Bananas go to law school, too!


Siggghhhhhh. Thanksgiving weekend is drawing to a close. This is always the point in my life where I declare "I want to stay in Chicago forever and have MUCH FUN." And then I think back to this past summer (of doom) and promptly change my mind. But still, it's going to be a struggle to go back with anything more than quiet dread of FINALS! and no more free food.

Last night Jill, Katie, Ian & I had a good time enjoying what the ridiculous parts of Chicago have to offer. Everyone but Ian (God bless his DD heart) consumed a trifecta of deliciousness (two pitchers, a bottle of wine and a few mixed drinks) which could only result in one thing at Moretti's on KAREEEEOOOOKKKKEEE Saturday. Kareoke. Where we all tripled out previous records by singing three songs (Little Mermaid, I Just Died in Your Arms Tonight and, the classic kareoke stand-by for the classy broads, Like a Prayer).

And, my boyfriend, Kareoke Terry was running it again. You may remember Kareoke Terry from such episodes as Anna Filling Out Job Applications to Work for Kareoke Terry (drunk) and Anna Does A Duet With Kareoke Terry from over the summer. And Kareoke Terry was complete with his golden flowing locks tied back in a ponytail that only men who run kareoke for trashy bars can pull off with his special brand of flair, gusto and good looks.

After the bar closed, I paid for Ian to CLEAN OUT [read: buy two packs] the White Hen of Wonka Cakes so I could buy a pack of super-cheap cigarettes (unlike NYC). Then we each had a taste of Ian's purple Wonka Cake. Oh, so clever and lewd, am I!

We went to Katie's and watched Jerry Mcguire where everyone shaked a collective angry fist at the psychosis that has become of our lovely Tom Cruise. I also spilled two beers on my pants. But did not the pee them.