Showing posts with label Architecture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Architecture. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

The Great Steppenwolf Cheese Massacre

On our second day of Chicago-ness, Hayley and I opted for some fried chicken, skyscrapers, cheese, and a wee bit of theatre (spelled with a -re). I was staying in the Lakeview District of Chicago, which is pretty goshdarn adorable and even has its own mosaic tile welcome wall-mat. So lets start here.




Time to suit up.




Hayley's look = Steel-Eyed Ballerina




My look = Hardworking 1st Baseman

We journeyed to a restaurant called Crisp which I had discovered the week before by following nice smells in the area. Our meal was the culinary highlight of our trip. Take the best chicken strips you've ever had, then cover them with the most delicious soy sauce concoction you could ever imagine. Of course, we also had to get in on some rice and veggie action. We paired our entree with diet A&Ws. The flavors melded very well. Seriously, if you are ever in the Lakeview area, GO to Crisp. 

 So happy!
So full!

In the afternoon, we signed up for an Architectural Boat Tour. It was the best 2 hour nap ever. Just kidding. I don't know what it is about boats, but they make me feel like a sleepy baby in a hammock. I should mention that by this point I had been in Chicago for a week, but had yet to go into the downtown area. Did you know they have skyscrapers there? In fact, Chicago is the birthplace of the skyscraper. Wow. Those suckers are tall. 

The skyscrapers actually made me feel very small and insignificant and structurally unsound. Skycrapers: the supermodels of architecture. Speaking of large buildings, deep-dish pizza. We took a walk down Michigan Ave and found ourselves at Giardano's world famous pizza. 

Oh, sweet slice of pizza

scene of the crime

We then high-tailed it to Steppenwolf Theatre where we saw the quietly gorgeous Middletown by Will Eno. The play takes place in a small-town where a new comer Mary forms a friendship with a handyman named John. It talks about connection, loneliness, and our inability to see how breathtaking life really is. I would call it "Our Town" for an isolated generation and a damn fine piece of theatre. To quote the play, "Some of the dust on my shoes is from outer space. Most of the rest is dead human skin. Infinity, asteroids, and your great-great grandmother. All that struggle and science and stale candy in every little speck. You look at it and you think dirt. That's not even half the story."

All told, a simply loverly way to spend a day in Chicago.


I pretend to be a stepping wolf.