Friday: arrived, was met by the adorable Poppy. Dropped my things at the Deluxe Apartment and then got back in the van. Lunch at the club (the penultimate in refined sophistication where Poppy ducked and ran so other members wouldn’t see her cargo pants!). Shopping for party supplies at Crate and Barrel. On to the supermarket where she shopped whilst I avoided the bike cop with the ticket book!
Back to the condo, staged for the cocktail gathering, chatted with the Adorable Mr. Buxom, awaited the guests. Mingled, more chatting, many glasses of champagne, I rounded out the evening with Thai food near midnight and a lovely glass of bourbon. Poppy hit the hay and Angie and I did our best quick clean up. Bed at about two in the morning. Woke at five, parched. Stumbled around the apartment looking for a bottle of water I was sure I saw earlier and…drank the melted ice water from the bottom of the champagne bucket, went back to bed.
Saturday: woke at about ten, threw on some clothes and stumbled down the block with Angie for some coffee. Sat around hydrating and holding our heads until our hostess arose, at which time we propped her up and had her drive us to breakfast with Ms. Lancaster! Fabulous pastries and a yogurt bar were inhaled and then serious float time began. The four of us proceeded to spend several hours lazily floating. Floating and talking. My preferred float was a noodle that I occasionally fell off of.
We floated so long that, upon de-pooling, several of us had a hard time with gravity. Got dressed and climbed into the vehicles for Wendy’s house – successfully navigated to for the first time ever, where we attended a retro Tupperware party presided over by a drag-queen. Hilarity ensued. Money was spent, retro snacks were enjoyed. Everyone wore aprons from Wendy’s impressive collection of vintage kitchen wear. Back to the apartment for Thai food leftovers (the best green chili chicken ever) where I could not stop exclaiming over the fact that it was not green (drunk much?). More talktalktalk, bed at midnight-ish.
Sunday: Wendy texted that Poppy had forgotten her phone. Meeting point chosen, we dragged our tired bodies to Watertower for some much-needed lunch and shopping. I had a drink called The Accomplice: muddled strawberries, gin, basil, prosecco and a sugar rimmed glass, which I could have eaten, it was so good. Wendy drove Angie to the train, Poppy and I cleaned/closed up the apartment and dragged our stuff (so much stuff!) down to the van for one of my favorite rides along the lakefront to Utopia (or whatever the hell Poppy calls her other town) where her adorable husband made us a lovely family dinner, where we sat on the porch in the breeze, with some wine until I-don’t-know-what o’clock. Passed out in the study, I arose at sevenish and arranged for a car to the aero port after doing the dance of joy upon hearing my flight would, in fact, leave. Rode with chitty chatty driver (sister was evacuated from an area five miles from my house) while I pondered what might await me in Tuvalu. Checked in with no trouble (am loving American Airlines – I know, weird) and ate a very bad bagel. Found my seat, put on the tunes, slept a bit and was met by my boyfriend K. Came home to a house that looked like it had weathered a storm but which, really, took no time at all to get back to normal.
Tired and happy, another Chicago visit for the books…or blogs as it were.
Sounds divine. So glad you had a wonderful time! Thanks for letting us participate vicariously after the fact.
I can't even believe this: I was in Chicago on Friday and Saturday. For a big knitting convention. Yes. I was. Ships in the night, Blackbird.
What a GREAT story to tell grandchildren.
Water from the champagne bucket? I think I would have taken my chances with the tap water.
You have the best girlfriend weekends ever.
Sounds like my recent weekend in LA with good friends. Good times! I'm glad you had them.
Thank goodness you covered things because you just know I'll never get around to it.
I do have an awesome (headless) picture of Wendy in her retro Tupperware Party hostess finery, though.
I was reading Jen Lancaster's My Fair Lazy this week... AND YOU WERE IN IT! I felt like I had met royalty or something.