We're not even there yet and I'm already feeling it... the crowdedness, the pushiness, the lack of personal space. Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean, the dude sitting behind me is jiggling my chair with his foot on my armrest. All the while, the ladies congregating in the tight exit row space in front of me are doing their best Flashdance impression. Well... they're actually just stretching, but it kinda looks more like a half-hearted attempt at reenacting the Maniac video. 
Pretty amusing, but not when it's two inches from your face. The best part is, when the wifey and I get up to stretch, the lady sitting next to us suddenly takes the liberty of laying across all our seats. She's even using the wifey's pillow, and I'm almost positive she's gonna snake my headphones too! Awesome. Even in Economy Plus, we're surrounded by fellow yellows all up in our grill like we're in some perpetual Chinatown waiting room. I guess I'd better get reacquainted with that feeling and flip that internal switch into "China" mode.
Picture of the Day
We're So There!
The wifey is standing about 100 feet away from me and she's whispering sweet nothings into the air. Amazingly, I can hear every word she's saying... although she sounds an awful lot like that Verizon guy. Can you hear me now? Can you hear me now? Luckily for me, she's a lot cuter. Anyway, we're having this long distance conversation underneath the beautifully designed Tiffany ceiling at the Macy's on State Street. Completed in 1907, the ceiling consists of about 1.6 million little pieces of glass and is the largest one Mr. Tiffany ever built. Hmm, try having this thing appraised at the Antiques Road Show. And, it is so acoustically in tuned that I can hear the wifey's ramblings from clear across the building. Who needs AT&T when you got this thing?
Anyhoo, what we're really here for is the Frango. You know, those decadent chocolate mints that come in the green box that they sell down in the Cellar at Macy's? Well, it all started here back in the day when this store used to be called Marshall Field's. There's even an old chocolate conveyor belt on display that looks like something straight out of an I Love Lucy episode. 
But as delectable as the little mints are, we're actually seeking something even better: the Frango ice cream pie -- Frango chocolate mint ice cream topped with golden nougat in a rich graham cracker crust. Mmmm. Kill me now and I would die happily. We've been craving this since the last time we were in Chicago, and we're sure to crave it again the next time we're here...
...which really isn't too far in the near future since we find ourselves back for dinner. This time, in the Walnut Room, an elegant restaurant tucked away on the 7th floor of the department store. To dine here is to be thrown back a hundred years to the past, where the wood paneled walls [made of walnut, I presume] and the tuxedo-clad waiters take you back to a more civilized era. The chicken pot pie has been on the menu since 1907, and although the Frango ice cream pie is fiddy cents more here than at the cafe, the extra dollop of whipped cream and that sprig of mint they put on top of it makes it all worthwhile... and it definitely satisfies our cravings. Mr. Marshall Field's motto was "Give the lady what she wants" and since this could technically be considered a girls trip, all I can do in response is bat my eyelashes and say, "Give it to me baby!"
Random Stuff:
Tiffany is big here. The Chicago Cultural Center has the largest Tiffany dome in the world. A cellist happened to be giving a concert while we were there. Purty. The dome, that is.
Picture of the Day
Chicago Cultural Center
Hands down, the Field Museum of Natural History in Chicago has the best stuffed animal collection ever... and I don't mean the cutesy Hello Kitty kind either. No, the ones I'm referring to are the hunted, killed, stuffed, and put-on-display taxidermy kind that would eat you if they were still alive... kinda like what they used to have at the old Academy of Sciences before they screwed it up. I swear there must be one of every known mammal that ever existed here... from man-eating lions to the smallest hummingbirds. I know, it's kinda morbid and inhumane, but the educational value is undeniable, especially when today is Target free day at the museum! Yay, we heart Tar-zhay!
Anyhoo, today we bid adieu to the lovely ladies, and say 'ni hao' to another set of ladies on our way to Chicago's Chinatown. The wifey and I are on the Red Line train, but we really have no clue as to where the hell this Chinatown is... so, I figure we'd kinda just wing it when we get there. To our luck, scurrying along past us comes a couple of old Chinese ladies toting plastic bags full of groceries. Now, try to imagine your mom going mai sung [grocery shopping] with her buddy. Hmm, where would they be heading? Chinatown, of course! Tail them! It'll be like following a couple of ducks to the pond... or in this case, a couple of ah-moos to tong yun fau. 
I dunno what is it about my desire to go to every C-town in every city we visit. Maybe I just have a thing for big gaudy gates. Though, the gate here isn't very elaborate. The Chi-town Chi(na)-town only runs like 5 blocks down Wentworth Street and consists of mostly restaurants, boba tea shops, knick-knack stores, and a few markets. Wait, I think I just described every Chinatown in the world. It's kinda dreary here actually, but I'm strangely drawn to it. Maybe deep down inside, I'm really the duck forever waddling to that pond called Chinatown. To it's credit though, I've yet to see anyone hock a loogie.
I wonder how the milk tea is here.
Random Stuff:
Stopping at Garrett Popcorn for some greasy popcorn. You can smell that buttery aroma a block away, but it just kinda tastes like warmed Cracker Jacks... without the toy.
- The Chicago Tribune Tower has actual pieces of famous monuments from around the world (the Great Wall, the Taj Mahal, etc.) attached to its exterior walls. A cool collection, but isn't it vandalism to take chunks from all those landmarks?
The Field Museum also has Sue, the world's largest and most complete T. Rex fossil.
- Housekeeping throws away Cindy's shoebox.
Picture of the Day
Water Buffaloes
It's Sunday morning and I'm standing in a long line of chicks in front of Harpo Studios. There are some guys around, but the dude-to-chick ratio is definitely low. Normally, this would be ok... if we were at a club. But with everyone dressed up the way they are, it feels more like we're going to church... the Church of Oprah. Which may not be such a bad thing, since it's gonna take some divine intervention for me to get in.
Thanks to Cindy, the Ladies are all on the standby list [another FoC--or Friend of Cindy--benefit]. But unfortunately, her kung-fu powers aren't enough to get me on that list, so I stand behind them hoping I can "me too" my way in. As the heavy-set security lady is checking off their names, she comes up to me and says flatly, "You're not on the list." Then scribbles something on her notes, and walks away. Damn. I'm screwed. No new car for me. Oh well. It was worth a try. At least it's not a total loss, since I get to befriend others who also weren't on the list... including a nice elderly lady from Louisiana and a cute old couple from South Carolina who've been waiting in line since 5:30am. Nice people, indeed. Let's just say before this day is out, I end up hugging and joining hands and praisin' the lord with all of them. Don't ask me why. Must be the Oprah effect.
The Ladies are far ahead of me now, and as the line starts to dwindle, so do my hopes of getting in. Then, suddenly, one of Oprah's assistants approaches me and says, "You must be the 'Dude'" Umm, yeah? "We'll try to get you in." No way. Apparently, the security lady had written "+Dude" on her list next to the Ladies' names. I'm so in! It's a miracle! The big O must be looking down upon me. In fact, all my elderly friends in the back of the line get in too. [insert hugging and lord praising here].
Security is tight as hell at the gate--much worse than at any airport--and I'm like the absolute last person to get into the studio. There's a strange feeling in the air... like some sorta estrogen-induced Oprah high. Everyone in the audience is giddy, especially Consuela whose visit here today is pretty much on the top of her bucket list. It's not long before Oprah makes her appearance and glides onto the stage like a winged angel flanked on both sides by her cherub-like assistants, who then kneel before her placing on her feet a new pair of Louboutins. I suddenly feel lifted on my feet, my hands in the air applauding and jumping up and down like a hysterical little girl. I might as well be shouting "Hallelujah! It's Oprah! Hallelujah!" Hey, at least I'm not crying like some of these girls here are.
She does command quite a stage presence though, and it's kinda neat to actually see her in person cuz she looks pretty much the same as she does on TV. So today's topic is "Make Over Your Man"... which I guess is sort of a dude-related subject. However, on stage is Oprah, Tim Gunn from Project Runway, and Carson Kressley from Queer Eye... and it cannot get any more gay and fabulous than this. I realize that just being here might constitute an act of gayness in itself, but hey, it's all good... it's Oprah... and there might be prizes to be had! But alas, there would be no new car for me. Instead of "You get a car! You get a car! You get a car!" it's more like "You get a book! You get a book! You get a book!" We all get a book about dating men. Awesome. Just what I need. Oh well... I guess I didn't have to make space in my garage afterall.
Anyway, donations to the Church of Oprah can be made across the street at the Oprah Store, where Oprah comes out a little richer and you a little poorer. The Ladies buy all kinds of paraphernalia, including Oprah clothes, Oprah housewares, Oprah knick knacks. Cindy even buys a dress that Oprah has actually worn [all proceeds go to charity, but still]. It's no wonder the Big O's a billionaire.
Only Oprah could drag us out of bed so early on a Sunday morning. Only Oprah could bring so much kindness to people who've been waiting in line for hours. Only Oprah could get me to hug a random stranger. Only Oprah could get Cindy to drop two hundred and fitty big ones on a used dress. From this, I can only come to one simple conclusion... that Oprah Winfrey is pretty much Jesus in a dress.
Random Stuff:- Susie asks, "Who's Nate Berkus?" I think she should've been at the back of the line instead of me.
- Kudos to Cin for getting us the "in" on Oprah. I dunno how she does it, but I guess they don't call her "Luscious" for nothing...hmmm.
- This episode airs May 5, 2010.
Chicago in a day... hanging out in Millenium Park, Cloud Gate, and Buckingham Fountain [the Married With Children Fountain]; shopping at Macy's and the Magnificent Mile; eating at the world's largest McD's, hot dogs at Portillo's, and Gino's East for deep dish pizza. Oh, and Oprah! Whew!
Picture of the Day
Posing With the Bean
I dunno if this is officially considered a girls trip per se, but I am travelling with 4 chicks. To Chicago. To see Oprah Winfrey. I guess it can't really get anymore girly than that. Let's just say the estrogen levels in the air are definitely higher than normal. But hey, I hang out with these lovely ladies often enough that I'm an honorary member of the girl's club. Anyway, who wants to be in a sausage fest when there's a chance to meet Oprah?!? Whatever, think what you will of me. We'll compare penis sizes after she gives everyone in the audience a new car, biatch. Ok, maybe not. Girls trip or not, I'm hella mooching in on this one!
Random Stuff:- The four lovely ladies: the wifey, our dear friends Cindy, Susie, and Consuela.
- While checking in at SFO, the AA agent asks if Consuela is "of age" to sit in the exit row. Really? Does she look younger than 16? Or maybe older than 81.
I just got out of the shower... or at least it kinda feels that way. We're standing in a long line inside the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and outside, it's pouring rain. The six-block, umbrella-less walk from the subway station to the Met has got me drenched from head to toe. I might as well have stepped right into a running shower. All I need is some shampoo and conditioner, and I can lather up my hair like the girl in those Herbal Essences commercials. I guess I really could've avoided this dousing by purchasing an umbrella from the guy on the corner, but my cheap-Chinese upbringing prevents me from paying $10 for a crappy umbrella I could buy for $2.50 at the 98-cent store on Mott Street. At least I've got my jeans and Converses on. Wait, that's not a good thing is it? Ugh, wet jeans and soaked shoes. Awesome.
Anyhoo, why are we here on such a miserable rainy day? All in the name of education and enlightenment, of course. For her Spring Break homework assignment, the niece is supposed to visit and write a report on a museum... so what better place to peruse works of art than at the Metropolitan Museum of Art? Besides, it's a great way to get out of the rain. Too bad everyone else and their mammas in NYC has got the same brilliant idea. So here we are standing in line... a growing puddle forming below me; my wet shoes squeaking along the dry linoleum floor; a trail of water following me as we approach the ticket counter...
Me: 2 adults and one student, please.
Ticket Agent: That'll be $50.
Me: Can I pay $25?
Ticket Agent: Sure.
Me: Cooool
I've always heard a myth that the posted admission price was merely a suggested donation, and that if you really wanted to, you could pay whatever you want to get in. Consider this myth: confirmed! I have no shame... you can pay what you want to get in! Or maybe the ticket agent just felt sorry for the drenched skinny Asian dude. Whatever the reason, we're so in!
The wifey and I haven't been back here in almost a decade. Walking through all the different halls and seeing some quite magnificent exhibits brings back fond memories and makes me almost forget about the crazy crowd. Almost. There's so much to see here, maybe too much... everything from Egyptian artifacts to medieval masterpieces to an actual Dyson vacuum cleaner are all on display. The niece is wow'ed by the Temple of Dendur (built 15 B.C.) that's beautifully on display in the Sackler Wing; t
he wifey is mesmerized by Pygmalion and Galatea, a 19th century oil painting by Jean-Léon Gérôme; and I'm getting yelled at by the museum police for taking pictures of some special exhibit that I don't even know the name of. C'mon, give a wet Chinese guy a break. All I know is, the niece better be getting an A+ on this report.
Today's Snackies:-
Mandoo Bar. Midtown West, Koreatown. I know, from it's name, the place sounds more like a gay strip club than a Korean dumpling house. On a lunch break from the Met, we take a 100-block detour to chow down on some yummy kim chee mandoo, pork mandoo, and bibimbop. It's almost worth the trip just to checkout the old Korean cougars making the dumplings at the window.
Ippudo. East Village. Ok, I'd have to say the ramen is pretty good here. Although, having recently returned from Japan, I'm a bit spoiled. The place is ultra-hip, club-like, loud, and a bit Asian-fusiony. And by Asian-fusiony, I mean paying $15 for modestly sized servings in a fancy bowl. We have the Aka Maru Modern and the Kamo Nanban Shoyu. Don't forget to add the Kakuni [fatty pork] and the Hirata Buns. Yum. Worth the 90 minute wait on a Tuesday night? If you can't make it to Tokyo tonight, then I guess. I'm spoiled.
Pictures of the Day
Macy's Flower Show
Step Aside!
