As we're all aware, this past Tuesday was a day of epic proportions. Obama took the presidency -- and I went back home to Chicago. I had two main reasons for my visit: I wanted to see baby Avery Forst (and mama G!) in the worst way, and I wanted to spend my last hours soaking up my weekday freedom with my best partner in unemployment crime, Christine.
As soon as I stepped off the plane and smelled that familiar McDonald's/Manchu Wok/Burrito Beach smell from the food court, I was grinning from ear to ear. It could have been my xanax induced happy haze, but darn it, it felt good to be home.
In all, it was a fantastic trip. We celebrated Alex's birthday by eating rabbit legs wrapped in bacon. We cooed and oohed and ahhed at the supreme cuteness that is Avery Shea Forst. We had dinner with Kub and Heather and laughed and talked and pretended like one of us (ahem) didn't move away.
But there was a big part of me that was really excited to come back to my HOME in New York. Being back in Chicago made me realize just how much I really do love it here.
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mew
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