Chicago.

PICTURES TO COME WHEN WE GET TO DENVER.

The adrenaline rush of young girls inspired by Keroac only can last so long on the road at 2AM. At a gas station in Western Ohio I jogged around the car and confused old truck drivers in fishing hats by doing yoga. In a McDonald’s we bought our third cup of coffee and rolled our eyes at the world’s stupidest cashier who obviously didn’t understand our haste.  We had our first cigarettes of the trip and screamed lyrics to old songs we listened to in High School. I started to fade about 10 minutes from the city center. When we found out Bridget lived on the North Side in Evanston, another hour on the road, the devastation induced sleep.  I started to nod. 

But I was in CHICAGO. I had pinstriped gangster suits and sordid history at my fingertips. The White City, the Daley Regime, HAROLD WASHINGTON, bad public housing and the country’s most beautiful architecture. Jimmy Corrigan, Sufjan Stevens, Risky Business, all that goddamn jazz. No room for sleep.  Focus. Think Obama.

We made it, I don’t remember how. But I woke up on a loveseat/couch curled up into a ball. We sat down over Cheerios trying to figure out what to do next. I was a little frustrated that we only had one day and there was so much to see. Bridget accidentally got a three-day pass to Lollapalooza. Jill figured we could split a day pass and go to the concert, but it was sold out. A conversation with Abigail, Bridget’s sister sealed the deal:

Jill: Well that sucks.

Liz: What should we do?

Abigail: You could just sneak in.

Liz: To the concert?

Abigail: Yeah, a bunch of my friends hopped the fence last night. Some passed bands through the fence.

Jill: Interesting

Abigail: What I’m saying is you have options.

So we decided to sneak into Lollapalooza. But first we had a few things to take care of.  Jill really needed to learn to drive my manual car. So we had our first and last lesson. She got in the driver’s seat and I explained what to do. And she did it. No stalling, no freaking out, nothing. She just threw it into first and drove. That is my girl. We got incredibly lost driving around cookie-cutter suburbia, and she stalled once on a sharp turn and that was it. That only added to our energy and we hopped on the purple line of the “L” high on life on the road.

It’s hard to keep that energy on the “L” because it is the slowest train in the world. A child’s toy compared to New York’s subway system. But we toughed it out past the million colleges and universities and got off at Addison for WRIGLEY FIELD which was …a very historic baseball stadium. We bought hats. We took pictures. We deleted the ones we looked fat in. We took more. We asked some guy filling up ice in the back of a Starbucks where the best pizza in Chicago was. He gave us directions to a bunch of places and then said, “Just go to Gino’s East. You girls will like it. Ask for the Rock N Roll McDonalds.” He was from New Jersey.

We got off at Grand and walked to Gino’s in the sweatbox that is Chicago in the summer. Deep Dish pizza is incredible and just a little disgusting. We planned to never eat out again to save money. We talked about Jim Abbott for a bit and were inspired. Then made it down to Grant Park for the concert.

The security was insane. Double fences, double guards with machetes. There was no way, NO WAY to sneak Jill in. So I put on the bracelet, walked inside to get someone to sneak her in. This is incredibly hard for me because I am shy and non-confronatational. But this was everything. We were destined to be at Lollapalooza and I needed to pull it together. I picked an unassuming guy by the fountain who had full blown herpes lips, Joe from Ireland. He complied without question and everything was fine and destiny was fulfilled.

Glasvegas was awesome. I still can’t understand what that is guy singing about even live. Lykke Li was the absolute highlight. Beautiful girl, beautiful band. Another Joe, from Australia talked to us for a while about how awesome she is and how Chicago is a stop on his way to Italy. I don’t understand how one uses Chicago as a stopping point from Australia to Italy, but I felt small and insignificant for a minute. Animal collective was trippy. Jill was not impressed. But we made friends with some drunk guys from Minnesota who are hooking Jill up with Phoenix/Passion Pit tickets in New York in September. We were walking to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs when we were distracted for about half an hour by the most amazing DJ ever- Bass Netar. He has both sick beats and hair…it was long and made it seem as though Cousin It was spinning. OH AND HE SPUN. AND WE DANCED. AND SWEAT. BY GOD DID WE SWEAT. We caught 45 minutes of Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Karen O just blended in with the eccentric beauty of the skyline behind her.

We left at 10 in disbelief that we just experienced Lollapalooza for the first time…for free…by accident. A midnight tour seemed appropriate. We did Millenium Park, Navy Pier which is like Coney Island after 10 Plastic surgeries and injected with adorable children and Maclaren strollers. We had some beers and looked at big ships on Lake Erie. Then we walked all through downtown. I was amazed at the really expensive looking girls and the long lines to get in the bars. I think I saw four bacherlorette parties in a row. Seriously. No one seemed to notice us since we looked like gross hippies in sneakers and sweaters. I kind of liked it because I felt like voyeurs. Jill laughed audibly at Chicago guidos. We talked about why humans are afraid of spiders and about how happy we were to be on the road together. Then we sat on the Art Institute steps fighting our sleep and waiting for Bridget to pick us up. A young and very stoned man on a Pedicab rode up to us and kept us company for half an hour. Paul from Austin, Texas. We talked about Creationism and he told us he would take us around Austin when we get there.

Home by 2:30, in bed by 3, up and back on the road by 6. Our sleep has totaled about 7 hours in 3 days. We were in Madison, Wisconsin by 10. Everyone thinks its really cute but Madison just seemed like a little aftertaste burp after the massive chili cheese dog that was Chicago. Or like you just had Thanksgiving dinner and its dessert time and some gives you a goddamn after-dinner mint. I want my pie and I want it in Deadwood.

No stopping till Sturgis. Longest stretch of the trip. It’s supposed to be 15 hours but Jill’s driving and she wants pie too.