood that won’t stay up and it’s a whole other ballgame. Regardless, we made it to Lincoln Park Zoo without a hitch and already noted a few ‘exhibits’ lit up (we were early, yet again). Sharon wanted to see the monkeys and cats anyway and I just wanted to be warm again so we hit up a few of the animal houses until the sky dimmed in preparation of light show gloriousness. The zoo wasn’t crazily crowded – at least not enough to distract us from our casual wanderings.

Twenty minutes in, we placed an order for a pizza potpie at Chicago Pizza and Oven Grinder Co. to pick up on our way back to the car (we make really good plans ahead of time), which we had perfectly timed. Last time we ate at this place, it was a goddamn disaster! The wait and crowd was absolutely unbelievable and unacceptable! The pizza’s decent, sure, but I will never again, in my lifetime, wait almost two hours for pizza – even if it’s in a potpie form. Having said that, we headed out of the zoo mostly on schedule and walked over to grab our pie. We noted the elaborate, expected line formed out the door and down the block and brush right through it to the ‘pick up’ section just outside the kitchen area. And please believe me when I say that I am not exaggerating when I said there was absolutely no place to stand! Bundled up with crowded employees swerving in and out and all around you while scooching away from patrons waiting for the bathroom chipped away at my last nerve. Our pizza, of course, wasn’t ready, despite the entire purpose of pre-ordering was to avoid this hysterical, pizza circus. If Hell is a place, it is certainty that wait area. We were both on the verge of murder the entire time, which only subsided upon receipt of our late, not-even-worth-it-anymore order.

Sharon counted down the minutes as we walked back to the car, hoping to find it without any difficulty. Everything was hurting at this point; my neck – my legs – my soul. We needed to get home and fast! As luck would have it, traffic wasn’t horrendous once we got on the expressway. Our drive was fairly quiet due to the pure exhaustion and hunger, which had, at this point, broken our spirits. Once home, pjs were commandeered and we suffocated ourselves in warmth. Food was consumed immediately and we deliriously headed off to our beds to await the last and final day of our extravaganza.

For our final hurrah of the weekend, we jump-started our Sunday morning with my habitual, 9am WERQ class then immediately headed home to shower. Once re-glamored for the record-breaking THIRD day in a row (poor pores), we headed back over to the Jefferson Park blue line once more to grab a train headed downtown. Fortunately, today’s agenda was fairly ‘light’ in comparison with the preceding days, however, let us not overlook the bodily exhaustion of the night prior. I could feel the tense strain from fighting last night’s cold in my quads. I also think I tied my l.e.d shoes too tight since my ankle’s were also slurring a moan or two.

After hopping aboard the blue line for our last adventure, we made our way to the infamous Clark and Lake and walked down to Michigan Avenue to reach Dylan’s Candy Bar. Now, I’d never heard of this place before and just happened upon a Travelzoo discount deal for it which included 2 jars of ‘bulk’ candy. Seeing as how Sharon and I had already pre-arranged a Hershey House decoration competition (because gingerbread sucks), it seemed convenient we gather our supplies in an uber appropriate fashion! Once we reached said store, much chaos ensued. I don’t know how or why I was shocked by the abundance of people surrounding us – this WAS Michigan Avenue after all but it became pretty annoying fairly quickly. After inquiring for instructions and being handed empty cupcake-looking jars, we were left to our own devices. Neither of us had planned for this and I’m not the best at improv so I made my way up and down the two levels several different times to research my options but more importantly, attempt to visualize my masterpiece. Problem was, I really couldn’t concentrate amidst the constant hustle and bustle surrounding me so my game-plan merely turned into picking things I would actually consume – which certainly narrowed down my options. If you know me, you know I don’t actually like ‘candy’ – there’s just no real substance to it. So I basically went ‘chocolate’ the entire way. I packed in as many white, chocolate-covered items as possible and with time to spare, supplemented the voided cracks with a slew of nerds (after recalling that video everyone posted about that college professor discussing filling a jar – you know what I’m referencing, right?). Eventually locating Sharon, we made away with our filled-to-the-hilt cupcake containers and headed back towards State street to view the very Christmas in Chicago cliché of Macy’s windows.

I don’t personally recall having done this before – although I’m sure I have but I honestly wasn’t too impressed. Plus, as always, there was a shit ton of other people on the streets which makes it nearly impossible to actually get a good look at anything. But, we achieved said goal and in the process, I mentioned going to the Walnut Room to check out the tree. This is another thing I can’t recall having done before. I mean I’ve been to the Walnut Room for other occasions but not for the tree. I had a silly little thought about catching a drink when we got up there but once we reached the seventh floor and spilled out into the near vicinity of everything, that thought laughed in my dumbfounded face. Again, I don’t know how or why I was shocked but people abounded everywhere. We struggled to merge around to try getting a good LOOK at the tree, let alone a picture. After almost immediately giving up, I noticed a sign by a stairway suggesting the 8th floor for a better view. So we hiked up quickly and took an abundance of pictures before climbing back down. I grabbed some Frango mints for my mom (her favorite) before we left and we continued on our ‘merry’ way all the way down to the Auditorium Theater. The walk was brutal. Not for any extraordinary reason – just our tired, hungry, weary bodies. The only saving grace was The Nutcracker and hopefully – alcohol.

Upon arriving at The Auditorium Theater, we were ecastic! The Nutcracker has been and will forever be my all-time Christmas tradition. The holidays are just not complete without it! We even DRESSED for the occasion – meaning, I found us some uber Christmasy – what I believe to be – pjs – from Meijers several months ago and mine was most obviously, Nutcrackerific! We were complimented several times on our outfits which was awesome (I’m such a dance nerd). Thing is, I was only recently made aware that The Joeffrey Ballet’s rendition of the Nutcracker was NEW this year! After years and years of a traditional story line and performance, they just NOW decided to create a new vision of the entire production which, I guess I was open to. After grabbing some very strong drinks (which we had desperately needed), we took our seats and reviewed our weekend photos until the performance began.

I really wish we would have drank a whole lot more prior to this performance. It started off ‘ok,’ I suppose. I’ve honestly never been the greatest fan of the opening to the entire piece in general so I could give or take a change or two with that. It wasn’t until the second half kicked off – where Clara is in another ‘world’ that all the really good stuff goes down. Unfortunately, the ‘really good stuff’ was replaced with really questionable, awkward, dumb stuff! Instead of the Russian dancers performing to one of the most well known songs of all time, we were met with a cowboy and saloon girls! Instead of the big woman on stilts and her dancing children, we were met with a big woman on stilts and her dancing walnuts?! Like, literally, what in the FUCK was happening? Not to mention, Sugar Plum Fairy was one of the very FIRST performances we watched once the second half kicked off which I immediately corrected aloud, ‘That’s not the right order.’ Not that I’m a Nutcracker Natzi but come on, man! Some things must traditionally remain the same – for the sake of my nostalgia and memory. Also, might I add that not one tutu was observed the entire show? None! What kind of ‘ballet’ can you possibly have without one goddamn tutu?! Suffice it to say, after my ‘favorite’ song (Pas De Deux) concluded, we jetting out to take some photos downstairs in the lobby. We bitched and moaned the entire way back to the blue line and headed home to our warm apartment and comfy couch. After ordering delivery for our most beloved, Sunday sushi, we headed to bed – dreams of weirdo walnuts dancing in our heads.

Slaying the Season I’ll be quite honest. I’ve never been a Christmas fan. Too much effort. And I despise the fact that the ‘magical’ element of it makes people only temporarily nice.

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uterusclub · 7 years

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It seemed odd and slightly frustrating that every time I mentioned visiting New Mexico to someone, it was met with preposterousness. Surely one would be more open-minded and curious about the lesser known or explored locations of the world instead of continuously dabbling in the cliched overkills of touristy vacation spots. It wasn’t until I came across a venue situated in Santa Fe, New Mexico that I became absolutely obsessed with the idea of visiting: The Meow Wolf. Described as a psychedelic fun house and part art display and music venue, the videos and articles I read absolutely enthralled me. If my personality and spirit could be placed within the confines of a structured building, this would be its home. Naturally upon my discovery of this place, I immediately reported to Sharon which in turn, snowballed into the idea of a Halloween weekend vacation in New Mexico! But wait! What else would we do there? It took a few weeks and a lot of research but eventually we succeeded in what we do best – a well-executed itinerary! Restaurants were studied, hotels were researched and activities were scheduled in accordance to location, timing and ratings. We are professionals after all. And with that, we were on our way!

Thanks to my Southwest credit card, our round trip tickets to New Mexico were free – save for our blue line commute to Midway Airport which was slightly delayed after finding out there was some re-route work going on. My time paranoia mildly nagged until we were safely situated at the airport and flew through security. And being the professional travelers we are, we prepped our flight with some Halloween-themed movies for entertainment! Our journey started with Hocus Pocus and continued with The Others. Three hours later, we arrived in Albuquerque, New Mexico!

After grabbing our checked bags, we waited in the ever growing shuttle line for car rentals to grab our transit. Shortly thereafter, I found myself easily talked into a vehicle upgrade. Mustang? Why yes, that sounds delightful! White, white, or red? I believe the correct answer is ‘red!’ And with that, I was tossed back into my car-rental driving anxiety which is absolutely terrifying. A Mustang and Volkswagen Beetle are two very different things. It didn’t help that the gas pedal was super touchy either! Thank goodness I had Sharon to GPS me around these strange lands so I could solely concentrate on not killing us.

Our first stop on the agenda was to the Turquoise Museum which I’d purchased a Groupon for ahead of time but since we were already starving and had a little bit of time to kill before our tour reservation, we headed to a joint I’d randomly come across on a list of the best grilled cheese sandwiches throughout the United States. Cinched for time, we ordered and grabbed a sandwich to go before heading out. Arriving a few minutes early for our tour, the museum was situated at a shopping center and looked well, nothing like a museum! Too hangry to concern ourselves just yet, we walked into the building and upon being greeting by the owner, scarfed down our food.

To say this museum sucked would be an understatement. To say the owner was a pretentious douche-bag would also be an understatement. We came to find out no one else was scheduled for a tour so McDouchebag just took us around the ‘museum’ at his leisure randomly quizzing and interrogating us with history and science and our personal life choices. I didn’t know there was going to be a test! I guess McDouchebag finally got tired of his own voice or perhaps finally accepted that we really didn’t give a shit about anything he was saying because he eventually left us to roam around and explore. Sharon and I immediately looked at each in what can only be described as annoyed horror. We didn’t want to stick around. We didn’t want to stay one more minute in the presence of this psychotic but that would be rude and even more uncomfortable than the already statically charged air we were suffocating from. So per our usual tactic, we feigned interest until we could progressively slink ourselves closer and closer to the entrance. Upon almost reaching freedom, McDouchebag bid us his final words of wisdom after relaying how much his shirt cost, of course, and unlocked the front door. Yes, you read that correct. We had been locked in that joint the entire time. Literal escape room from hell! We cringed and shuddered and spiritually cleansed ourselves of the evil on the way back to the car and as I like to re-imagine, sped off like a bat out of hell (except this bat drives extra safe in rentals so this is highly inaccurate).

Traumatized by the underhanded shortcomings of our museum adventure, we found ourselves very pleased to be checking into our hotel early to explore the grounds. Sharon had researched and booked a place by the name of Hotel Parq Central which was a former hospital and psychiatric facility believe to be haunted. It also had a bar on the roof it was famous for on account of the view so win-win! After checking in, we headed to the roof-top bar called Apothecary Lounge for their happy hour as booze was much needed. We medicated with some Angry Orchards and decided to head out for an early dinner at a place I had discovered called Canvas Artistry. After driving and parking down the street from the restaurant, we noticed several cute shops and did a little, quick perusal. Nothing caught our fancy so we headed directly to the restaurant. The joint, while super artsy with tattoo-inspired wall pieces was super dead and our waitress was absolutely terrible. I’ve never seen someone so emotionally removed from human interaction (aside from myself at times but even I attempt to appear otherwise for the sake of formality). In any case, we ordered some chips with an accoutrements of salsa and cheese dips and awaited our entrees. Our food was, as I put things, ‘meh.’ Nothing spectacular. Actually, pretty disappointing. So we headed out and stopped at one final store where Sharon grabbed a mini, sequined sombrero for Bear the cat. After heading back to the hotel, we made another trip to the rooftop bar before the end of happy hour while we waited for a spectacular view of the sunset. Day one: completed!

The next morning we grabbed an early, complimentary breakfast in our hotel lobby and made our way out towads Sante Fe, New Mexico – about an hour north of Albuquerque. Sharon had researched a place called Tinkertown which was on the way to the rest of our Santa Fe festivities so we stopped there first. Aside from the bitter cold of this outdoor ‘exhibit’ which we later discovered was being closed down for the season the very next day (hence the lack of heat), this place was heart-warming! As you make your way through this very unique twists and turns of vintage characters and music, you’re instantly transformed into another dimension! From coin-slotted accordions and fortune-tellers to circus and after-life displays of animated figures to random, inspirational quotes, your mind is engorged on sensory overload! Naturally, the exhibit began and ended in the main entrance area of a gift shop where we met and spoke with a wonderful woman who’s husband, deceased now, hand-crafted every single figure on display! The entire experience was very awe-inspiring to say the least and probably in my top three of our trip endeavors.

Returning to the car for much desired warmth and cranking our Halloween tunes, we continued our way up the ‘Turquoise Trail‘ (as they call it) towards the aforementioned, Meow Wolf! This drive, I cannot stress enough, was the most amazing view of mountain and desert.

Sharon filmed a good portion of our drive on account of just how beautifully peaceful the entire ride was. Naturally we stopped on several occasions for video and photo opts. There truly are no words to do this justice so I wont try. Shortly thereafter, we finally arrived at the Meow Wolf.

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In hindsight, we really should have scheduled Meow Wolf on a weekday since well, weekends are fairly chaotic for most places of entertainment but alas, this was unfortunately an after thought. Arriving at the entrance, we were met with a long line of families. Sharon, being the resourceful genius she is, immediately jumped on her phone and ordered tickets so we could bypass the chaos in front of us. Bam! Talk about efficiency. Upon grabbing tickets and being given the ‘spiel’ about the venue, we immediately headed to the restrooms which were situated down a long, black light corridor of wall art. I was already in love with this place. Bladders empty, we headed inside.

Nothing can truly prepare you for this experience. It’s confusing and nonsensical and bright and random but in the best possible way. We were told you could follow some sort of ‘story line’ throughout the exhibit but we were also told you could just wander about. We chose the latter which was the less obnoxious way to roam about as you could avoid constantly rubber-necking over other people to read the necessary information. And if I’m totally being honest, the already chaotic nature of the number of people in all areas at all times was super stunting. Ideally, being left alone in the Meow Wolf would truly be a mind trip. Or an awesome music video. Or both, really. But with massive amount of people involved, the magic becomes much less impactful. Still, it did not disappoint.

Departing the Meow Wolf, we made a quick stop at a nearby shopping area by the name of Jackalope. Roaming through aisles and aisles of crafts and arts, Sharon eventually settled on a home-made heart ornament for our Christmas tree. Prize in tow, we next headed to some much desired brunch. Every trip we take, I always research restaurants featured on television shows and this was one of them: Cowgirl Santa Fe. The name is very misleading in that it comes off sounding like a super cheesy, lame place but honestly, the indoor decor was impressively interesting and entailed famous, historic cowgirls. Talk about your girl power. But that wasn’t all. The food? Yes, the food was superb! Stomach’s uncomfortably full, our next activities were the Santa Fe Botanical Gardens and the Georgia O’Keefe Museum.

Once again, I had used the awesome power of Groupon for obtaining tickets for the Santa Fe Botanical Gardens which, in actuality, ended up being one of the saddest thing I had ever seen. And perhaps this wasn’t fair – being from Chicago and all – and the fact that, well, can you really have that high of expectations for a botanical garden when you’re in desert country? Regardless, Sharon and I took a quick, disappointed stroll around (namely to digest our brunch) and questioned the ‘art’ randomly displayed throughout the garden before making our departure. Next on our roster was the vagina museum – I mean, the Georgia O’Keeffee Museum – same difference.

Now I personally don’t know much about Georgia O’Keeffee – other than your basic, vagina painting but Sharon was all about this lady so I walked into this whole thing completely blind. The thing was though, I didn’t see one vagina painting there and I was actually kind of disappointed. The entire museum was more based on other people’s photographs of Georgia O’Keeffee which we both thought was pretty lame. I did take one picture of a butt painting – just to salvage something from our visit. I can’t say I attempted to read or learn anything about Georgia O’Keeffee either but I’m just not a museum person. Bottom line: no vaginas = we’re out!

At this point in our day, we were completely exhausted! Our game-plan had been to hit up a cider house for dinner later but we opted to make a quick stop at a chocolate shop called Kakawa Chocolate House (was ‘meh’) before heading to our hotel, Drury Plaza Hotel. After checking in, we were given complimentary drink tickets for the hotel bar which we utilized shortly thereafter. Upon lounging around our hotel room for several hours – catching up on quality television, we eventually made ourselves decent for dinner at Eloisa situated upstairs. The only drawback to traveling in my opinion is how completely jacked my stomach becomes. Having said that, I wasn’t very hungry due to my stomach’s inability to process the already consumed food so we kept our meal pretty short and simple before heading back to our room.

Our final morning in Santa Fe, New Mexico, we shoved in as many last minute adventures as possible. Grabbing a quick, complimentary breakfast, we immediately headed out for some shopping we had forgone the day before. Following a swing and a miss on that, we headed out to the Santa Fe Brewing Company to try some cider. After arriving at the Santa Fe Brewing Company a tad too early, we walked around the parking lot and eventually noticed the door was open so we wandered inside and warmed ourselves up. Upon being greeting by an employee, we were informed that this was not the correct building and were rerouted across the parking lot to a fenced in building. We came to realize this fence was locked but were finally – after loitering for a moment – admitted to the tasting room area. With three ciders on draft, we requested a (shared) three cider flight and begrudgingly concluded these ciders were not our thing. But alcohol is alcohol! So we choked them down and awaited our reprisal drive down the Turquoise Trail.

After indulging ourselves once again with the amazing view that is the Land of Enchantment (ie New Mexico), we now made our way to our spare of the moment endeavor of visiting an Alpaca Farm! Yes, that’s right! Why an Alpaca? What’s an Alpaca? Who really knows? But they’re animals. Arriving at Hollywick Farms, we parked near a sign that requested we honk upon arrival which I was afraid would spook the animals so I declined. A small, lovely elderly woman emerged from a small shack at the beginning of the gated entrance and bid us to follow her inside. We perused the closeted gift-shop for a few minutes until the elderly woman’s husband, Bill appeared. After brief introductions, Bill took us over to the actual ‘farm’ area to meet and greet the Alpacas. Now this, friends, was one of my most favorite parts of our trip. Not only are these creatures cute and sweet but they’re also a bit strange and hilariously curious. Bill taught us how to exchange a nose kiss with certain Alpacas which was adorably easy. We then met the wonderfully fluffy guard dogs who I, obviously, fell in love with and obsessed over for the remainder of our tour. All in all, a wonderful highlight of our trip!

In continuing our journey and after returning to Albuquerque, New Mexico, we now headed to the Sandia Peak Aerial Tramway. Sharon gets all the credit for researching this one. So basically, you tram up the mountains for about 15 minutes to the top of this absolutely gorgeous view and hang out for however long you desire before heading back either by return tram or hiking! While I, ironically, love roller coasters, there was something much more daunting about the longevity of this escalation. Still, aside from my unwarranted nervousness, the round trip view was astounding! My only request would be the accompaniment of mountain-theme songs during the ride. You know, a little ‘Aint No Mountain High Enough,’ ‘Climb Every Mountain,’ ‘In the Hall of the Mountain King’ – I could go on. Apparently at some point, Sharon caught wind of some famous guy on our tram after hearing someone’s over-excitement at his presence. We have no clue who this guy was. So clearly, he can’t be that awesome.

Our day was scheduled to conclude with some final, light shopping in the downtown area of Albuquerque, New Mexico where we had also planned our final dinner, The Church Street Cafe. After finally finding a wolf-orientated birthday gift for my mother, we grabbed dinner and drinks (which were delicious) and headed to our hotel, Hotel Cascada. Now this hotel was the least fancy of the three and I think it really hit home after feeling posh the previous two nights. Regardless, we were too exhausted to care much and ended our night with some brief television before passing out.

The conclusion of our New Mexico trip was strategically chill. After hitting up our traditional visits to two local Plato’s Closets, Sharon stopped off to grab some new headphones for the plane-ride back and we made one final stop-off for food: Frank’s Famous Chicken & Waffles. Dare I say, this was another Groupon purchase? Yes, I dare. And perhaps we should all learn a good lesson from this. Do not. Trust. The Groupon. At least not for your out of town trips. Having said that, I actually apologized to Sharon after our meal. The restaurant, itself was kinda cute and kitchy but all in all, the food was, once again, ‘meh.’ I do hate to end on a sour note.

In any case, with nothing left on our agenda and feeling already antsy to return home, we made our way to the car rental area early to relieve ourselves of the Mustang (which had sorta grown on me) and headed to the airport. Security lines at the airport were pretty non-existent which allotted us even more time to kill before our flight home. Once situated at our gate, we proceeded to finish watching The Others until being interrupted by a nearby, disabled man needing assistance with his motor-chair. Sharon very obligingly helped the elderly gentleman with his vehicle while I sat and filmed. Back on the plane, we continued our movie viewing and excitedly, arrived back to Chicago earlier than scheduled. After grabbing our baggage from the carousal at Midway, we awaited my parent’s car in the blistering cold of Chicago. And although this city lacks beautiful mountains and serene deserts and nose-kissing Alpacas, I’d trade it all for the the disenchanting traffic noise welcoming me back home.

The Girls Who Cried Meow Wolf It seemed odd and slightly frustrating that every time I mentioned visiting New Mexico to someone, it was met with preposterousness.

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uterusclub · 7 years

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Adorable

#alpaca #alpacalove #kisses #gif #cute #cuteness #cute animals #aww #love

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uterusclub · 7 years

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This years annual clown party was a great success! Read about it on the blog: http://bit.ly/2yDAcTp

#clown #clowns #clowncat #cat #halloween #costume #kitty #kittycat #clownparty #blogger #blog

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uterusclub · 7 years

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I can’t say for sure how we initially stumbled upon the brilliant idea of having a ‘clown party’ but approximately three years ago, it’s magnificence was born.

If I had to guess, I’d hypothesize the concept spawned from a casual night of sitting around discussing terrible horror movies featuring clowns which (naturally) snowballed into designating an all-clown movie marathon of sorts. But that wasn’t enough. We needed elaboration. But how? With what? Food? Yes, of course, food! And so, it was decided, traditionally speaking, that ‘clown food’ would be incorporated into our parties. Last year we got a little overly-ambitious and made the entire day a marathoning of clown foods included pancakes, burgers, pizza and cake which we discovered to be too much a. time b. effort and c. food. So now we stick to the basics: pizza and cake. Generic party food? Yes. But not in the way we fashion them…

Clown Cake | Year 1

Clown Cake | Year 2

The pizza. The first year we arranged our clown party, I used my expert, investigative skills and discovered a pizza place called Little Clown Pizza. I was in awe. It couldn’t have been more perfect. Or could it? Because in our minds this still just wasn’t enough. What if . . . what if we requested they make a clown pizza? Yes! Each and every year, we fatefully ordered a ‘clown pizza’ from a nearby restaurant and awaited the potential horror or delight of their interpretation. First year? Our pizza was practically inedible. I recall there being mustard and ketchup involved (dear god, why?). Last year? Last year was a slight step up – although they did incorporate black olives which is a huge no-no for us. But it was definitely progress.

Clown Pizza | Year 1

Clown Pizza | Year 2

And as for this year…

Friday the thirteenth. We had been looking forward to this day for weeks now and our game-plan was set. First, start the cake – then, walk to Rex Tavern down the street to take a photo (explanation on this soon), after that – order pizza while cake cools, then – start movies and finish decorating cake during intermission. Solid plan.

Having already, anxiously accumulated our baking gear earlier in the week, Sharon began making our clown cake utilizing some freshly bought skull pans she’d purchased. Our shit was going 3d this year! I had my doubts, though. I honestly felt this was just way too ambitious for a bunch of amateurs. I mean, fondant? Yikes! This was a whole other playing field of baking. But Sharon was convinced we had this in the bag. Or rather, she did. I was mainly planning on watching (and drinking).

As the cake pan came out of the oven to cool, we headed out down the street to a nearby bar called Rex Tavern in Jefferson Park. Now this is generally not a part of our clown party tradition, however, we had both seen (on several occasions), the bar’s elaborate Halloween decorations which entailed a huge, creepified clown hanging in their front window. This was a must for our party! Walking over, our Moscow mules were in full effect. Perhaps I had made our drinks a tad bit strong earlier. In any case, there was no way we were sitting down for a drink – especially when we could as easily walk back home and have more, free drinks! So instead of actually going inside Rex’s and being good patrons, we skulked outside for a couple, quick pictures before heading back to the apartment at which point, we happened upon an additional window display featuring a clown. What are the odds? And with a snap, snap – bonus photo!

Rex Tavern | Chicago, IL

Jefferson Park | Chicago, IL

Back at the apartment, we began that most pleasant of activities: the ordering of the clown pizza. It was, conveniently, at this point when Sharon’s PTSD from last year kicked in.

“It’s your turn to call” she insisted.

I obliged immediately – for I have no shame. And for added dramatics and pleasure, we video recorded the entire phone exchange – although thanks to Sharon’s mom calling mid process, the recording cut out after being placed on hold. But to summarize, we called the Bacci’s Pizza joint down the street from us and explained our ‘situation’ before placing the order which, as anticipated, was met with delightful silence. Shortly thereafter, I was asked to be placed on hold to run our request passed the restaurant manager. Ten minutes later, our request was underway! Apparently the ten minute delay was the result of waiting on several cooks attempting to pull up clown images on their phones for artistic reference. We laughed, requested no olives, and were charged the price of a pepperoni pizza.

Now back to that cake.

Having finally cooled, Sharon commandeered the cakes from the skull pans with minor difficulty and coated them with a crumb layer of frosting for further refrigeration before covering with fondant. So, what now? It was movie time! On our agenda this year was Killer Clowns from Outer Space and a more recent flick simply titled, Clown. We began with KCFOS for no particular reason but I’m sort of glad we did. If you’ve never seen it, first off, how? If you have, well, you probably know where this going. Killer popcorn, cotton-candy cocoons, the excessive usage of ‘buddy’ and ‘pal – I mean, this movie has it all, really – not to mention the pizza-delivery scene! What perfection!

Once pizza arrived, I suggested to Sharon we video record the reveal to which she enthusiastically agreed. For dramatics, I slow-motioned the entire thing which tech-savvy Sharon said she could just edit on her phone. She’s fancy.

In any case, this year’s pizza was, I’d say, par from last year’s. It wasn’t terrible but it wasn’t anything impressive either. I feel fairly confident that if the tables were turned, I could knock out some super impressive clown artwork. But, that’s all in the fun – the not knowing. Perhaps next year we’ll brief the restaurant with images from past years – give them some idea as to the type of standards we’re working with. Wouldn’t take much to up the ante at this point.

After pizza was consumed and KCFOS was over, we reverted our attention back to the clown cake. Sharon rolled out some white fondant and covered the skull head quite impressively while I covered a cake ball with red fondant for a nose and two additional balls with white fondant for eyes. And while our clown cake was only loosely based on the ‘It’ clown, Sharon had come across some vampire-teeth candy corns to use and as such, found herself doctoring up a mouth hole. We then skewered the cavities into the mouth using toothpicks – all the while knowing we had no actual intention of consuming any part of this sugar-coated death-trap. Sharon smeared on some red lip coloring while I attached a jumbo red nose and two ridiculously bulky eyeballs topped with gummy pupils into the eye sockets.

“Ah, I think the balls are too much” Sharon replied.

“Yeah, it’s a little ‘AHHHHHHHHHHH'” I laughed.

So, we removed the eyeballs and reattached the gummy pupils. Much better. And now for the eyebrows. Fortunately, I had already decided earlier that morning to wear my ‘It’ t-shit so I was Sharon’s point of reference. As she stenciled along, drippage began – followed shortly by panic. Luckily, the drippage was short-lived but unfortunately, my suggestions were not.

“Are you going to do anything under the eye?” I asked.

“You think I should?”

“I mean, I think it’ll stand out more.”

And that was the beginning and end of my terrible ideas. Sharon did her best to outline the entire eye but ended up dripping into the pupils which had to be replaced with fresh gummies. By the time all was said and done, I had much regret. But the project was still not finished! Hair! This clown needed hair! Since day one Sharon had been going on and on about buying a cotton candy machine so we could make hair for this but I outright refused. Total waste. And cotton candy is awful. Regardless, I had gifted Sharon a bag of cotton candy last Easter that she had apparently forgotten all about. Poor guy had just been sitting in our cabinets collecting dusk and dreaming of the day his destiny would fall upon him – dreaming of becoming clown hair. Several toothpicks later, we had hair-plugged the shit out of this cake and it looked . . . well, actually, pretty decent. Still – there was no way this thing was being consumed.

“What should we do with it?” I asked.

“We can throw it in the river?”

I busted into laughter.

“What? . . . . what did you just say? This isn’t a dead body, Sharon!”

“No, didn’t they do that in the movie?”

“Uh . . . let’s just sleep on this one . . . ”

I later came up with an awesome master-plan of bringing the cake to a nearby restaurant I love called The Big Top and leaving it in the parking lot after hours as it would be super ironic and mysterious (not to mention creepy)! But after I called the restaurant to check their hours, it appeared the timing would have been quite impossible since there was no way we were going out after 9pm on a Sunday!

The night wrapped up with our final movie viewing: Clown. Now there isn’t really too much to say about it. Short synopsis: guy finds old clown suit in his house and puts it on for his kid’s birthday party ; guy can’t get clown suit off and finds out it’s stuck to him and eventually turns him into a demon (hate when that happens); guy eventually gets killed by his wife. And that’s about it. It was pretty gory, to say the least. It was also unamusing since we were both super exhausted that late at night and barely paying attention anyway. When we finally did turn in for bed, Sharon bid me adieu.

“I’m probably going to dream about clowns tonight” she proclaimed.

Scuffling off to bed I wondered if the Bacci cooks were all anticipating the same.

Clowning Around I can't say for sure how we initially stumbled upon the brilliant idea of having a 'clown party' but approximately three years ago, it's magnificence was born.

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