Jello, ladies and gents! And by "gents" I mean, my husband and my dad since I'm confident they're they only males that read my blog.
Another weekend has come and gone, and Monday depression has settled in nicely already making a nice little space for the Tuesday slump in my psyche. This past weekend marked out second year traveling to Atlanta for Music Midtown. Thanks to my brother in law for snagging us awesome VIP tickets so we didn't have to pay $13 for a beer.
The Friday night line-up included sets from Joan Jett, The Avett Brothers, and the headliner, Foo Fighters. We stopped at the W Midtown across the street for appetizers and drinks before heading to the shows. We made it to the park for the end of Avett Brothers and just in time for me to immediately drink a glass of Chardonnay and send my husband to wrangle up some chairs for all of us. My sister took full advantage of the fact that wine was free, and she wasn't 6 months pregnant at this year's show, and before I could blink, the Foo were fighting, and Brynn was on her 4th Chardonnay.
We both watched the Blake Lively wannabe in front of us unknowingly drop her glowsticks and wasted no time snatching them off the ground for ourselves. I decided mine would be a nice addition to my maxi-dress and Brynn decided it would be a nice prop for playing air drums on my boobs. It was not long before she had moved from playing air drums on me to playing air drums on everyone else that dared to stand near or walk by us. It was almost as entertaining as the band. TJ agreed. And if you don't know who TJ is, don't worry because I don't either.
Aside from an awesome show, I'd say one of the highlights of my evening was watching my sister give an unknowing Foo Fan a mind-blowing air drum up his leg followed by a high kick after he dared to turn to her and yell, "Rock and Roll!" Either that or watching her stick her glowstick in unsuspecting peoples drinks and then flick it in their faces. Yeah, she was totally that girl.
Not wanting to miss any of the fun, I tried to get in on the air drum action while my husband went to fetch more drinks. I jammed out just long enough to drop my glowstick and have it returned to me by the strange man I was using as my drum set. Instead of handing it back, he simply reached his hand down my dress and placed it in my cleavage. Insert disapproving look from husband who had returned from drink fetching {here}. And that was the end of that.
Just before the show ended, we befriended TJ and Ashley who had been enjoying not only the music, but the show my sister had been putting on. Within 5 minutes, we were all walking back to the hotel together, Brynn and Ashley were best friends, and I was listening to a conversation about how Ashley's parents had divorced when she was young, and blah blah blah. Not sure how, but we managed to make a 5 minute walk back to the hotel take 30 minutes, despite not stopping for a Greek gyro sandwich or a hotdog at any street vendors. That's talent.
Watching my sister make the trek across 14th street to the front of the W hotel doing high kicks the whole way across was definitely the cherry on top of my evening. A fun night clearly had by all.
When we got home, per the usual, my brothers and my husband stayed out on the back porch and drank more beer while the rest of us went to bed. The next morning was a perfect illustration of the difference between drinking when you're 30 and drinking when you're 24. My brother, the 24-year old, got up and lounged on the couch with everyone, had breakfast, and went on a run with me and my sister. My husband, the 30-year old, got up, pushed his breakfast around his plate, thought seriously about vomiting, and then did this until 11:30:
But don't worry, we got to do it all again on Saturday night for the second round of shows. Due to hangovers and exhaustion, we sadly did not make it up to Piedmont Park in time for Ludacris like we had hoped, but I was bound and determined to get our party moving in time for Florence + the Machine. She did not disappoint.
As if I wasn't totally and 100% aware of how deeply unhip I am, Pearl Jam took the stage for the headlining set of the evening. Mark my words when I say that there is nothing that will make you feel more out of place than finding yourself in a cotton sundress, jeweled flats, and a denim jacket in the middle of a Pearl Jam concert. Nothing.
Despite the constant reminders through the evening of how lame I am, I still had a great time along with everyone else. Our evening was capped off by a run through the Taco Bell drive through where the boys all ordered enough food to feed me for an entire day. If I wasn't sure before, I was definitely sure in this moment that I was, in fact, old as shit. Not only did I not order any Taco Bell, I remember thinking,
they really should not be consuming these calories so close to bed time.
Sunday morning was spent soaking up precious time with my nephews who I probably wont see again until Thanksgiving which makes me sick. Drew and I got hardcore with a Cars puzzle while Mason played with Grandpa Mike.
Almost as quick as we got to Atlanta, we were back on the road heading home. I may or may not have had a little too much fun with the Cat Effects app on my phone to pass time on the way home.
How was your weekend??
