Blue Man Group

We made plans to run down to Chicago right away after work on Friday to see the Blue Man Group with our friends Chris and Angel. The day was nuts and I stupidly put every pair of pants I own into the washing machine at the last minute in a bit of a state of frenzy. So, it should have been no surprise when they weren't done and we had to leave or we wouldn't make the show in time. I ended up throwing on a skirt, a slightly dirty old sweater and scarf and we hit the road.

I felt incredibly nauseous, stressed and overwhelmed on the ride down to Waukegan. Work has been taking its toll on me this week with several fifteen hour days in the mix. I finally calmed down by the time we got to their house and hoped in their car for the rest of the ride into the city. I continued to feel sick all the way through the stop-and-go expressway traffic into the city. Chris had to crack the driver's side window to make sure I didn't puke. We made it to the Briar Street Theatre an hour late, but still caught the second half of the show.

Wow. Blue Man Group, what a strange performance art experience. Strobe lights, florescent paint, a homemade mallet pipe organ, throbing rock rifts, the entire first section of the audience wearing raincoats, and rolls and rolls of toilet paper. Bizarre, but enjoyable. I think the best part for me was the nine year old boy sitting in front of us who was freaking out, totally into the show. He was jumping up and down, punching his fists in the air and cheering. I could definitely see the appeal for a pre-adolescent boy. It was fun just watching him.

After the show we looked around the Lincoln Park neighborhood for some place to eat dinner, but didn't want to stray too far since we'd found a killer parking spot and traffic was pretty heavy. We ended up at Cesar's Killer Margaritas where we waited about 45 minutes just to get a table. There were several flavors and sizes of margaritas availble for the tasting. Ryan convinced Angel and I that the "Mega" margarita seemed like an awesome deal, as it was only $2 more than the small. All three of us ordered tamarind Mega margaritas. When they arrived they were the size of mini fish bowls on stems and somewhat unwieldy to hold without a table to set them down on occasionally.

After a while we got a table and were pleasantly surprised by the quality of the food. I enjoyed carne asada while Ryan muched on a very authentic mole poblano. We learned that $2 more does not always mean a deal. By the time dinner came to a close, Angel was in a a pretty happy and candid place; I fell asleep instantly on the car ride home; and everybody's stomaches were a little queasy from all of the sugar, not to mention other stuff, in those margaritas. Chris kept teasing us all "only $2 more"!

Ryan and I bedded down in their very comfortable basement guest room. It's a much darker and quieter space than our own bedroom, so we were at peace. We unwittingly slept until 9:30am, very late for us and certainly late for their family with two young kids. When we finally got up to field a call from our realtor, we heard their son, Elliott, yell to his parents upstairs, "they're awake!". When I got up to go to the bathroom Elliott was sitting at the top of the basement stairs with the dog, Bella, staring at our door. We enjoyed Chris' homemade waffles together with the whole family and discussed their impending trip back into the City so their daughter, Gracie, could buy an American Girl doll with allowance money she's been saving up.

We packed our overnight bag, signed their guest book (an awesomely sweet idea) and made our way back to Milwaukee.