Every once in a while I’m reminded of how good it is to live in Chicago. It seems strange to me that a place I’ve left twice without hesitation still manages to draw me back in every time I return. For about 20 years I’ve had an extreme love/hate relationship with my fair city and this past weekend has surfaced a wave of emotions for me that I can’t quite explain, but I’ll try.

Let me preface this essay by explaining how much of a drunken shit show this past week has been. Let’s be real here, even after a month living a Tucson “lifestyle” I need a vacation. Especially Thanksgiving which, no thanks to anyone, I had nowhere to go/nothing to do except go out and get slizzard (yes that is a word and I just used it don’t judge) so when I come faceplanting in at 4am I realize I have no yet packed for the windy city. Seeing as my flight was leaving in a few hours I managed to throw various items that may or may not have been appropriate for Chicago travel and/or surviving being outside for more than 5 seconds. For example… a bathing suit may have been packed.

Per usual Rachel/Lindsay Lohan fashion I made it to the airport right as my plane was boarding. Barely missed the flight. Thank the flight gods I was accidentally upgraded to first class. And although I had an depressing amazing layover in the great city of Dallas all was well because DID YOU KNOW first class passengers get free cocktails?!

Cut to 7 hours and 7 bloody marys later… Meg remembers to pick me up from the El @ Belmont as we plan to immediately put on another layer of makeup and head to dinner. Did I mention the second I sauntered outside the station my face froze off? Poor packing. Just because a garment is marketed as a “coat” does not mean it provides “warmth” when it is 1/8th a millimeter thick. Packing fail #1.

So we cab it to Cafe Laguardia because Megan needs to eat 5 meals a day plus she has a bonus groupon (for those of you who do not know, a groupon is like a coupon, but with a g. obvi.) Surprisingly good! And for the record let’s not lie to ourselves about my twisted relationship with food. I may have only eaten about 2 oz worth of food but more than made up for it in cocktail consumption. Hey, you win some, you lose some.

After dinner we go to Jessica’s condo for a sort of cocktail get-together with some friends from highschool. Amazing to see everyone and that no one has changed… although I do believe we’ve managed to get our shit together… well, everyone except for me. Black sheep anyone? Going to miss you Brittany (Spears) Guynn have fun in Paris! And Lily = adorable. Beware of auntie Rachel. I mean seriously beware. I may not be allowed to visit you again until you’re 18. It’s best for us both.

Midnight rolls around and Megan and I once again drag ourselves off to my old/new/favorite bar Schubas to meet up with some old friends/coworkers and put drinks on Sam’s tab -standard. And to watch Bear Hands - but got too drunk to make their last set? Highlight of the night: we DO have Robyn’s “Body Talk” cd in the jukebox. May have put “Don’t Fucking Tell Me What to Do” on repeat and quickly became the anthem of the trip.

So Saturday begins and Megan and I decide it’s imperative that we drive to Wicker Park and blow a half years’ salary at Akira boutique because that’s what stable young women do, right? Add a buy one get the 2nd half off for everything (designer denim/coats/shoes) and now life is officially over. We even needed to take a beer break at Piece to slow our roll. More highlights of Wicker Park (I know it’s cliche but still my favorite shopping neighborhood)

One day I’ll be able to afford accessories at Stitch, but until then I’ll be the creepy girl in the corner taking pictures on her camera phone.

Although we only bought a coffee at Goddess and Grocer I almost found it necessary to steal this bike parked outside. My dream bike WILL look like this.

The rest of the night consisted of a ‘fairly’ tame dinner with extended family (no joke this time, although the peace was aided by a bottle of 2005 Chiani Classico) and movie night with mom. Have you seen “The Kids Are Alright”? This movie is amazing. You have GOT to see it.

And now we move along to Sunday Funday, aka Let The Shit Show Continue. I had 3 brunch plans to squeeze in but managed to do it with time to spare! Nothing says “welcome to your last brunch” like an obnoxious chorus of screams and mimosa pitcher thrown in your face by 5 of your closest friends. So what if I’m 2 1/2 hours late? That’s actually EARLY by my terms! Thankfully I extended my stay another day. I had anticipated this. To recap this day: Pictures may or may not have been taken. All I can say is, it’s a whole different atmosphere to watch a Bears game in Chicago rather than anywhere else. This should sum up part 4: Bears game.

And actually Meg and Micaela do look cute in this picture. Surprising, given the amount of alcohol they consumed in a 7 hour period. As in, surprising they kept their eyes open.

I wont even mention how we waddled over to Waterhouse to faceplant further into about 5 plates of appetizers and then pass out. Or how I stole a lit candle from State’s bathroom. Pumpkin Spice Yankee Candle in a bathroom? Once a klepto drunk, always a klepto drunk. You should see my collection.

Continue to Monday. My flight was not until 7:15pm so I had the entire day to spend with an old friend I haven’t seen in years. We started off the day with lunch at the Billy Goat Tavern, which for some reason unknown to me as a Chicago native I’d never been.

Ever hear of the “Curse of the Billy Goat,” also known as the Cubs Curse?

Do you recall the Saturday Night Live sketch in which a short order cook would yell out to incoming patrons:

“Cheezborger! Cheezborger!
No fries, cheeps! No Pepsi, Coke!”?

All of the above have one thing in common: the World Famous Billy Goat Tavern, a Chicago legend since 1934.

Cash only (I’d assume to not leave a paper trail) and the “Billy Goat” beer on tap tasted strikingly similar to Budweiser (as pointed out by my friend). After a “Cheezborger” we cabbed up to the Shedd Aquarium for free public access day. I’ve been to the Shedd about 50 times but I’ll be honest with you I freakin’ love it. I love marine/cultural shit. Every time I find something new to marvel at. Like this:

Turtle Cuddle Puddle!

And for my big Chicago finale… and subsequently my new favorite obsession… The Paramount Lounge.

Deceptively good menu and beers on tap, small bar, speakeasy underground area, bartender named Rachel (I mean, come on). $5 beer and a shot - PBR and tequila, natch - and oysters. The Ellen Show on the TV screen. 3 other total patrons in the bar. Not to mention one of them was extremely intelligent and we were able to sustain a drunken Chicago political argument. Things like this make me miss Chicago the most.

Like I mentioned way earlier, I fell in love again. Chicago continues to surprise me every time I return. Culture, various points of view, art, music, theater, BOYSTOWN, shopping… I could go on and on. I’ll just leave it at that for now seeing as this post is 500 pages long and I’ve left a lot out as well. Keep in touch, Chicago. I’ll be back soon enough.