First of all, mad and endless props go to SGA, Loyola’s Student Government Association, especially sophomore Dom Proto, for organizing such a fun and much-needed stress-alleviating event. It was just a few weeks ago that my roommates and I were freaking out when we received the email telling us SGA was selling tickets to the show and seats on a bus down to Virginia for only $40 a pop. Not only did Meagan, Jen, and I decide to go, but I also invited one of my best friends from high school, Becky, to come for the concert and spend the night in my apartment. She’s studying film at George Mason University in
Fairfax, Va, and I haven’t seen her since earlier this summer!
So of course I was the one elected to wait in line at Student Activities the day tickets went on sale to buy them for the four of us. I’m glad I did because the event sold out in only 45 minutes!
Becky came to Loyola on Friday afternoon and we had a few hours to pass before it was time for the buses to depart, so we walked up Cold Spring Lane to the Evergreen Cafe. Afterwards we returned to the apartment, changed into our plaid flannel, and Meagan and I were more than eager to slip on our cowboy boots. Country concerts are one of the many things my roommate and I obsessively bond over (we’re going to see Eric Church in two weeks!!!).
The bus ride to Bristow may have taken a god-awful three and a half hours, but that was to be expected on a Friday at rush hour. No worries, though. Becky and I passed the time listening to her iPod together and showing each other pictures of our summers and the semester. By the time we reached Virginia, we were completely caught up on each others’ lives, a department we had been seriously lacking in. Oh yeah, and we took creepy pictures of Meagan and Jen sleeping across the aisle from us.
We made it to Jiffy Lube Live in plenty of time to get food and to scope out our spot on the lawn for Zac Brown Band, and I of course was religiously checking the score of game 5 in the American League Division Series (O’s, you are forever in my heart). Highlight of the night: When I filled some guys in on the score and runners on base as we waited in line for pizza and one says to me, “You’ll make someone a great wife one day by keeping up with the O’s scores like that. My wife would never do that.”
Once the concert started we were on our feet the entire time, singing along to our favorites like “Knee Deep,” “Toes,” and “Chicken Fried,” dancing, and making complete fools of ourselves. But hey, it was the perfect end to a week that was chock full of exams and a nasty head cold for me.
Everyone was complaining about the cold, but to be fair, SGA had warned us to dress in layers and it was the last concert of the year at Jiffy Lube Live, an outdoor venue. To me, though, the crispness of the air, the cloud of breath in front of my face when I spoke, and the brightness of clusters of stars overhead made for the perfect country concert atmosphere. A beautiful, cool, clear fall evening, good friends, and the best music. What more could a girl ask for?
I didn’t want the concert to end, partly because I wasn’t looking forward to the bus ride home, even though I wasn’t anticipating traffic at 11 o’clock at night on the Capital Beltway. LOL JK. Construction. Lovely. Not that it mattered much to me, because as it turned out, Becky’s shoulder is pretty comfortable, and so was the comforter we brought with us.
When I finally did wake up though, as we drove through the streets of Baltimore in our final descent to Loyola, my long legs were telling me that they were not made for three hour bus rides in crammed seats. Becky told me the next day that I woke up for a moment, looked at her, and said, “My legs … don’t have room to be legs. It’s like, if you own a greyhound and live in an apartment. The greyhound doesn’t have room to be a greyhound.” Then I fell back asleep. Leave it to me to be thinking about greyhounds … even when I’m half-conscious.