Call me Kobayashi.

okay... so don't really.

maybe I should have titled it, "you could have almost called me kobayashi"... it just wouldn't fit in the title bar... and it's pretty much like trying to claim, "I almost ran marathon"... it doesn't really count if it didn't happen... right?!?

I went to Chicago this last weekend on a slightly spontaneous trip, and in the end, it was well worth it, as almost all spontaneous trips are... mainly b/c of the sandwich eating contest i almost entered.  To preface my story I will tell you my flight was delayed into chicago (yeah, i was big league-in' it) and since it had been nearly 8 hours since my last meal I got a slice of pizza, a diet coke, and a cookie... obviously being intentional about having a sample from each food group...  I was basically on the verge of paranoia that they would board me on the plane and then make me sit on the runway for 3 hours, as a storm that, "covered all of wisconsin" took it's time passing over... and i figured I needed to keep my "on board" time focused on praying that the plane didn't get struck by lightning or that the wind wouldn't flip it @ 15,000 feet, rather than using my thoughts to convince myself that my stomach lining was eating itself.  Coming to find out it was a wise move,  seeing as our plane landed at 8:06 pm :) 

Sara picked me up soon after... fresh from a hit and run.  

not what you expected.  I know.  She was the hit(ee) not hit(er)... and they were both in cars. Don't worry, the best part about the story is that when she saw him flee, she chased him down. yes she did. potentially dangerous? yes.  Did he switch 3 lanes? yes. Did she? yes.  Did he take her down side streets? yes. But is it something any of the Charlie's Angels would do in a heartbeat... absolutely yes. and for that (and the good outcome of the story) I am proud... and yes, she turned that sucker in.  He had it coming. 

So you're probably thinking, "and why should I still be almost calling you kobayashi?"  well, when we finally made it to dinner, I was given a challenge.  We went to a place in Wrigleyville called Lucky's.  They are known for their sandwiches, and the fact that the french fries come on it (don't knock it til you try it)... As I was finishing my sandwich the bartender asked how I liked it, I told him it was great and (in typical emily - joking fashion) told him I was ready for my next one... Only to find out that there is a little competition at this restaurant where if you eat 3 sandwiches in one sitting, you get your name, picture, and a nickname on the wall.  Um, Hello...  the competitive wheels in my head started turning, and the fact that my sister was sitting beside me saying, "em, you could totally do it" and knowing there is yet to be a female represented on the wall was playing a crucial part in me trying to make my brain tell my stomach it could down two more of those bad boys... and momentum kept building... bets started coming down the bar... "i'll give you $20, forth row tickets to a cubs game, i'll buy one of the sandwiches..." 

The dramatic climax to the story turns to a dramatic thud.  

i didn't do it.

I told myself if i didn't have that darn pizza at dtw it would have been in the bag ;)  

I haven't completely given up though... let me know if you want to carpool on my next trip to Chicago... I know this little bar with great sandwiches ;)