You know that feeling you get when you visit a new state or city.  That, this is a great place to visit but I wouldn't want to live here feeling?  I fully expected to have these feelings for Chicago.  I fully expected to be ready to leave at the end of my three day stay.

I'm a California girl through and through.  Give me the ocean, give me the beach, give me the sun, give me the hippies.

I was completely shocked when I fell in love with Chicago.  I didn't really want to leave.  In fact, if I could, I would round up my family and move to the Windy City (winters be damned....I'd deal).

I think what I enjoy most about it is how homey it feels.  You're surrounded by brick buildings in an urban environment and yet, it feels like downtown Burlingame.

People are walking their dogs.  Family and friends are sitting outside on patios enjoying breakfast or a newspaper.  Everyone walks everywhere and if it's not walking distance, there's a train or bus that can take you to where you need to go.  And most important, people are friendly.

There were several times this past weekend that the girls and I were walking late at night (or super early in the morning, lol) and I never once felt threatened.  Never once felt like I had to look over my shoulder.  In fact, we once found ourselves in a precarious situation and a super nice guy said that we should think about heading home.

Obviously John and I have familial obligations in California so the likelihood that we'd leave is slim to none, but we can do the next best thing....visit as often as possible.

My trip to Chicago didn't really get off to a great start.  My flight was scheduled to leave at 5 p.m. on Wednesday April 3rd.

I was to leave at 2:30 p.m., pick up John from work, then go and pick up my friend, Kinsie, at her house by 3:00 p.m. so that we could be at the airport by 4:00 p.m.  Had everything gone the way it was suppose to go everything would have been simple and calm.

Unfortunately the universe had other plans.

On the way to Oakland my tire blew out.  It took an hour from the moment it blew to the time John was able to reach me and change the tire (yes, I know the basics on how to change a tire, but I can never get the damn bolts unscrewed).  Long story short....we missed our flight.  We were able to schedule another flight out of SFO at 7 a.m. the following morning (thank you to our dear friend Jen for letting us crash on her couch so we didn't have to drive back home!).

As soon as we got into Chicago we went to Wrigleyville for Opening Day.  It was unlike anything I had ever seen.  Of course, I've never been to an SF Giants home opener so I have nothing to compare it to, but based on the layout of Wrigleyville I'm going to assume that opening day in Chicago is nothing like opening day in San Francisco.

Wrigleyville is comprised of Wrigley Field and a crap ton of bars...that's it.  Yes there was a restaurant thrown in here or there, but those restaurants usually had bars of their own and the bars also served food.  It was like one big party.  I wonder how anything got done in Chicago that day because it looked like most of Chi-town's population was crammed into the couple of blocks that comprised Wrigleyville.

The rest of night included drinks, food, more drinks, a taxi ride or two, some karaoke and more drinks.

One thing I didn't know about Chicago is that a large portion of their restaurants are BYOB.  Apparently liquor licenses are fairly expensive so the restaurants allow patrons to bring their own liquor.  They'll supply the cups and ice, you supply the booze.  It's insane how much cheaper it was on our end as well.  I seriously wish California would consider doing something similar.

The next day's activities included going into downtown and marveling over the architecture of the city, eating some popcorn, visiting the Bean, having some true Chicago deep dish, taking a ton of photos, going to dinner at Publican, enjoying some fabulous food, and dancing until 4 in the morning (didn't actually get to bed until 6).

It was fabulous.

One thing I must mention before closing this entry is the "gangstah" we met on our way back to Missy's neighborhood from downtown Chicago.  First, I must say that I love public transportation.  It's a great place to people watch.  So many different people and personalities, from so many different backgrounds shoved into one place.  I love the diversity.  Every now and then, while riding public transportation, you witness something so off the wall crazy that it will stay with you forever.....this was one of those moments.

Around 5 p.m. on Friday afternoon we decided to call it quits in downtown.  We had a long night ahead of us and wanted a little time to decompress before getting ready.  Instead of taking the train back (which is how we entered the city) we decided to hop on the city bus.  As soon as we got onto the bus I noticed the guy on the right taking up the seats.  Other then the tattoos on his neck and knuckles he looked totally "normal".  I could tell he was agitated the moment we got onto the bus, but everyone has bad days...no harm, no foul.

The girls and I took the seats directly opposite him.  We were chatting about our day when all of a sudden the dude across from us punches the window with his fist.



All talking on the bus ceases.  We're all looking at eachother with the same looks of "what the hell?" and "did that really just happen?" on our faces.  It takes a moment for the awkwardness to pass, but eventually conversations pick up again.

Suddenly out of nowhere, the guy starts talking to Kinsie.  I don't remember how exactly the conversation started or exactly what was said, but I do remember him saying the following things (in no particular order):

-- "If I punched out this window, it wouldn't do anything, right?"
-- "I shouldn't even be taking the bus.  It's my day off, I should be in the streets gang bangin."
-- "......I'm going to punch my brother in the face four times."
-- "I don't normally talk to females."
-- "I'm a straight killah."

He also said something about it being Good Friday.  I dunno....your guess is as good as mine.  I should mention that this "killah" was wearing gold mardi gras beads.  He's obviously a baller on a budget.

The entire time this scene is unfolding, two things are happening:  1)  Kinsie is playing the role of the concerned citizen perfectly.  She fills the awkward silences with, "I'm sorry that happened", and "that sucks".  After the guy says he's going to punch his brother in the face four times she says that she hopes his day gets better.

and 2) I am literally shoving my scarf in my mouth so that I don't laugh out loud.


It is the most ridiculous situation I've been in in a long time, but I know this guy is high on something and getting shot or shivved is low on my list of priorities.  I'm also trying to avoid looking at Camille because I know she's having the same problem as I am.  Luckily the guy gets off the bus a couple of stops later, and we all explode with the laughter that we had been holding.

So long Chicago.  It only took me three days to fall in love with you.  I'll be visiting soon.

Patiently waiting for my next Chicago vacation