Mona Lisa and Madhatters

In a (failed) attempt to convince Mike of the gloriousness that is Minneapolis, eM-eN, I decided to take him for a grand tour of downtown this weekend. In retrospect, I should probably get a better sense of where the hell I am going when I come up with these ideas. We spent the majority of the first hour searching for something to eat, eventually settling on Subway (you can't get that in Madison!). The next hour was supposed to be dedicated to coming across the Stone Arch Bridge. A glimpse of the skyline from the bridge would surely clinch a new love affair with this city. Seeee, look how pretty! Plus, a walking bridge in the middle of a bustling metropolis? How surprisingly quaint!








Exhausted from the night before, we drove around aimlessly until I accidentally ended up in Dinkytown and was able to show him the progression of the new Gophers stadium. Safely in a corner of Minneapolis that I should know relatively well, I managed to stop paying attention for the very critical lane change that keeps you on 35W on the way home. Don't worry, I then was able to show him the glory that is Open Arms of Minnesota, a lovely non-profit in a not-so-lovely part of town. Not every day can you see a renovated firehouse only steps away from crack dealers and meth labs. The eventual ride home, which I did not eff up, was filled with a lot of "just don't make fun of me"s. I'm pretty sure he still thinks Minnesota is full of a bunch of weirdos strangely attached to a metropolitan area that offers little more than a Brothers and a food court Subway, but you can't win em all.

The real, true embarrassment of the weekend was when I had to go back to Dinkytown later that night and got off on the wrong exit. As in, an exit that was NOT opposite the exact entrance ramp I had taken earlier in the day. To his credit, Mike did not kick me out of the driver's seat and shun me to the trunk. I was patiently directed back to the freeway and the proper exit. On both his fourth visit to Minnesota, and the near twenty-three year anniversary of my being born in this great state. Awesome. And not embarrassing in the LEAST.