Legendary; see: Epic.

You can’t sit down and plan a legendary weekend.

Sure, you can plan on eating good food.

Heads up- if you live in Chicago and eat at Ben Pao, order the seven flavor beef.  You will thank me, I promise.  (I’ll fill you in on the Ben Pao experience in a future post)

You can plan on fun activities like walking down Michigan Avenue, being embarrassingly touristy in your own town.

And we all know that ducking into stores to get out of the cold while on your way to get a hot sake or two is always a good idea.

But to be honest, you can’t plan for this:

Yes, that is a side pony.  And I’m rocking it.  I’m also sort of rocking a Bill Cosby face.

Or for this:

I’m starting with the girl in the mirror…

Saturday was one of those nights when the stars magically align for one of the most fun, out of control, epic dance parties celebrating the return (albeit brief) of one of your very dearest friends, Catherine.

If only we had managed to get a picture of us double dutching without a rope.

That was legendary.

And now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go eat a pound of broccoli and sleep for 12 hours or so.

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12 thoughts on “Legendary; see: Epic.

  1. I remember driving across the country, stopping in Nebraska and rocking a side pony for no good reason other than I was wearing pink shorts and a baby blue hoody, so I felt very 80s. My boyfriend who was with me at the time told me later that’s when he fell in love me. Sigh. The 80s brings the love.

  2. OMjiggityG. Side ponys automatically mean it’s a good night. Also, I broke my hand after a night of a few too many saki bombs…

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