Chicago

I flew to Chicago for the weekend to surprise one of my best friends for her birthday.
Our activities included lunch at A Mano (lovely Italian place that reminded us of 2001, the year we met while studying abroad in Milan), cocktails at Rebar (in the Trump tower with a view of the lake), Wicked (yes, the Broadway show which I had never seen before), and the LBD (little black dress) third annual party. All of the girls showed up in their little black numbers, all of the boys showed up in their "I'm not really wearing a suit" pants and ties, all of the martinis were mixed an hour before showtime to avoid any alcohol-induced spillage in the kitchen, and the night was certainly an affair to remember (over-sized sunglasses and messy chignon the morning after to prove it).

Back in NYC now to try and work off that weekend of indulgence, but how can you go back to carrots and hummus after cupcakes and highballs?