The weather was beautiful.
"Are you sure you're going to be warm enough?" Amy warned, and we went to her closet to grab a scarf and dress coat.
But it was beautiful.
"Your face got sunburned!" Amy guffawed at me later that night. "How do you live in Texas and come to Chicago and get sunburned?!"
"I wear sun block in Texas!" I defended myself, giggling with her.
Mom bought us tickets to go see Wicked on Saturday for Amy's birthday. Oh. My. Gosh. I don't know how I lucked out on that birthday present, but I did. And it was the "best birthday present ever!" as Amy exclaimed. I bought her a tee shirt to commemorate it.
The morning started off at the Handlebar, this great little restaurant tucked into the bottom floor of a building. And the wait staff was to die for. These casual cuties could have been imported from Austin to this delicious dive. So Amy and I enjoyed both the food and the sights!
From there we took the El downtown and after identifying the theatre where we needed to be in a few hours, we began walking towards the lake. Except we didn't. We walked the wrong way. An hour later, we did reach the lake though and the beautiful park, fountains and statues that nestled beside it. Brent and Matt, who we'd intended to meet there, were nowhere to be found, so we headed back toward the Oriental.
But first we had to change our shoes. We'd been wearing walk-able ones since we left the house this morning, but now we were going to the theatre and true to form, we pulled out our heels. "I don't know how Jessica does it," Amy lamented after we had walked a block beautifully in our theatre shoes. "Jessica Simpson wears high heels every day," Amy had informed me earlier when we were walking forever in the wrong direction. "You probably never wear nice shoes at the hospital I guess," I replied, proud that I was fairing better in the heels than my always dolled up sister. "I haven't dressed up in months," she replied.
The Oriental Theatre was gorgeous with all kinds of exquisite animals and gods sculpted into the walls and ceilings. I tried to take a picture of them, but was promptly yelled at and so just admired them through my opera glasses.
Right before the show started, a man came by yelling about water he was selling. "What? Are we at a ballgame? Is nothing sacred anymore?" I muttered under my breath.
"Is he selling food?" Amy asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"Twizzlers!" He held them up. "I want those," she said in classic I've returned to childhood persona, petitioning me with her big eyes, and unable to resist her request, I pulled out three dollars and bought them for her.
The show was amazing. Amy turned to me at intermission, "Is it over?" She had tears in her eyes.
"No honey, its just intermission."
"Did you cry?" she asked me.
"No," I giggled, "but obviously you did."
I did cry at the finale. It's really a lovely story about scapegoating and the power of the powerful and the manipulated to decide what's good and what's evil, when it often claims no root in reality. It's about gumption and doing the right thing and friendship. Mostly, it's about friendship and love. That's why I cried. It was so neat to share that with one of my best friends.
So we bought matching tee shirts. Rather, I bought them for us. We called it part of her birthday present. The I heart Oz purple ringer tees with Elpheba and Glenda in the heart. They're way cute and I love that we both have matching ones.
After returning back to our side of town, we ran to the grocery store so we could eat dinner that night and I could cook us dinner the rest of the week. Shocker, I know. But I'm actually quite domesticated even if I can only cook three meals. No one's asking for your opinion.
So we ate onion soup and Amy went to bed. I watched four episodes of Grey's Anatomy on my computer and am content that I am all caught up. I'm not satisfied with the plot, but I am caught up. George and Izzie, I swear...
So that's it. That's Saturday. That was our one day together. And it was perfect. Two sisters, two friends, two pairs of shoes, two tickets, two witches, two meals, too much walking, too much fun.