My last visit to the Varsity Theater was under very different circumstances. It’s still a great venue.
The tequila shots made the cover band more interesting.
My last visit to the Varsity Theater was under very different circumstances. It’s still a great venue.
The tequila shots made the cover band more interesting.
Dinkytown is still one of my favorite places to spend my breaks in between classes. Dinkytown is the University of Minnesota’s student village, and just far enough from school to not be infested with law students.
Dinkytown is home to most of UMN’s Fraternities and Sororities, including Gamma Eta Gamma, the law school fraternity. I lived in Dinkytown during my first semester of law school and love passing by my old haunts.
The Kitty Kat club is where the Twilight lesbian parties were held:
Last night Joel and I went to the KS95 concert at the Varsity Theater. The concert’s headliners were Uncle Kracker and Colbie Cailatt.
Uncle Kracker’s performance was underwhelming. He just sat the entire time and had minimal crowd interaction. Colbie, whose name I can’t pronounce, was really pleasant to watch and listen to. She’s no Lady Gaga, Brit-Brit, or Beyonce…but she’s a little livelier than Nora Jones and a little less scandalous than Miley.
After the show, Joel and I went to Loring Pasta Bar for a little come-to-Jesus meeting, where Joel had Jesus lighting:
Which brings up a tangent I forgot to go on: the ridiculousness that is becoming “facebook official.”
Facebook official status seems like a casual, trivial thing, but it is actually like sending an engagement announcement to your 600 not-so-closest friends.
Then, after a few weeks or months (when the honeymoon heat fades) facebook-official status can create an awkward feeling of entrapment. Is the other person as serious as you are? Does someone want to break up? Is he a vampire? Are you willing to make that facebook change and take the aftermath?
It’s like calling off a wedding – no one ever believes that the bride and groom sat down calmly over coffee and mutually parted ways. No, everyone from your school dean to your mom will imagine some grand Revolutionary-Road style fight. There has to be screaming, shattered glass, a restraining order, a dead hamster… ie, drama.
None of that happened last night at the Pasta bar. It was more “Can you meet me half way?” than “Ring the Alarm” and there’s no break up or restraining order that I’m aware of. Now the hamster is another matter…