missile

I officially have 17 more days in the lovely city of Chicago, then I am officially going home.

Boyfriend is doing very well, I cannot explain how excited I am to see him again.

My proudest moment of this week:

After shooting the Miss Wicker Park pageant at the Double Door...

... we got shitfaced at the Flat Iron and pretended to be gay all night, as we're both in loving relationships. I then proceeded to take an overpriced cab home, try to log into my MacBook, discovered that it was fucked up and wouldn't boot, and replaced the fucking RAM myself, at 3am, after at least six gin & tonics.

That, my friends, is true pride.

Then I sent sauced pictures to Whim.



He's lucky I'm kind of vain.