Linking Up and Drinking Down

I had big plans for this post, I really did. With a “party don’t stop til I walk in” theme, possibilities are pretty much endless. Should I post pics of all my cute party dresses? Recipes for all the fancy drinks I drink? Ideas for drinking games that are fun yet responsible? 

Then I remembered that I pretty much only wear jeans when I go out, don’t drink anything but beer, and couldn’t even begin to talk about drinking games that don’t involve consuming large amounts of alcohol in the least amount of time. 

So I scrolled through old FB albums for inspiration and stumbled across ones from a trip my sisters and I took to Chicago a few years ago. Perfect! Now I can impress Steph w/ my intimate knowledge of her city. Or at least my intimate knowledge of the Wrigleyville bars and the Taco Bell wearing the Cubs hat. 

The worst part of going out is getting ready. There, I said it. Maybe I’m not a “real” girl. I guess in college it could be fun, dancing and drinking while raiding your friends’ closet and making her do your eye makeup. But seeing as how I have about three outfits I rotate, no idea how to properly blow dry my hair, and nothing but drug store mascara to work with, I’m ready to go 20 minutes out the shower. All time spent on primping could better be spent drinking, am I right? 

Whenever my sisters and I get together, we always have a night where we plan on getting cute and going out dancing. Those nights are fun. Know what’s even more fun? The nights where we have absolutely no expectations, head out in our glasses and ponytails, and get after it. This was one of those nights. 

one of those nights where you throw on a scarf and call it a day 

We started out at a comedy club near my sisters’ apartment. Let me back up a sec; we started out w/ multiple shots at my sisters’ apartment. Which led to more drinks at the comedy club (it was an improv show and it was awesome). Which led to playing Edward 40-hands at a nearby bar. Which led to forming an impromptu dance floor around our booth. Which led to us being the most annoying popular group at the bar. 

actually, bar patrons were lining up to dance w/ us 

I think the name of the bar was the Houndstooth. I think we ordered more shots b/c that’s how we roll. 

I know there was a guy that I was interested in that ended up kissing my sister (boo, you whore). I also know we ended up at Taco Bell w/ the rest of Wrigleyville. If that’s not the ultimate sign of a good night, I don’t know what is.