Matt Tuesday, the recovery
So yeah. I haven't been that good about the whole posting thing lately. Given the choice of blogging about going out or actually going out, well, there's no real choice there. And considering that the evenings are prime blogging time, and prime going out time, the issue has come up often.
So anyway. Monday and Tuesday, post-Matt Tuesday, were spent recovering—well spent, at that. Wednesday, Dan was DJing at Clark's again, and I headed up there, Jeff in tow (or vice versa, as he was driving). I relished the $2 Lone Stars, the good company, the good music, and the chance to chat with Jessica more. I had hoped to finally get around to asking her out, but as I'm apparently still a very insecure son of a bitch, and there were plenty of others around, I didn't get around to it. And just to make sure to not keep you in suspense, I still haven't. Because I'm still, apparently, an insecure son of a bitch.
We'll skip ahead to Friday. I went with Will and crew to see The 40-Year-Old Virgin, and despite my lack of true enthusiasm for the film (though I was encouraged by positive reviews), and our horrible floor-level seats, I found it plenty o' enjoyable. I can definitely recommend it if you're seeking stupid but sweet fun. Maybe one day I can be a forty-year-old virgin...
Dan and Kristin were headed up to Super Happy Fun Land, way the hell up on the north side of the loop, to see Head of Femur play their hyper prog (cf. the Fiery Furnaces; Architecture in Helsinki). The band was enjoyable, though the set was short. The venue was a very nice change of pace. It's sort of an artists' commune/performance space, housed in what used to be a church, with the feel of a community center and the aging furniture of a youth group room. Plus, it was BYOB. Next time there's a show there, I'm totally bringing a cooler. And a flask (more on that later).
Afterwards we went to Poison Girl and found Dacia and Jessica there. The girls ended up keeping to themselves for most of the evening, so Dan and I had a nice, semi-drunken chat. And, once again, mission not accomplished. There were goldfish, though. God bless those wonderful little crackers and the bar that's willing to give me them while I'm dropping bills on $2 Lone Stars.
I'll wrap this one up for now. Up next: Six Feet Under, the finale; another night at Cecil's; the Wrens; a glimpse into Sabrina's new world; more of DJ Jazzy Dan; Sunday at Cecil's with hurricane refugees, and whatever the hell goes on tonight. Perhaps next entry I'll get caught up, so I can, you know, chill out for a while and get behind again.
So anyway. Monday and Tuesday, post-Matt Tuesday, were spent recovering—well spent, at that. Wednesday, Dan was DJing at Clark's again, and I headed up there, Jeff in tow (or vice versa, as he was driving). I relished the $2 Lone Stars, the good company, the good music, and the chance to chat with Jessica more. I had hoped to finally get around to asking her out, but as I'm apparently still a very insecure son of a bitch, and there were plenty of others around, I didn't get around to it. And just to make sure to not keep you in suspense, I still haven't. Because I'm still, apparently, an insecure son of a bitch.
We'll skip ahead to Friday. I went with Will and crew to see The 40-Year-Old Virgin, and despite my lack of true enthusiasm for the film (though I was encouraged by positive reviews), and our horrible floor-level seats, I found it plenty o' enjoyable. I can definitely recommend it if you're seeking stupid but sweet fun. Maybe one day I can be a forty-year-old virgin...
Dan and Kristin were headed up to Super Happy Fun Land, way the hell up on the north side of the loop, to see Head of Femur play their hyper prog (cf. the Fiery Furnaces; Architecture in Helsinki). The band was enjoyable, though the set was short. The venue was a very nice change of pace. It's sort of an artists' commune/performance space, housed in what used to be a church, with the feel of a community center and the aging furniture of a youth group room. Plus, it was BYOB. Next time there's a show there, I'm totally bringing a cooler. And a flask (more on that later).
Afterwards we went to Poison Girl and found Dacia and Jessica there. The girls ended up keeping to themselves for most of the evening, so Dan and I had a nice, semi-drunken chat. And, once again, mission not accomplished. There were goldfish, though. God bless those wonderful little crackers and the bar that's willing to give me them while I'm dropping bills on $2 Lone Stars.
I'll wrap this one up for now. Up next: Six Feet Under, the finale; another night at Cecil's; the Wrens; a glimpse into Sabrina's new world; more of DJ Jazzy Dan; Sunday at Cecil's with hurricane refugees, and whatever the hell goes on tonight. Perhaps next entry I'll get caught up, so I can, you know, chill out for a while and get behind again.
posted by L. Maxwell Ward at 12:53 AM
