Friday: First Friday at MCA
Only in Chicago would it be considered hip to eat chicken wings and French fries in a museum on a Friday night. And God, they’re good French fries. Several STITCH staffers and a few fratty-types hop off the intercampus shuttle in their best sweater vests, hoping someone might mistake them for a master’s art student. Instead, they spend most of the night waiting in line at the cash bar. Shit, the bar closes at 9:30? Fucking Chicago.
Saturday: NU Intel Naked Launch Party
The number of hits NU Intel received this week is matched by the number of shots taken at this Oak St. launch-party-cum-shitshow. Sorority-types and ballsy freshmen permeate the celebration, a few guests shed their shirts, and all are encouraged to toast the editor-in-chief. The vodka tastes curiously like water, which works out better for some than others as the night goes on (we’ll stop there). Thanks for your hospitality, team.
Saturday: Theater Grad’s Andersonville Housewarming Party
Now we know why everyone moves out here after graduation. This apartment is fucking huge! And it has all the yuppie, stainless-steel fixings an unemployed NU liberal-arts alum could dream of. Theater and film students, past and present, play beer pong and fondly reminisce about working on the “Darling” set. Oh, memories of what was.
Saturday: Medill Senior’s Birthday Party at Ridge and Davis
A group of already-wasted Medilldos inappropriately crash the birthday of one of their classmates at 2 a.m., but she doesn’t seem to care: She’s in the living room dancing to Crystal Castles with a bottle of André Cold Duck in her hand, which she promptly offers to said party-crashers. Take note: This is how you host a party.
Saturday: Garnett’s In-House Progressive
Each successive floor of this three-story mansion on po-friendly Garnett looks like an afterthought—nothing matches and everything seems vaguely crooked, but oh, what a house! There’s a keg and beer pong on the first floor, mixed drinks and a pseudo dance-party on the second and shots and a dimly lit rooftop deck on the third. By 1:30 a.m., the keg is tapped and shots of tequila are going around as freshmen lament the shortage of Dole’s Strawberry Banana. Don’t worry, freshmen—those shots go down easy after the first, oh, three?
Saturday: Theta Does 21
Picture this: You’re standing at Orrington and Church, and looking up at Blu’s second-floor window, through a cascade of silver streamers and popping flashbulbs, you see a dozen good-looking people dancing to Rihanna. Leave it to a Theta social chair to throw a formal-class birthday party: A two-hour open bar, professional photographer, and hors d’oeuvres carted in from the downstairs raw bar. The clientele? Unexpectedly hot. The fratstars wore their finest button-downs, and what can we say about the Thetas? They look even better dressed up. Who threw down for the soiree? Two very kind parents, we hear.
