books are better than boys

Last night I had a home-cooked dinner with some friends, a few of which I rarely get to see on the same side of a bar (owning two awesome bars will do that to you). And although they have an extensive liquor ‘cabinet’ (above), we stuck to half pint cans of Budweiser and Bud Light while playing some intense games of Catch Phrase!. (Tip for any future teammates - I will not get any clues that have to do with Lord of the Rings or how cars work.) We finished the night off with some champagne and high-fives. So much love. 

Hanging with the handsome fellows of South Philly.

This afternoon I was invited to two parties. A gnocchi party and a bacon party. Finger crossed that the invite for another whiskey party lands in my email tomorrow (Austin, I’m looking at you). Maybe we should also plan a workout party or a run a 5k party so that we don’t all gain 20 pounds this winter.

My friends are kind of the best. Just sayin’. 

(Photo from the whiskey party Austin threw two years ago).

I like to play this game in which I compare all of my relationships to ones from Friends¹. It’s fun, I swear. And tonight when I was brushing my teeth I started making a list. I’m sure it would have been a bit longer had I kept brushing the recommended time (slacker). (Italicized name is who I thought² I was in the relationship.) 

• Rachel and Tag
• Rachel and Joey
• Monica and Fun Bobby
• Chandler and Janice (we all have one of these, right?)
• Ross and Elizabeth
• Ross and Rachel
• Ross and Rachel
• (and this one time I almost thought I had a) Phoebe and Mike

^{——————————————————————-
1I love Friends. Unabashedly. Granted I didn’t really watch the last season because - kind of awful - but I guarantee you that I laughed at every single episode that I saw, every time I saw it (just like with AFV, a terribly under-appreciated program, but not really a fan of Tom Bergeron) and that’s not nothing.}

²I wonder if the fellows would agree. It probably wouldn’t matter if I asked, none of them really cared for Friends, no matter how many times I tried to make them watch with me. If I ever meet a man who loves that show I may have to marry him immediately.

I’m back in Chicago. I’m tired and happy and sad and I feel like I haven’t stopped laughing for the past week. 

When I first moved to Chicago I hated it. Hated!¹ It. My best friend had lived here² and was moving back to Philadelphia. This just happened to coincide with the city of brotherly love and I experiencing the seven-year itch. So with just a few weeks notice my friend Clint and I drove³ my stuff out to Chicago in a red rental minivan.

For the first few (or nine) months I was pretty miserable. I arrived in what was an exceptionally rainy fall, which quickly led into the longest, coldest, snowiest winter I had ever experienced. I can’t blame my attitude completely on the weather, but it sure was a good excuse to mope around.

Now, five years later I’m kind of (surprisingly) enjoying living in Chicago. It’s not home. I won’t be here forever. But with a few good friends it ain’t half bad.

true friendship (by sister reba)
The two fellows in the middle of the picture are my first two roommates in Chicago. They’re pretty much the best ones a girl could ask for. Photo taken at Bonny’s, of course.
_________________________________

¹And I am not one for unnecessary exclamation points. I was not a fan.

²So I had visited quite a few times and thought I loved it.

³Actually he did all the driving, as I don’t now, nor have I ever had a drivers license.