This past weekend was one of my best yet since I’ve moved to Chicago. First, the weather has finally turned warm. Secondly, I’ve been meeting a lot of great new people. One of these great new people, Marisa (I’ll leave it as an exercise for the reader to figure out which one she is in that photo), took me to see a show on Saturday night at the Vic Theater in Chicago. It was ridiculously cheesy. Here is a brief list to prove the point:

1. Travis was the headliner. Seriously cheesy British band.
2. Some weird dude in front of me was doing that weird thing where you sing along and then pantomime the words. You know, like where the lyrics say, “I saw you over there…” and the guy puts his hand above his eyes like he’s looking out over the room and then points “over there”.
3. Same weird dude accidentally head-butted me while performing some freaky, drunken, back-arching dance move.
4. Some uber dork convinced the band to let him propose to his girlfriend on stage. Like I appreciate some guy wasting Marisa’s hard earned money during the concert while he blathers on about how “you’ve meant so much and made my life so great…blah blah blah…”. Seriously, dude, get a life.

Yes, it was a night of cheeseballs but I have to say that I had an absolute blast! My thanks to Marisa for being awesome company!

Then Sunday morning I felt like an actual Chicago local when I walked into a breakfast place and all of a sudden I hear my name shouted out. I look up and there are Steve and Jeff, two guys I met on St. Patty’s Day, and my friend Kate. They’d been waiting for an hour to get a table. They asked the host if he could seat five people instead of three, they said yes, so we only had to wait about 2 minutes for a table. Ahhh…the advantages of being a local. (And by the way, the food at Big Jones was incredible - even if it was a little pricey.)

Then Sunday night, two more new friends came over, Jorge and Ceda, and made their famous Mole chicken for the Dresslers, Crash, and me. Not only was it an incredible meal, but they were kind enough to show me how to make it. I can’t wait to try it out. I’m sure I will slaughter it, but I always love a new cooking adventure.

So there you have it, my evolution as a Chicago resident is proceeding along nicely. Not quite as nicely as my stellar contribution to the evolution of the human species, but nicely none the less.

I have a friend named Sue (not a boy named Sue, a woman) that I’ve always suspected of being a pretty cool person. Well, last Saturday she removed all suspicions. It was all very mysterious, though. Sue missed my birthday night out on Tuesday for legitimate reasons and then called me up to say she had a birthday present for me. Only catch was I had to block off 11:00 - 3:30 on my Saturday. I’m always up for an adventure so no problem.

We met at 11:00 to grab a bite to eat and then at 1:00 we headed for the secret destination. Turns out, it was the United Center and we had Row 1 Seats to the Bulls game! Now, I realize that the Bulls suck and I’m not even a huge pro basketball fan, but I still have to say that it was incredibly cool to be sitting that close to the action. It was a fantastic birthday present! We then followed it up with some NCAA basketball watching and finished the night singing karaoke where I was insulted by the locals for my song selection and crappy voice…but that’s a different story.

You gotta love any city that takes an Irish drinking holiday like St. Patty’s Day so seriously that they are willing to risk environmental disaster by dying the river green. You will also find just about everyone dressed in green, waiters wearing green bagels around their necks, and lots of green beer being consumed.

My good friend Katie came down from Milwaukee, we met up with some other friends, and even managed to make a couple of new friends through the night. At one point, Katie and I decided to commemorate our trip 6 years ago to Ireland with a couple of Irish car bombs. One problem: The bartender said they were too busy to take the time to actually pour the shots. So here’s how the conversation went:

Me: Can I get two Irish Car Bombs.
Bartender: Sorry, we’re too busy to do that.
Me: Hmmm…can I order one Guinness, a shot of Jamison, a shot of Bailey’s, and get an extra glass?
Bartender: Yep. That I can do.

So then Katie and I mixed our own Irish Car Bombs. You can see what I think is a hilarious reenactment of this process here: mixing, mixed, drinking, done.

All-in-all, it was a very successful night out in Chicago. I highly recommend everyone makes the trip and gives it a try some time.

It’s been an eventful past week for me. I’m finally getting out and really exploring Chicago. I’ve been out with a number of people the past week to a few fine restaraunt establishments. Feel free to read some insightful and witty restaraunt reviews of some super cheap Chicago eateries on another blog of mine. Seriously, I’m hysterical…and these places are super cheap.

But this blog is about bowling on Friday night with the Dresslers, the Graff’s, some IIT fluid mechanics graduate students, and my friends Paula and Sue. We started at one bowling alley called Southport Lanes. Rumor has it this place is so old-school that they actually hire people to setup the pins after each turn. On top of that, rumor has it, that if you stick a dollar in your ball when you throw it down the lane, they guarantee you a strike. I say these are rumors because there was a private party there that night so we didn’t actually get to bowl. Instead we had a beer and then walked down to some other place (the name I can’t recall) where we had dinner. Then we all headed to Diversey Lanes for Rock ‘n’ Roll Bowl…

Yes, Rock ‘n’ Roll bowl came complete with black lights, big haired 80’s music, and lots of cocktails. I was on pretty good behavior because I was planning a trip to Milwaukee the next night with a bunch of old friends from Pedro’s Mexican Restaurant in Madison (”can I get you some Tortillas with that?”). But my friend Sue was in no such predicament. Let’s just say that 8-10 beers/cocktails leave a fit, 135 pound woman, well, not so fit anymore. I will hopefully have pictures to post soon. Of course, I’m not sure that anyone will want the incriminating evidence readily available for the rest of the world to see…

Speaking of incriminating photos, I went to Milwaukee the next night for a party my friends Bryn and Jessica were throwing. Needless to say, my political career may official be over before it has even begun. It involves a pair of biking shorts, a pair of white tights, a Hawaiian towel, and a can of Pam pan spray. There was also $18 spent on two beers at one point that I’m still a little bit miffed about. I hate to break this to you Milwaukee but you’re not cool enough to charge $18 for two crappy Pilsners. Despite the legalized robbery, it was still an extremely successful and fun evening. Everyone should go to Bryn’s angry BBQ party next year.

Bryn, if you’re reading this, please send me the angry BBQ picture so I can post it - that is an incredible photo and probably belongs in the Louvre. Everyone else that was there with a camera, please burn them all and I promise serious kickbacks when I’m elected a senator some day.

I have seen a lot of live music in my life and can safely say I’ve never seen anything like I saw on Fat Tuesday at the Cubby Bear in Chicago. With the giant, red, neon sign of Wriggley Field shining through the Cubby Bear front window, the band Steve Wick stepped on stage. The lead singer walked on carrying an upright bass, then there was a greasy looking guy in a baseball cap playing guitar, a drummer, and some dude in cut-up jeans holding a harmonica.

Other than the lead singer playing upright bass, nothing unusual about this. I’m from Wisconsin - I’ve seen lots of white trash, hillbilly bluegrass bands at seedy clubs. That perhaps was why I was not prepared for what happened next. With no warning these four musicians started a funky, reggaeish groove and then the lead singer, hammering away on his bass, started rapping. It was very bizzare and unbelievably entertaining.

The lead singer was definitely the main attraction. At one point he channeled Jimmy Hendricks by picking up his upright bass and playing it over his head. Rumor has it he has been known to actually balance himself on top of his bass while playing. However, this remains only a rumor as I did not see it happen that night.

In short, if you ever get a chance to see Steve Wick play, you need to get out and see them. Decent musicians, great energy, and unbelievable showmen.