My First First Friday!

This week, when I was trying to think what I was going to do with my Friday afternoon, several things come to my mind.

One - it's impossible for me not to hear "Friday! Friday! Gotta get down on Friday!" somewhere in the back of my mind. Thank you, Rebecca Black, for scarring us for life. Julia literally had to pray that the Lord would remove it from her mind. That's pretty bad.

Two - PIONEEEEEERRRSSZZS! oh wait... it's the summer now... which means that I can go to...

Three - First Friday!

First Friday is one night out of the month that downtown Bryan rolls out the horse drawn carriage, puts its local art and music on display, and tries to convince you that you are artsy yourself. Basically, it's my dream come true.
First we started out with a great dinner with even greater friends honoring the lovely Angela for her birthday.
Birthday girl!!
Then I peaced out to check out the town with my friends Abby and Katherine.

Carriage rides!!!! 
Mariachi band on break... why must EVERYONE text?
A list of Polish surnames? Can this place get any better??!?! 
A giant dollhouse. Inhabited by clowns. Perfect.

One of the neatest things about downtown Bryan is the restoration projects that have been going on for quite some time now. The most recent one is for the Queen Theater.
They were selling shirts and showing off part one of the restoration project, the crown.

They have started a blog on the restoration project.

Hopefully it doesn't turn out like the Shack. Anyone who's lived in College Station before 2009 probably know what I'm talking about. It was this totally awesome, shady, boxy house on the corner of George Bush and Fairview. Now it's a khaki box with a blubonnet poster slapped on the side. Bleh.

Lucky for you, Google did a little quality control in its image department. Google Maps is still rocking the real deal:

That's quality college-town-stuff-of-legend-ness right there (and a very useful landmark for directing your lost friends).

Here's to hoping that the Queen doesn't end up inhabitable to the point of boring like the shack did.

Let's play two truths and a lie about the Shack:

  1. The place is haunted by a college student who lived there in 1984.
  2. Whoever gets kissed in the Shack doesn't have to do chores for three weeks. 
  3. An old man who sells drugs lives upstairs and traps college kids in the house to kill them.

You're right. Those are all urban legends---legends we can't tell anymore because the place is respectable.

What a shame.

On that note,


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