I am pretty sure that is is 2008, but I'm wondering how that could be since I am composing this post ON PAPER, using an actual PEN. How the hell did writers function before the laptop was invented? I seriously don't know what day it is and I haven't all week because the EVIL IT people have taken my beloved laptop. I got a call from them today and they told me that it isn't doing well and that they were about to administer last rights. Please, say a prayer for me. A rosary or two would be nice. You could throw in a few stations of the cross for good measure. You would if you really loved me.
You know how you hear stories of people losing limbs and they say that they can still feel the limb even though it is long gone? I totally know how they feel, in a less dire way. I believe there is a clinical name for my syndrome and it is called Phantom Laptop Syndrome, or PLS for short. All of the diseases worth getting have an abbreviation. I learned that in College.
Anywho, I have been wanting to post about my Girls Gone Wild weekend in Chicago but haven't because writing on paper first sucks a dong, like no dong you've ever sucked before. Trust me on this.
So here is a quick recap.
**First, the weekend deserves a new moniker. So instead of GGW, I am going to go with Big Momma is a total loser. Not as sexy I suppose, but more accurate. I admit, as I have many times before that I am a total fargin loser. I probably should have reminded T this before my visit. A nice note, on custom stationary would have been appropriate. If I had written this note, it probably would have gone like this:
I can't wait to see you next weekend. I'm sure we will have a great time, as long as you can keep me up past 8 o'clock. Let me know if there is anything I should bring, but rest easy knowing that I will bring the good contraband: a healthy supply of Vicks Vapo Rub and prunes. Just make sure you replenish your stock of Werther's Originals. I'll be there with bells on, or Depends Undergarments, depending on what I have for lunch that day.
See you soon BFF.
***T mentioned that there was a good band playing on Friday at 10 and I was like "am or pm?" I love a good band as much as the next gal, but find that band venues a. are loud, b. are crowded, c. have bathrooms that generally do not have TP and d. exist at night when the scary people come out. Because of these known observations, I rarely go see live music anymore. So instead of seeing the band, we went back to T's pad and played Scrabble like the respectable 85 year old woman that were are. And when I say we, I really mean me.
***The Museum of Contemporary Art is a great place to visit, especially if you like to see art in the form of cock and balls. You think I am kidding, but I assure you dear readers, that I do not joke about art or cock and balls. Jeff Koonz was the main exhibitor and it was fabulous. I saw things that I had never seen before. And yes, there was more than just cock and balls.
The CAB (as a former Catholic, I can only say cock and balls so many times.) art was sectioned off from the rest of his exhibit. I'm told there was a WARNING sign, but I did not see it. So you can imagine my shock when I walked in. I am not a prude, but seriously, CAB and the MCA? How scandalous. I so do not belong in the big city.
***One of the many reasons I love Chicago is because of the diversity it offers. The Food. The People. It is a city that truly has something to offer everyone. T mentioned that we would be going to a festival on Saturday night. And let me tell you, this wasn't just your average festival. This festival served their elephant ears with a side of gay. Yes, T and I went to the largest gay festival this side of the Mississippi. And let me tell you, it was FAAAB-U-LOS! I realized, very quickly that people probably thought that I was her bitch. But I didn't care, I was in gay heaven. Gay men are so much better than straight men because they work out obsessively so that they can walk around without their shirts one. And that they did.
***I love that Chicago has such great public transportation. This is something that we here in Cbus will probably never experience. I love The COTA and all, but I have to admit that it is a bit scary. And limiting. I parked my car when I got to Chicago and didn't get back into in until I left. However, I am thankful l that my purse sized bottle of hand sanitizer lasted me the entire weekend. Another think I should have warned T about.
***T totally cock (there I go again) blocked me from our bus driver. The one bus we rode was so crowded that the only place for me to stand was directly next to the driver. Like I was the co-pilot. I loved it because I had a wonderful view of the road ahead. T told me that I looked like a dog staring out of the front door, wagging my tail with glee at the people going past. For some reason I have always been fascinated with bus drivers. Another one of my weirdo things that makes me the nut that I am. T eventually pulled me back to the middle of the bus because she was fearful that I would strike up a convo with the driver. Good thing she did because I was just about to let my questions fly. I would so like to get into the mind of a bus driver. I keep a mental list of questions I would ask. Honestly, my list is organized in an Excel Spreadsheet. Seriously. Here is the short list:
1. Why do you wear gloves?
2. Do they help you drive better?
3. Do you have to buy them or does the CTA provide them, along with your uniform?
1. Do you make a lot of friends while driving? I assume that you have a ton of regulars that you 'ride' every day.
2. Have you ever secured a date from one of your passengers? I think bus driving is probably a great way to pick up chicks.
3. Have you ever caught someone having sex on the bus late at night?
4. Are you drunk?
And finally, the mother of all questions: What do you do when you have to go to the bathroom?
Don't worry, I am getting the professional help that I need. It is just taking time to stick.
***Sadly, we did not see Barack, Oprah (thankfully because I probably would have been arrested for kicking her teeth in) or John Cusak. T's friend L had seen John in Chi town a few weeks ago and our collective nipples got hard at the mere thought of seeing him live and in the flesh.
I am thinking that there is probably a 15% chance that T will invite me back. If she does, I am so there. Thanks for the memories.
The Chicago Formula:
Barack Plus Friendship
Times Ru Paul
Minus Oprah to the Oprah power
Equals a weekend that I won't forget!