the aftermath

on the 10th, after a fun stay downtown with the fam after shows and some rest, we woke up, drove up to orange, and had some breakfast. we took a little driving tour by wrigley and my bro took a photo, which he evenutally photoshopped into this:

come on.

after the tour, we decided to head to the art museum to get in a little more culture, and saw a shitton of stuff we liked a lot. a docent we met told us a little bit about what we couldn't miss (i hated myself for not going there more often, of course, as she told us). she recommended the standards to my fam and also slipped in the fact that she loved caillebotte the most.

"he was not a pig like monet," she scoffed. "monet rolled in his money. caillebotte gave it away. i have worked here for 27 years, and with my first paycheck, i bought a print of caillebotte to remind me what matters."

i liked her. i liked her conviction and liked thinking that claude monet was just a jerkoff.

we saw as much as we could. we were there for hours but there was no time for more than 20% of that place at a decent clip. man. chicago, right?

after a stop at garrett's p-cornfor their trip home and a quick bag pack, my fam dropped me off in the midst of a major downpour and hit the road. i cried when they left when i got upstairs.

but i'm glad they came.