Carrboro, I love you, but you bore the hell out of me. I can only appreciate beauty for so long before I need to bask in the gritty 24-hour gleam of the city. I'm counting down the hours until I can count down the days until I'm back in Chicago. All my memories seem more intimate when I experience them as just another anonymous, coffee-swilling speedwalker, gripping my cell phone and handing out fruit to homeless women (I like to hand out oranges... they need the vitamin C). Right now, I really miss the Lake, which looks like a sleek science fiction ocean in the middle of the jagged urban badlands. My boyfriend kissed me for the first time while we were watching the sailboats come in one night, and people walking by stopped and watched because we were so fricken adorable. True story, it was cute squared.
Tell me your favorite tourist spot in Chicago, and I'll ruin it for you by telling you that I made out there. Navy Pier? CHECK. Millennium Park? CHECK. The Point? CHECK (aaaaand regret). Revolving doors anywhere in the city? CHECK. Jaywalking across Michigan Avenue and almost getting hit by a bus? CHECK.
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Union Station? (it's the only spot i really know)
The Robie House? I've only ever made out in private houses in Chicago, though I did hold hands with a wonderful girl in front of Ida Noyes.
Chad: yes! and ogilvie.
Purslane: not the Robie House, they don't allow anything to happen there that isn't pure admiration of FLW (not that he doesn't deserve it).
did you hold hands with my mother in front of ida noyes? are you my real father??? IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW.
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