My Kind of Town

Back in Indy after a week away and trying to catch up on my blogging. Let’s backtrack and learn about my trip to Chicago!

Last weekend, I got to spend a few days with two of my childhood friends, Beth and Tara. I drove to Chicago Friday morning, and luckily arrived in the city before afternoon rush-hour traffic. Tara arrived at Beth’s house shortly after, and we took advantage of the sunshine and headed out for a walk. Down Michigan Avenue we went, headed to Millennium Park. We viewed our reflection in the big silver bean, and took off our shoes to splash in the big fountain, running for cover as the fountain spit water at us. We stopped at the Grand Lux Café for a beer and a snack, officially beginning my Weekend of Pigging Out, Mostly on Black Beans. We munched on a delicious chicken quesadilla and some spinach dip, and then headed back to Beth’s place for a glass of wine on her rooftop. That evening Beth, Tara and I headed out to Café Iberico, a Spanish restaurant, for some tapas. We shared some sangria (wine + fruit = YUMMY) and six different tapas (spiced potatoes + goat cheese + ham-and-chicken puffs + beef tenderloin + stewed eggplant and zucchini + shrimp = YUMMY). Coming home we treated ourselves to some Ghirardelli sundaes for dessert (ice cream + Ghirardelli chocolate + peanut butter = YUMMY) and ate them while looking at old photos (prom dresses + 1980s = FUNNY).

I had planned on making a side trip to Ikea on my way home, but we thought it would be fun to all go, so Saturday morning the three of us piled into Beth’s SUV and headed for the suburbs. We had never been to Ikea, and wow, that store can be overwhelming. I quickly fell under its “You need this! It’s so cheap!” spell. I went to buy a dresser for Henry and Eleanor, and left with a dresser, drawer organizers, kid-sized table and chairs, tupperware containers, bath towels, six-pack of glasses, kid-sized stepping stools, and a stuffed soccer ball. We popped in to California Pizza Kitchen for some lunch, where I watched the Illini football team lose their Homecoming game while I enjoyed some black bean pizza. After a stop at a produce store and Land of Nod, we headed back to Beth’s for a nap and to hang out with her sweetie pie daughter, Morgan.

On Saturday evening Beth, Tara and I ate supper at a new restaurant, Hub 51. We had homemade hummus and delicious spiced almond dip that tasted like Indian granola, if such a thing existed. (And it should! Are you listening, Quaker Oats?) To see what Andy’s always carrying on about, I ordered some fish-less sushi for supper and had a side of rice and black beans. Fully stuffed, we hopped in a cab and went to see the Hubbard Street Dance Chicago dance troupe perform. It was modern dance, which I admit I don’t “get.” But even though the symbolism zoomed right over my head, it was wonderful to see the interesting choreography and marvel at the athleticism of the dancers. Beth was even one of the audience members pulled onstage for the last number! I haven’t been able to see many theatre-type performances since the babies were born, so this was a treat. We went home and Tara and I entertained ourselves by spying on Beth’s neighbors. You can tell we don’t get to the big city much. We felt like we were in Rear Window and had fun making up names for the people we saw. (If you’re reading this, hi, Gladys!)

On Sunday I got up, looked out Beth’s window to see the Chicago marathon start, and promptly went back to bed to try to sleep away the cold that Henry and Eleanor sent with me to Chicago. Finally, I packed up, Beth’s husband Dan (who deserves a medal for putting up with a houseful of women) loaded all my heavy Ikea purchases into my car, and I headed back down I-65 for home.

Enough words! Let’s look at some pictures!


Millennium Park's silver bean--can you see the three of us? There, in the middle?


Sweet Miss Morgan. Our class voted Beth Most Likely to Succeed, and she did, especially when it comes to reproducing.


a sampling of my Ikea booty


Beth's lakeside view. Jealous, aren't you? At my house, when you look out the window, you just see old people.