Mississippi Studios (3939 N Mississippi Ave) and Voleur (111 SW Ash St)

If you've never been to Mississippi Studios to listen to music, you simply must go. It rocks. After winding our way through a rock-garden-backyard, past an Airstream trailer (all set up with tables and couches) and an old gas pump located conveniently on the tent-covered patio, we made our way into the old Mississippi Studios building to hear a few bands play on a Saturday night.

Our feet were touching the stage and we were within sweating distance when the lead singer shook his head. It was the Ian McFeron Band that we were there to see - a country-rock-alternative-folk-country band. Ian McFeron was hot (literally and also handsome) and the fiddle-player was straight out of my middle school, wearing black sneaker-type shoes, a green t-shirt and jeans with one of those cloth belts. She amazingly played the fiddle AND made inside-joke-eyes with the drummer and guitar player at the same time.

The background of the stage was covered in red curtains, making me feel as if I were there to see a show put on by the neighborhood kids on a stage in their garage that they made out of their mom's old drapes. [The picture above is from a show last year with Glen Phillips, but look at the cool curtains!]

After the show, we went out on the back patio and hung out in the garden, then in the Airstream trailer and eventually went and mingled with the band a bit, who were relaxing, drinking and listening to one particularly enthusiastic fan - "You guys used to play at Steven's? No way! I love Steven's. I can't believe they shut it down! You know the owner? No way! He is cool!" - and other variations of kissing rock star ass.

A restaurant attached to the studios is opening in a few months. I can't wait to check it out.

It was 11:45 and we were hungry, so we headed downtown to Voleur. It's wild downtown around 2nd and Ash at 12:00 on a Saturday night, in case you didn't know. I didn't know because I am usually in bed at that time. But I created another personality last night and got really excited to be in the midst of the craziness and the free-flowing intoxication wandering the streets.

At Voleur, we sat at a long table in the back by the door and sang along to a song that we all knew, but no one could identify for certain. Except Ansley did later on, but now I can't remember what it was. The waitress with pink hair came over and slapped her hands on the table. "Let's get to the important things: What are you drinking tonight?" Water. Water. Water. Diet Coke. "Ohhhhh! Wild tonight!" Diet Coke with Lemon AND Lime. "Whoa!" Water. She was laughing at us. I didn't mind. She made me laugh.

Hands down the best fries I have ever had at midnight. Handcut fries with Blackberry Habanero Ketchup. I shared a Pasilla Peppered Chicken Quesadilla, slathered in something green and spicy, sour cream and fresh salsa. It was seriously loaded with the cheesiest of melty cheese.

There's something about sitting in a restaurant late at night with friends and strangers, with a few people at the bar, a homeless man wandering in for a beer, a pink-haired waitress and Billy Joel singing Piano Man. Perfect ending.