I Got Pierced and Sang in Front of the Men's Bathroom

So I just got back from a girls weekend in Chi-town with my friends Jodi and Tricia. It. Was. So. FUN. What a great time, and what a nice break.
We got there around 5 on Friday. Let me give you a tip. Do not exit off the freeway when you're still about 15 miles from your destination because you think the freeway is too crowded. We traveled about 5 blocks in about 20 minutes because the stoplights are all evil and are green for about 10 seconds. The lady in my GPS kept trying to get us off the road and back on the highway. I swear each time we ignored her directions she kept getting more and more pissed each time she snapped "Recalculating!". I almost expected a hand to come out of the box and slap me in the face til we listened to her. We finally bowed down to the all-knowing GPS lady and slunk back onto the freeway. Then we only had to drive around the block of my parents' condo about 3 times before getting a parking spot! Whoot!

After settling in, we got dolled up and headed out. Dinner first, then followed by a dueling piano bar. The definite highlight of the bar was the 200-year-old man wearing a kickass sailer's cap coming up to Jodi and dragging her out of her chair to dance with him. We called him Hugh Hefner. He was a total stud.

Then came the moment when I realized I was ready to do it. Time to pierce the nose! We trotted out of the bar and into a cab where I told the cabbie to go to "Uh, I think it's the Chicago Tattoo Company? On Belmont? I think?" After he pulled up to a boarded up building I figured it was time to call 411. They pointed us in the right direction and we finally found the place. Alas, it was closed. It was only 1:30 am! Wouldn't you think that would be their prime business time??
So Tricia said "Mr Cab Driver, can you take us to another tattoo/piercing place?". He drove us through some scary ass streets and I was having visions of getting taken to someone's house and getting pierced with a dirty needle in someone's basement by a man named Spike when he pulled up in front of a place that was actually nice, clean, well-lit, etc. We felt even better when we saw the cops inside flipping through the tattoo pictures. Sweet.
I sat down and made friends with the big bald dude with long goatee and multiple piercings (including genital, he felt obligated to tell us for some reason. Don't worry, we didn't have to see them) who would be piercing me. His name was Hank and he was awesome. Sweetest guy ever, and I'm telling you the piercing did not hurt at ALL. No pinch, no sting, no burn, nothing. I was afraid I was going to break Jodi's hand from squeezing it so hard, but there was no reason to!

The next night...oh boy. We headed to a little dive bar that had karaoke. It was actually pretty humorous, the number of guys who slinked over to our tables to try and pick us up, who then saw our wedding rings and found out we had kids, and promptly slinked away. We did get shots out of one, and drinks out of another, though. Yeah, we still got it, bitches.
We went up onstage (well, not so much a stage as a patch of floor in front of the men's bathroom) and regaled everyone with our rendition of "Why Don't We Get Drunk and Screw?". Don't every tell me we're not classy. A couple hours later, we got to go back up and sing again. We totally flopped. I couldn't believe it! We sang the hell out of "Kiss Me Deadly" and it's like we were singing to a room of dead people. Well, except the guy who, when we sang (or shouted drunkenly, more accurately) "kiss me once!" replied "NO THANKS!". Ouch.
Between that and the guys shoving us to the side to go take a whizz, and Tricia's drunken shouting of "COME ON!" at the wrong times of the song, and the fact that NOT ONE PERSON clapped when we were done, we decided it was time to move on and stumble home.

I had a great time this weekend, and I'm sure there were a million more funny moments that I can't remember...alcohol tends to fog your brain. I love my friends. I wish Sue had been able to come, but I understood why she couldn't and I love her anyways too.

But one of the best moments of the weekend? Coming home and seeing my babies and watching Tate's face light up as I came through the door. And seeing Nora stuff her whole hand in her mouth (yeah, she got that from me) with glee. Oh, and the fact that Tate has now decided that he only wants Daddy to put him to bed and go up to his room and put him back in bed for the 38546 times he got out of bed. Hee hee.