Some of you may have noticed I haven’t been blogging about my love life lately. That’s because I actually have one right now, and I don’t want to mess it up! What can I say; I guess I’ve learned some lessons along the way, especially from my very first post about the doctor - although I still have no concrete evidence he even read it (for the record, he did know I was writing about our date). But, hey, at least I’m evolving.
Maybe it’s due to the whole turning-33 thing this weekend; it’s a dirty double number, in my opinion. After all, women hit their sexual peak in their thirties - or rather, dirties, as I’ve come to think of them. But there’s a flip side, too. I remember feeling bad for a girlfriend when she turned 33 a couple of years ago, because it sounded so old. And look at me now.
Once you pass 30, it seems inappropriate to send out Evites announcing a weekend of it’s-all-about-me activities. Shouting out your age and begging for attention loses some appeal when the numbers start climbing. (OK, so I just shouted out my age, but that’s more about healing than hollering.) My e-mail to friends this year said only that I was turning thirtysomething, and the humble celebration would consist of a pizza party at Piece. Good friends, family, pizza, and beer. What more does a girl need?
In the meantime, I’m not 33 yet. Tuesday night, I accepted my buddy’s invitation to join him at the Son Volt show at The Vic. He didn’t want to take a “real” date, so I told him I’d be his “pseudo-date”; you know, a platonic guy-girl outing. I’m never one to turn down a concert, especially at The Vic; with no obstructed sightlines, it’s a great venue for shorties like me.
Though I’m not really a Son Volt fan, I enjoyed the band’s set at the Taste of Randolph Street last summer. Frontman Jay Farrar, formerly of Uncle Tupelo, has the chops, but I found this week’s show to be pretty tame; I only caught my groove twice. Still, not a bad night - and definitely better than watching American Idol at home. We hit Marquee Lounge (1973 N. Halsted St.) afterward to meet up with another member of our band. I didn’t get home until about 1 a.m., which made waking up for work the next day a tad brutal. I guess being dirtysomething is finally taking its toll.
Celebrity Beat: Joseph R. Gannascoli, who played the infamous Vito Spatafore on The Sopranos, joined in on the weekly industry night festivities Tuesday at Stone Lotus. He and his entourage arrived via the backdoor VIP entrance around 12:30 a.m and stayed past the club’s 2 a.m. close, according to my spy. The Celebrity Fit Club star, who shed more than 32 pounds on the VH1 show, grabbed a Johnny Walker Black Label on the rocks at the VIP service bar and tossed back Maker’s Mark shots (we wonder how many calories were in those) with the staff before being seated at a table upstairs near the DJ booth. Gannascoli and friends were friendly to fellow Stone Lotus patrons, dancing and drinking Johnny Black all night.
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