I say this every single time I go to such an event, but shit, listening to writers read their work for an audience is always so refreshing. Paul and I were once talking about the places where we feel the most ourselves, and my pick was in a roomful of writers after a reading. I love talking to people, I love hearing their work, and I love that feeling that I get to go out and create. There’s nothing better than that, really, and probably no greater compliment a writer could get.

We went out for Emily’s capstone reading. The capstones have changed in the years since I graduated, and I’m totally jealous–ours was kind of a chapbook with one piece of everyone’s compiled, and now they all get their capstone manuscripts turned into a chapbook that they sell. It’s super cool.

Emily was great–she got emotional, but it was heavy shit. And she did a great job reading it, and I’m looking forward to adding her chapbook to my massive reading stack. All the other student writers, plus more established guests, were great, too. My former professor asked if I’d be back at all during the week, and if my day had panned out a little better (read: if I hadn’t worked late), I probably would’ve gone back out. If I didn’t live an hour away, I definitely would’ve gone back out, and if I didn’t have tickets to see Cher tomorrow night, I’d definitely be back for that. I’d be there all the time if I lived closer, honestly.

Paul and I kind of ran out the door to get there on time, so we were hungry when the readings all ended and went out with Emily and a couple of her friends to the one restaurant you can count on late in the evening, Taco Bell, then headed home.

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We’re currently under a tornado warning, so…that’s cool. A part of the country that almost never gets them. The sky is ominously black–this color is generally only seen in short, intense summer storms, and even then, it’s kind of rare. And just two or three hours ago, I commented on what a bright, warm day it turned into after morning rains. Figures.

Yesterday was Record Store Day, and not wanting Paul to miss his tai chi class or get dragged along for something he doesn’t really care about, I hit the record stores on my own. I strategized–I looked at the list of participating stores and figured Greensburg wouldn’t be as crowded as the Pittsburgh stores, so I decided to head that way, and then if I felt like it, hit Monroeville a half-hour away and then Pittsburgh on my way home, since I’d have to pass through the city anyway. It’s a very large, ambitious circle, but I was excited.

Turns out the two Greensburg stores were a bust–they weren’t actually participating. So I was annoyed at having wasted an hour. Had I known that, I probably would’ve just started in Monroeville, or even said fuck it and started in Pittsburgh. Monroeville is also annoying to drive in, strangely. There have been multiple occasions where we turn into the wrong plaza or parking lot and think, “Oh, it’s fine, they probably connect,” and they never do. And I don’t know if it’s because it was a nice day or because Steel City Con was going or what, but traffic was a bitch, too. Oh, and there was a shooting in the mall the night before.

So after some annoyances with unreliable GPS, those pesky not connected parking lots, and traffic, I made it to the one participating record store and did at least grab a couple of the things I wanted. Then I took myself to Panera Bread, got a chai, and finished it sitting in traffic coming back through Pittsburgh. I didn’t really feel like trying my luck in Pittsburgh, especially since I knew we’d be back for brunch this morning. I figured I’d just take my chances with it then.

Dom and Tina have been doing brunches all month long, but this is the first one we’ve been able to make it to. Last weekend, since we were going to the movies in the evening, we skipped it because it didn’t make sense to either drive out, back, then back out or drive out and dick around, and the weekend before that we were exhausted from a couple days of running errands and dog-sitting, plus Kelly and Brandon’s baby shower, and we agreed to meet up with Julie and Michael for coffee on their way home to Erie. We were glad to be able to go this weekend. It’s always delicious.

And with full stomachs, we hit the record stores on the South Side, and I redeemed my Record Store Day. First, Dave’s Music Mine, my favorite one in town, was mostly cleaned out of this year’s released but did have a good few from previous years, and I snagged a lot of Bowie releases and a little Cure, plus some CDs, including from some local bands. I try to keep up with a lot of them, but not as many places seem as dedicated to supporting the local scene. I was really, really happy to find a whole section to be able to grab albums from bands I’ve been streaming.

There’s one more store right down the road, and honestly, I think it gets overlooked by the Record Store Day crowds. But I came out with some of the popular and harder-to-find releases with the year’s Fleetwood Mac and Mumford & Sons releases.

When all was said and done, I spent a lot of money, but I was really happy. I haven’t actually gone out for a Record Store Day in a few years, maybe not since the year I spent it in State College. One year I was working that Saturday and didn’t want to bother with going afterwards, and last year, strangely, not many releases stood out to me. So I was glad to get back at it and come out with a lot of great stuff–almost everything on my wish list. There’s maybe only one I didn’t find, and that was the soundtrack to The Crow.

I love Record Store Day. I really do. It’s perfect for music nerds, and if my initial Saturday trip had gone better, I honestly would’ve loved having a day to myself drinking chai and buying music. I love it. I loved the trip today, too, with Paul coming along, but having some me-time in the form of tea and music is a pretty great way to go, especially when the whole point of the day is to help boost sales of indie record stores. And I can assure you, they all benefitted from me.

Then we got groceries, hit the gym, which felt great after a couple of weeks of inconsistency workout time, and now the day’s almost over already. So here’s to hoping my evening isn’t interrupted by a damn tornado.

Friday night, we stopped by my parents’ house, grabbing dinner at Fiesta Azteca on our way in. Mostly, I needed to squeeze in a time to finish up our taxes with my accountant mother, plus pick up doggy stairs she wasn’t using anymore to give to Terra, but we hung around for a bit, played with the dog, and had a chill evening. My dad’s doing well–definitely feeling better than he was last weekend, days post-chemo.

Saturday night, we met up with Katie and Jacob and cousin Chelsea for Emily’s show at school. Typically, they stick to plays–that’s all Paul and I have seen her in since she started college–but once every four years, they do a musical, and this year, sticking with a monster theme of the school year’s previous shows, they did Young Frankenstein.

And it was great. Paul and I have seen the musical before and knew it was a good time, but Katie said it’s probably her favorite musical now. I mean, you can’t really go wrong with Mel Brooks’ humor.

We went to Primanti’s for dinner after and had some drinks and good conversation before, as always, heading our separate ways and vowing to do it again soon.

And Sunday night, it was off to the movies with Terra and Jon to see Pet Sematary. Paul wasn’t crazy about going, not being a horror fan. He was also outnumbered, and if you’d paid attention to all four of us during the movie, you would’ve been able to tell which of us were horror fans. I cracked the occasional joke, Terra laughed, and the two of us plus Jon never really reacted to anything except children getting hit by trucks. Paul, on the other hand, spent much of the second half either closing his eyes or covering his ears or both.

The three of us also being the ones who had bother read the book and seen the first movie, we really liked it. We all found it to be an improvement over the original movie but still not as good as the book, and I’m debating exploring some of this in a separate post. I love that book and there’s so much good stuff in it that was cut out of both movies. I would love to see a faithful adaptation. I guess I would say one of my biggest complaints, though, is unnecessary jump scares early on. There’s not a whole hell of a lot of scary stuff in the beginning, and I get the sense that they threw in a few jump scares just for the sake of it because they felt like they couldn’t do nothing. And I guess that’s the problem with a lot of current horror–there’s an impulse to be constantly getting a reaction out of the audience, even when with source material like Pet Sematary, it’s more of a slow burn, and a really effective one at that. Now I’m rambling.

At that point, Terra and Jon had been gone all day, while Paul and I had only left the house for the first time. So they headed home to tend to the pets while Paul and I went for a late dinner at Bahama Breeze, because I love a gimmicky chain restaurant where I can eat pineapple and coconut on almost anything.

And now it’s back to the work week. Record Store Day is this weekend, so I’m trying to decide whether to go to Pittsburgh or Greensburg. I feel like the Pittsburgh stores are more likely to have the releases I want while the Greensburg stores are less likely to be crowded.

So on top of my dad starting his cancer treatments and staying in Philadelphia longer, leaving my brother and I to handle dog-sitting, my brother and his wife were having a baby shower the next day, and my mom had volunteered to take on the Pinterest-inspired baby carriage made out of a watermelon. With them getting in late Friday night, she had limited time to do it and asked that if we could, grab fruit. I intended to, but it became clear pretty quickly that I didn’t have time to both buy fruit and take it to the house before we went to the musical, so it made more sense to just go right to the house and let the dog out for a bit.

My parents got home, bought what they needed, and my mom was texting me while we were at Eat ‘N’ Park saying that she might need me to come over earlier in the morning to help her. But then when she was like, “I feel like I’m gonna have a breakdown,” I was like ah fuck it, I’ll just go over in the morning. Now, if we’d had this conversation a few hours prior, I would’ve just packed a bag and stayed overnight, but instead, Paul and I went home. Of course, of all nights, this was when I had trouble sleeping, and then we had to get up early and go. My plan was shower, get dressed, put some makeup on, and pack the rest with me to finish up later, and that plan, at least, pretty much worked.

We had to make a quick stop for a gift bag and some other things for the shower, and of course, my mom asked for fruit dip just after we’d already left and hit the road. I know of a pretty easy recipe for one, so we stopped at a Giant Eagle near my parents’ house, grabbed the ingredients, and by this time, it was starting to get late, so it was all hands on deck in the kitchen–Paul joked that he’s already used to being conscripted by his family for various things, so he had no problem being asked to do this and that and this. I threw my dip together, we mixed a fruit salad, my mom finished up the baby carriage, and we all got our faces put on and got in the car and were running quite late but not technically late to the shower…and yet some of the guests beat us there. Yoi.

The watermelon baby carriage turned out really cute, too. My mom seemed like she wasn’t so sure about it, but everyone loved it. My favorite part about it, though, is you make a little baby out of a grapefruit to put in it, with little blueberries for eyes and a pacifier, and since the baby is a girl, little bows on its head. So my mom assembled it, put the little blueberry eyes on and…one fell off onto the floor, where it was promptly eaten by the dog. She texted me while I was driving and Paul read it to me, and I laughed and laughed and laughed.

The shower was really nice and fun. I made a playlist I was quite proud of, even if only Brandon really gave a shit–I’m particularly proud of the fact that one of the first songs on it was Hall & Oates’ “You Make My Dreams,” which they played when they left the church at their wedding. I mean…is there a more appropriate kick-off to a baby shower playlist than the parents’ wedding song?

And of course, those of us waiting to be aunties (and grandparents) went overboard. I may say that gender roles are bullshit and mean it, but damn it if I didn’t go all-in on cute girlie clothes. We all did. It’s a good thing our gifts were pretty much the last ones opened, because they took forever. And then the other day, I bought even more shit, and I’m gonna keep on keepin’ on.

After the shower, we took a drive out to finally see Katie and Jacob’s new house, although it’s still a work in progress, albeit pretty minor. But it’s a nice house, and it’s exciting that we’re all at these points in our lives. At the shower, Katie mentioned how weird it was that my brother is having a kid, and then I pointed out that it was just about a year to the day of when we closed on our house. And Julie’s getting married next month and got her dress at my aunt’s shop, so on top of baby excitement, there’s excitement for yet another wedding just around the corner. And maybe the weirdest of all, I spent most of the shower sitting with all the siblings-in-law, the youngest of whom is now a teenager and was 8 when Paul and I started dating. And I kept thinking about how we were at his high-school musical. We’re, like, grownups. Weird.

When we got home, we crashed. I’d been running nonstop since Wednesday–out to get Seger, then back home Thursday, then back out Friday night, then back home for basically a few hours before spending a morning running errands and getting ready for the shower.

I declared Sunday would be a day of rest, but we did venture out briefly–with Julie and Michael in town, it made sense to hang out as much as possible before they went home to Erie, so we met up for coffee in town. It helps that we’re conveniently on the way back, situated right off the interstate. They’ll be back for Julie’s bridal shower in May. I’d love to squeeze in a trip up before that, but that’s probably unlikely. But hey, if we can swing one over the summer and enjoy Erie’s beaches and wine, great.

And just like that, we’re almost at the end of another work week. Paul got the cold I had last week, I’m mostly in a good gym routine, I caught up on laundry, finally, and we’re heading out with siblings and cousins at Emily’s show this weekend. At least it’s a little slower this week–my parents were traveling again, but nothing unexpected popped up and they’re already home. I’m sure Seger is grateful, although he does make for adorable doggy daycare Facebook posts.

Last week was chaos.

My parents went back out to Philadelphia to talk to more doctors about my dad’s cancer, and not wanting my brother and I to use up all of our vacation days dog-sitting, they sent him to a nearby doggie daycare.

(The place posts the doggies in their care to social media, so Seger had a couple of pretty adorable Facebook posts about him–some of him playing, a funny one about how displeased he looks post-bath. But my dad comments on just about every single one, and I think it’s the cutest thing.)

I can’t remember the details now, but they ended up extending their stay–it was to see a certain doctor, but at this point, they’ve seen so many people that I can’t remember exactly who or why. And they figured they might as well tackle his first chemo treatment while they were at it, which meant they had to stay even longer. So they checked to see if we could work out dog-sitting for Thursday and Friday. The plan we came up with was I’d take off Thursday and Brandon would come over that evening and dog-sit Friday, and I’d go over in the evening if needed. While squeezing in a trip to Paul’s youngest brother’s high-school musical that night, too, with Brandon and Kelly’s baby shower the next morning.

So I picked Seger up Wednesday night, and he was adorably excited to see me, jumping all over me even though he’s not supposed to. And then within about a minute of being in my car, he peed. Maybe he was mad. Maybe he just really had to pee. Maybe he decided my car smelled nothing like him and he had to do something about it.

But the evening was otherwise good–he’s a snuggly dog anyway, so he was right at my side the entire time I was over. We lounged Thursday, took a nice walk, and threw together a dinner and stuck around a little bit after Brandon showed up.

So…his instructions from me were that if he needed me to go back out Friday evening to get Seger to let me know. We were able to work our schedules out so that neither of us called off work, but Seger would be in his crate, and although he can handle a few hours, he’s not used to being in there during the day. But of course, they needed to set up for the baby shower, and I didn’t find this out until later, in the afternoon when I was in the middle of getting ready for the musical, thinking all was well. If he’d said something, I probably would’ve thrown some shit in a bag, played with Seger for a bit, then gotten ready for the musical and had Paul come out in a separate car–or even just told his sister Emily we had to bail, although I really didn’t want to do that. So as soon as Paul got in from work, we drove straight to my parents’ house, and when I took Seger out, I could tell by how little he peed that he’d probably peed in his crate, and we probably only just got there a tiny bit too late.

We didn’t have a lot of time, so I fed him–although he wasn’t super interested in that and hadn’t been since I’d picked him up the day before–and played with him, knowing he was gonna have to go back in his crate for just a little longer, maybe an hour or so. I hoped he’d get some fun in and the last little stretch wouldn’t be so bad, and it sounds like he did do okay. Brandon and Kelly popped back in sometime while we were at the musical, so he got the honor of cleaning up the crate pad proper since all I had time to do was pull it out and throw a clean one in, and then my parents were back.

As for the musical, they did Mamma Mia, which was an odd choice for a Catholic school, given the plot, but I had myself a good time. Paul was cringing at teenagers delivering some of the adult jokes, but I figured it wasn’t much different from what they probably say to each other every day, so I let myself enjoy it. I was also having a sweet one-woman dance party and lip sync. It’s a good thing no one was behind us.

Afterwards, we all went out for a late dinner at Eat ‘N’ Park–my in-laws included–and Paul and I got home in time to get a few hours of sleep before we got to face the chaos of prepping for a baby shower.

There are very, very few concerts I’ve been to where shit just didn’t go well, and even at that, even fewer where shit just didn’t go well to the point that it overshadows my memories of the actual show. Normally, maybe someone in the crowd is a dick or something and you move on and that’s it. But somehow, of the two times I’d seen Mumford & Sons in the past–who I adore–shit just marred the experience for me, and that’s hard to do.

The first time, I got tickets through a friend–more and more musicians are trying to find ways to shut out scalpers, but the problem is I have yet to see one that doesn’t inconvenience fans, too. So at the time, you had to sign up in advance for a lottery, and then if your name came up, you got the chance to buy tickets. I found it unfair, but the plan was a few of us would throw in and whoever came up first would buy tickets. So the friend who got them got lawn tickets. Now, I like to be as super fucking close as possible, except for bands I’ve seen a lot. But I get that not everyone is gonna throw down a few hundred bucks on tickets, so I was fine with it. Paul wasn’t going with me, maybe because he was still in school at the time, I can’t remember, so I was with friends and friends of friends, and this dude kept flirting with me and because I am a shy, awkward person, I just did not know how to handle it, and it threw the whole night off for me.

The second time, I was like, “Okay, I’ll redeem my Mumford experience.” This time, Paul did join me and I was the one buying tickets, so knowing I could easily find takers, I bought four. Terra and her brother were ultimately the ones who joined us, but finding the tickets a home proved harder than I expected. The show was in May, I believe the first show of the summer season at this outdoor venue, but it was an unusually cold day for that time of year, and it ended raining. Fortunately, our seats were under the pavilion, but just barely, so it was still cold and dicey. And then Paul was fresh off of his very first session with a new therapist trying a different, slightly more intense form of therapy, and so he was having a rough, depression-filled evening. I mostly remember him sitting there quiet for almost the whole thing, but he seems to remember more of the concert and was even recently talking about how they encored with a cover of “Wagon Wheel,” and honestly, if he’s more depressed in my memories than in his own, fine. I’d rather him look back on it as a good time than anything else.

So this time! This time I was really determined to redeem my Mumford experience. The setup was in the round and I bought floor tickets, bringing me closer to the band than ever before. I got excited. I took the day after off, the weather that day was not just the warmest, sunniest day that week but the warmest, sunniest day for probably the whole month of March, and damn it, this time, I was gonna have a great time with no hiccups.

I am pleased to report that I succeeded. Sure, there were hiccups, mostly in the form of the frustration that comes with floor tickets where people either lie about looking for their friends to cut in front of you or just straight up shove their way in front of you, but that happens at any show with general admission. The in-the-round setup was cool, and I think if they did it again, I’d consider getting seats, just to see how it looks from there. But it was a great concert and we had a great time.

And then I had a nice Friday at home, sleeping in and getting other shit done. And so if you’re keeping track, between that and dog-sitting earlier in the week, the only days I actually worked last week were Monday and Thursday.

We decided to have dinner at Mad Mex for our Friday night, I had my favorite tacos and a kiwi margarita, and we kicked off the weekend, because, you know, a girl who worked two days in a week really needed a break.

We had a nice weekend two-ish weeks ago full of adulting–first, a dinner date, mostly because I got my days mixed up and thought Tina was doing brunch and only realized it after I’d already showered and put make-up on. True romance. But then the next day, we did actually go to brunch.

Also, I always thought I didn’t like French toast, and it turns out I just didn’t like my dad’s French toast. Twice now I’e gone to a brunch and ordered French toast and loved it.

After brunch, we hit the home show in Pittsburgh. Even with Paul’s job situation up in the air, I would like to get something done on the house this year. The garden is a definite–that’s easy. But I’d like to do some sort of other improvement. Ideally, it would be siding, but that expense seems like a terrible idea to take on. So I’m settling for painting, hopefully. We got a bunch of information from different vendors, so once we have some time, I’d like to go through, get estimates, and hopefully get it done. If we can squeeze it, I’d also like to replace our hot-water heater with a tankless one, but that can wait if it has to. I’d rather paint first. I’m not a fan of the house’s color, and even if I were, it’s getting to the point where it clearly needs done anyway.

Then it was back to dog sitting for my parents. Brandon and I worked in shifts–he was able to stay over Sunday into Monday, so I went over Monday night, took Tuesday and Wednesday off, and stayed through Wednesday night. It was almost like a stay-cation, really. Two days of just lounging around and taking care of the dog. I left for a little bit on Tuesday to go to the gym and get takeout for dinner and took Seger for a nice, long walk around the neighborhood on Wednesday, but otherwise, that was it.

As far as my dad’s health goes, they went out to Philadephia to get a second opinion. Doctors there were a little more optimistic and they’re going to get a third opinion yet, then decide on where to actually have him treated. I’m sure we’re still in for a long, difficult year, but I think a second opinion combined with the time to accept it all has everyone feeling a little less grim and a little more…task-oriented? It’s shifted a bit, at least for me, to being very, “Well, this is just what’s happening and we’ll deal with it.”

February went by fast–it feels like I’d only just barely started my weekend rotation at work for the month, and now it’s over.

After that last Saturday, we did some shopping for my mom’s birthday–plus some for my soon-to-be niece–and had dinner at our favorite Italian place. Sunday, we went to our favorite coffee shop for the first time in a few weeks, and then with snow rolling in again, I packed a bag and spent another night at my parents’ house dogsitting while they were in Pittsburgh at an appointment for my dad.

This time, it was getting a port put in for chemo. It’s slowly becoming more real. The time between the diagnosis and now, at least for me, hasn’t been much different than usual, but we’re about to enter into actual treatment.

So I spent my Monday off with Seger. We watched Crazy Rich Asians, which I liked, and a few episodes of Preacher, and I got a little work done on my side hustles. When Seger got restless, as he does, I sat on the couch with him, and then we fell asleep until my parents got home.

In the wake of the announcement that Paul’s employer will be moving his site’s operations to Mexico, employees have been moving on at an impressive pace. As many coworkers do, everyone’s been going out for drinks to send someone off, and it’s nearly a weekly affair at this point. We went out for a couple of beers Friday night and the place was packed, so much so that we didn’t even bother trying to order dinner–we stayed for a couple drinks, then ate at the brewery in town, which has been tweaking their menu ever since they opened. It’s definitely a good thing, as the quality and variety both seem to have improved. I still say they have the best pizza in town, though.

The best part of the weekend, though, was seeing Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness Sunday night.

For starters, anytime I can see a musician twice in the span of the year is great–we last saw McMahon in a more acoustic set last April. This time, he was at Stage AE, a bigger, generally more mid-size rock-oriented venue–it’s where a lot of well-known acts play when they come through who aren’t, like, arena-sized acts.

I think sometimes, as someone who goes to several concerts a year, I forget how excited I can get. I still love going–it never gets old, no matter who I’m seeing, and if I miss out on one because of money or scheduling conflicts, I’m bummed. Like, short of major life troubles, missing a show in town is one of the biggest downers for me. But there’s a certain thrill that comes with seeing someone for the first time or from seeing someone you really, really love, whose music really resonates with you.

Maybe I underestimate just how much I love McMahon’s music. I don’t know. But I was pumped for this one, and I had a shit-eating grin on my face probably the whole time. I’d call part of it nostalgia, especially when he plays old Something Corporate songs, but I know myself well enough to know I’m not a particularly nostalgic person and that alone isn’t gonna get the reaction I had. I just really fucking love these songs. It’s not that they remind me of a certain time–well, they do, but it’s not that they’re sort of stuck in that mental space for me. It’s that I can still put on Something Corporate’s Leaving Through the Window or Jack’s Mannequin’s Everything in Transit and still feel a rush when my favorite songs play, still belt every word in the car, still say, “I love this song so fucking much,” to my husband, who does not have the history with these songs that I do, and mean it every bit as much as I would have if I were still 16 and listening to them in my CD player on the bus to school. That sounds like nostalgia, but really, it’s a love that has never faded.

So this show. It was great. One of the things I love about McMahon is the energy he has–I love watching musicians beat the shit out of their instruments, and I love the way he can hardly sit still at a piano and has multiple microphones to sing into because he’s constantly moving and could never be tethered to just one. He’s such a talented musician and songwriter, too. I mean…obviously.

Some of the coolest moments, though, involved the crowd in ways I haven’t seen many musicians do. For starters, at one point, he had the crowd pull blue fabric over their heads in the center to look like water, and he went down under and sang through the crowd–in fact, he sang from the pit more times than I’ve seen anyone do that’s not in a punk band. My favorite, though, seems to be a fan-initiated thing. When we were in line to get in, people were passing out these little colored circles of paper with instructions to hold them up to your phone’s flashlight during a song. True to form, my phone was dying–our power had gone out in the afternoon and we were stuck charging our phones in the car, but that’s a whole separate tale–but I watched others do it, and the effect was instead of your usual lights in the crowd that would be held high during a ballad, you saw a bunch of different-colored lights throughout the venue. It looked fucking amazing, and it needs to be a thing at every concert forever. There aren’t a whole hell of a lot of ways, at least outside of arenas, where people are getting creative and creating a really cool atmosphere, so to be at a show and see a few things I’m not seeing other people doing right now was great.

And McMahon seemed to speak really genuinely from the heart about the fan response in the city, too. I cannot wait for him to come back. My top five live acts is basically a revolving door as it is, but hot damn if Andrew McMahon isn’t sitting pretty there right now.

Unfortunately, we did duck out early, during the encore. As we were sitting up in the balcony, I was thinking back to the hot mess we had after The Struts, where my brother and I had dead cellphones and missed the last subway out of the city by minutes, and I’ll be damned if I was gonna go through that again. So I looked up the last one out, and we left around 15 minutes before it was due to show up. It’s the first time in my life I’ve ever left a concert early and I fucking hated it, but don’t ever say I don’t learn from my mistakes.

We have tickets to see The Struts again at the same place and also on another Sunday night, and I’m debating if it would be better to risk traffic and drive to that one. For bigger events, they’d run more trains, but rock shows apparently do not qualify.

But hey, we made it home without incident…except for the fact that the power was still out.

 

 

Saturday afternoon when I finished working, I put on plenty of glittery makeup and headed out to the annual Dancing Queen fundraiser Terra and her mom volunteer for and had a nice couple hours out with the usual crew for that–my mom, Aunt Elaine, and her friend Diane–dancing the night away. And then I came home and crashed for like 10 hours.

One of the things we’ve been meaning to do for the few years we’ve been living in this area now is check out our local symphony–or at least, check them out proper, as we do see them playing at the Whiskey Rebellion festival every summer. I happened to be scrolling through my phone and saw an ad for a performance on Sunday and sent it to Paul, who declared they were gonna be playing some of his favorite pieces, so we decided to go.

We had a really nice time. The symphony sounded fantastic, and we finished the evening up with Primanti’s. Because nothing goes together better than classical music and sandwiches with fries and coleslaw.

I slept in majorly again yesterday, too, which I needed, heading out only to go to the gym and run errands. I call that a successful day.