PrideFest 2009

Because I love the gay bars in Boystown so much, I decided to celebrate gay culture and pride Sunday at Pride Parade! (Actually, I had to walk in the parade for work…but still).

Anyways, the parade was one of the coolest and most fun events I have ever been to. As I fought my way to the WGN-TV float, it looked like a massive rainbow had settled onto Lakeview. I looked like a square in my khaki shorts compared to the elaborate costumes, sparkles and stage makeup that every one else seemed to be sporting.

The parade weaved through Boystown and ended at the Lincoln Park Zoo…quite a long ways, but the weather could not have been better, and honestly, neither could the company

Not only is WGN a Chicago institution, its anchors are truly celebrities. I doubt any float got the reception that ours did as we blasted the Ting Tings, Michael Jackson and Beyonce…all while the news crew waved, wiggled and danced on the back of the float.

Parade-goers crowded the route and leaned over fences, tossing beads, offering high fives and lifting beers and Mikes Hard Lemonades in a toast as we cruised on by.

As I took photos for WGN, I was able to interact with the crowd and see aspects of its components that other people might not have. For instance, some of the costumes, people perched in third-floor windows, lots of nudity, and a more serious side of why all these people were gathered.

While there was only one small group of protestors, many supporters or gay rights held up signs or wore shirts with political and social messages scrawled across them. Gay marriage was an obvious one (Heteros get 3 to 4 weddings. Gays don’t even get 1). Another gay couple walked hand in hand through the parade route holding signs reading “Just Married.” They were greeted with cheers and congratulations the entire walk. Abolishing don’t ask don’t tell (Obama, let gays serve openly) was third hot-button issue addressed by more somber members of the gay community.

For the most part, though, Pride Parade was not an event pushing a social or political agenda, rather it was a celebration of a culture often misunderstood and ostracized by the mainstream.

If you ever get the opportunity to attend the PrideFest Parade…take it! Be ready for thousands upon thousands of eccentric, excited and colorful people—but more than that, be ready for a great time!

Boystown.

Top Five Reasons for a Lady to Hang Out in Gay Bars:

1. Air conditioning. I've found that thermostats in gay bars are set really low...meaning, no sweating and no hair frizz.

2. The guys are gorgeous. It's a little sad knowing that none of them want you, but that's kind of okay. Why? Read point #3.

3. No bad decisions. No matter how great looking the men at a gay bar are, you're not going home with any of them...well, except to maybe party more, but the fun ends there.

4. Great music. You can go to any gay bar in Boystown an dance. Loves it!

5. Gay men love to talk about how pretty women are. I've gotten more compliments in my last two nights out at the bar than in my entire life!

Basically, Boystown is a great time!

Palm trees in Illinois?!

FINALLY! I made it to the beach!

Kait and I took a quick trip to the Rogers Park beach on Saturday, and the highlight was the painted wall separating the beach from a grassy park. But like I said, the trip was short, and I didn’t really get to experience the west side of Lake Michigan.

But today, I got a little surprise from work—I didn’t have to go in! So I threw on my swimsuit, packed my purple blanket, and headed to the beach.

I should have taken the L and headed north, back to Rogers Park, but once I got on the bus toward Addison, there were a few other beach-goers, so I decided to just follow them…and south we went.

I ended up on a beach surrounded by the Chicago skyline, with the Sears Tower spires reaching high above my head. Even stranger than sunbathing on a city beach, though, were the palm trees planted along the shoreline. On Lake Michigan! It was a little weird, mostly because I have a hard time pretending I’m somewhere like the Caribbean when cars and trains scream just a few hundred feet from me.

Still, the beach was nice. Busy, but that's not a surprise, and it was really clean. The water was warmer than it is on my state’s shores, but still just as blue. One thing we don't have in Michigan, though (well, if we do, I've never seen them) are some hot male lifeguards in short shorts doing pushups while they wait for someone to drown. Trust me, reason enough to go back to that beach.

After getting some of my Florida tan back, I packed up my bag and walked north on the trail bordering the lake. Chicago’s beaches have it all. And I’m not referring to the palm trees.

I found a place on a cement structure next to a beautiful pavilion to make a stop. A dozen chess games were going on under the pavilion, overlooking a bay, sailboats and passersby sauntering under the sky, which was so blue, it drifted right into the lake at the horizon line.

Walking a little further led me past volleyball tournaments, fresh-squeezed juice stands, families playing hooky from responsibilities, and more incredible vistas from the other side of Michigan’s greatest lake.

I would have liked to spend a little more time wandering today, but it’s back to reality for me. By reality, I mean a work softball game…don’t laugh! But I’m hoping this week will take me back to the shore, in particular, to take a better look at the painted wall on Rogers Park beach. I’ll keep you posted.

The Crosstown Classic.

I spent today at Wrigley Field, trying to find 1,000 of Chicago’s hottest baseball fans. For my friends who are not familiar with interleague play here in the Windy City, I’ll elaborate. The Crosstown Classic is an annual event that pits the Cubs and the Sox against each other for 6 games. Three are played at Wrigley, while the other three are hosted at U.S. Cellular Field.

Since WGN broadcasts both Chicago teams’ games, it has been dubbed the Official Summer Baseball Station. Of course, this opened up opportunities to tailor some really cool promotions tied in with the Crosstown Classic.

Thus…the Northside/Southside Hottest Fan contest was born.

This afternoon, a few of my colleagues and I set out on a mission: Find the 500 hottest Cubs fans and the 500 hottest Sox fans. Get them to pose for a picture. Get the public to head to www.wgntv.com/contests (shameless plug) and vote for their favorites. The winners? One guy and one girl from each side will get to be in a promo for an upcoming game.

I won’t give you the play-by-play of the day…it wasn’t too interesting. Well, with the exception of a fight in front of the field and a homeless man holding up a sign reading: “Why lie? I need a beer.” Hey, I like his honesty.

What I did like, though, was being at Wrigley Field for a game. Sure, I spent last weekend in the area at bars with post-game fans. But today was different. Before the game, literally thousands of people descend on Wrigleyville, pouring out of the L stations and falling out of busses like clowns out of their cars. It’s not hard to identify team affiliations, since pride is black and white…or red and blue.

It felt like a homecoming football game. Everyone gathered for one reason, well, I guess a few. To watch a good game, hang out with good friends and have a good drink…or twelve. The booming bass from frat-flagged trucks is replaced with the hollow sound of plastic 10-gallon buckets. The beats resonate through the streets, bouncing between the stadium, the L and shops on the south side of Addison. Perhaps the most popular musician of the day was the 4-year-old boy who wasn’t much taller than the bucket he drummed on.

The pounding is accompanied by a chorus of hawkers, trying to pawn tickets and bags of peanuts or pistachios to the already buzzed up crowd.

I enjoy doing promotions, in particular ones that allow me to spend my day chatting and flirting with good-looking guys. But I think what made today such a great day, was really taking in the atmosphere of Chicago. North, South…whatever. This is a great city.

Time traveling.

Yesterday was my first day babysitting here in the city. The job went better than I had expected, which was a pleasant surprise. Better than that, though, was being introduced to the Lincoln Park Zoo.

The girls and I only took a quick trip, since they were really hoping for a carousel ride before lunchtime. The ride is set toward the back of the park, which took my little charges and I past pseudo-safaris, kangaroos, swinging monkeys and giant gorillas. But once we were there, it felt like the carousel was entirely separate from the zoo, the city and even our time.

I’m not sure how I feel about zoos, keeping animals contained in foreign environments kind of freaks me out, but I cannot wait to take another trip to the one in Lincoln Park. It was so picturesque. A man with a banjo and another with a guitar strummed blues and kids tunes, while workers sold refreshments and cotton candy from old-timey red and yellow caboose-like stands.

Like I said, it was a short trip. However, I’m going to head back there as soon as I get a chance. I may be in the Big Kid World, now, but there’s no reason I can’t slip back in time every once in a while, right?

The weekend I tested every bar in Central/Northern Chicago...

This weekend was one of the best I’ve had in a while. I felt like I was all over Chicago, meeting and hanging out with some really great people. So let me grab my bar receipts to make sure I don’t leave anything out or forget to give credit where credit is due.

I started by grabbing a late dinner and watching the conclusion of a disappointing Stanley Cup game at PJ Clarke’s on State St. in the Gold Coast. While the game was a bummer, the mini-cheeseburgers I had were great. Even more important, though, was the killer vodka martini…double olive, of course.

After dinner, Kait, Becky and I met up with Erin, Alan, Kyle and Rado at Bootleggers, just around the corner from the restaurant. The bar was crowded, but it was a pretty good group to get the night off to a good start.

After leaving Bootleggers, we made a quick trip to the Reagle Beagle to meet up with the rest of our crew (Elias, Mikey, Dana and Skillman). With a name like that, you can’t really be sure what you’re going to get. The bar was slow, which meant we got a good table, but it didn’t do much for me…or anyone else for that matter. The highlight of the night was getting a shot of terrible tequila from a stout Mexican man…who really should have known better when it came to picking a bottle.

It had started to drizzle by the time we left Beagle, making the walk to Social 25 a rough one. Luckily for me, I had Mama Kaitlyn pack me some flip flops in her purse, so my trek was easier then Elias,’ (are you out of practice walking in those pointers?!)

Social 25 was packed. It’s a huge bar that feels pretty trendy, but the music was good and the crowd was pretty friendly. The bartenders, though…not so much. I couldn’t get a drink for about ten minutes, which for anyone who has gone to the bar with me knows I don’t take well to. I moved down the bar to a different bartender and immediately got my drink and a round of shots for Bex, Kait and I. That bartender got a $10 tip. (Okay, a little excessive, but I really wanted to prove a point to the jerk who didn’t pay attention to me.)

The girls and I took over a little corner of the bar where I was able to flirt with a handsome (we think) guy in blue, while everyone else danced and apparently had a photo shoot of me macking on that guy…or rather, him macking on me. Either way, the pictures are funny, and I got his number. J

Saturday morning was a little rough, in particular because I crashed at Kaitlyn’s, meaning I had to wear my scandalous bar dress on the train into Wrigleyville. Did I mention the Cubs had an afternoon game? Poor Bex had to walk with me, in what looked like a terrible walk-o-shame. However, it was nothing a good bloody mary at Salt & Pepper Diner couldn’t fix! The service was terrible, but from what I could tell, it was just our waitress doing a poor job. I’ll definitely head there again, in particular because their banana nut pancakes are amazing.

Becky and I made plans to meet up with Kyle and Alan after their trip to the game, which meant an afternoon in post-game Wrigleyville. It was a new experience, and definitely the best part of the weekend. We donned our new Cubs gear (gotta look legit!) and headed to John Barleycorn. I’ve heard mixed reviews about this bar, but I had a great time there. Becky and I wanted to make 500 new friends, and we just about accomplished it at that bar alone. The people were great, the service was quick and the whole front of the bar opened up, letting a nice breeze in for the whole time we were there. Becky and befriended Burt the bouncer, as well as a couple of Chicago’s finest, and that was quite possibly the high point of our day.

We didn’t have any food at Barleycorn, mostly because Pauly’s Pizza across the street claimed to have famous thin-crust pizza. It was recommended by Burt, and we made two pit stops there during our 6-hour stint at that first bar.

We left John Barleycorn at close to 10 o’clock and headed to Rebel. How did we get there, you may ask? A rickshaw. That’s right. A rickshaw. Alan’s friend Mike owns his own cart, which he attaches to his bike and uses to cart bar go-ers all over the city. Luckily for us, he was willing to give us a lift, which was not only fast and convenient…but something I’ve wanted to do since I got here.

Rebel was alright. The crowd was so-so, so we didn’t stay there for too long. I’m not sure…but my desire to hit up a karaoke bar also may have had something to do with the move.

I never go to sing karaoke, which was a bummer, but the place was packed and a menopausal woman has taken over the stage, leaving no time for me to serenade the crowd. In reality, it was probably in the best interest of everyone involved that I avoid the stage anyway.

A nice waiter bought me a couple of drinks, but then Bex and I decided to call it quits. We hit the 12-hour partying mark at 2 a.m., which seemed like the perfect time to end the evening. Mike the nice rickshaw driver took us back to my place, narrowly avoiding 3 traffic accidents and doing minor damage to only one car in the process. Nice work, Mike!

All in all, I couldn’t have asked for a better weekend. Not only did I get to experience some parts of Chicago that I had not seen yet, I was able to see some good friends and relive some of our crazy CMU days for a weekend.

It really doesn’t get much better than that.

LitFest...Who needs Kindle?

My roommate, Rebecca, told me about all the great summer festivals that take place in Chicago.  Today, I had my first experience at a downtown event, and I have to say, it was better than I’d expected.

LitFest is a tradition for the first week of June here.  A few city blocks are barricaded off, leaving plenty of room for major bookstores, presses and independent sellers to peddle pages and pages of classic and obscure titles.  While people may say the written word is dead, the few thousand people who turned out today would disagree. 

I was there for work, which gave me the opportunity to talk with a ton of people.  One couple I met had road tripped it from Iowa with family.  This was an annual tradition for them, not unlike the couple that exchanged vows at the festival today, commemorating the place and weekend they met a few years ago. 

Each booth offered a different selection of work, from comics and Shakespeare, to literary classics and Sex & the City.  I spent some time at the booth dedicated entirely to books about Ireland, and while there were some great options, it was not nearly as cool as the booth of old TIME magazines and postcards.  Yup, postcards.  There were thousands, even an entire section boasting pictures of insane asylums.  The man running the booth said his father had spent years collecting them, pair that collection with others bought from estate sales and random shops…and you, too, could have a postcard booth at LitFest. 

Far from a typical library, LitFest offered food booths, wine tasting, beer, music and poetry readings.  The festival continues tomorrow, so I encourage you to head down to Dearborn Street to check it out!

Cheers!

Taking a 'bite' out of Chicago

Today was the first day I got off the bus without a hitch!  It’s my fourth day of being a bus rider, and I think I have the hang of it.  Erin was right when she told me riding the bus would make my life incredibly easy. 

Aside from experiencing public transportation from the inside, I’ve tried a couple good food places that should get some credit. 

If there’s one thing I’ve learned (well, besides how to ride the bus), it’s that no matter where you go in Chicago, there is good food to be had.  A couple of days ago I was craving deep-dish pizza like it was no one’s business.  I decided to kill two birds with one stone and wander around the neighborhood while I looked for somewhere to grab a slice.  To my luck, I came across Chicago’s Pizza and Pasta (clever name, right?).  Anyways, I could have chosen either deep-dish or thin crust, but since we all know what I went for, I’ll let you guess what I ordered.  The crust as at least an inch thick, filled up with cheese, pepperoni and sweet tomato sauce.  Top it off with an icy Diet Coke and a floor to ceiling view of Lincoln Avenue…definitely worth the $4 and 20-minute walk. 

Last night may have been a disappointment for Wings fans, well, unless you were with me at The Birds Nest.  The score was secondary to their combination of strong cocktails and really tasty wings (I highly recommend the hot or hot BBQ).  Not to mention, it was 35-cent wing night.  The atmosphere was comfortable, too.  A good mix of people and a pretty cool wait staff. 

Every morning on my way to work, I check out the streets my bus takes.  I’m still getting used to the city, and keep a little file in my head of places I want to try.  The Famous Taco Burrito has been on that list from day one.  Most people know I’m into Mexican food…especially the deliciously bad kind.  I read some mixed reviews about Taco Burrito online, and even though one compared it to a bad sexual experience (big, greasy, quick and sometimes a little smelly) the name alone made it worth ordering from.  To be honest, the bad sex review was a little harsh.  The burrito was HUGE, and I ordered a small one. The guacamole and green sauce slathered on my burrito made the meal, and the tortilla was perfectly browned.  For the price (CHEAP) is was a decent lunch.  I also ordered some of their tortilla chips, which were some of the best I’ve had, but I could do without their salsa. 

Basically, I’ve spent the past few days working and interviewing for part-time jobs, meaning my exploring is limited to places in between my house and the T.V station.  But it’s still been a pretty great week, and I really feel like I’m getting comfortable finding my way around and making my own little niche here in the city.  Not to mention, I’ve found some pretty great food along the way.  It feels good knowing that when I get visitors (hint, hint, friends!), I’ll have recommendations like a real local! 

As always, thanks for reading…cheers!