Testing, testing, 123

Wild One by Those Darlins

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Like any sizable life event, moving brings people together. I've had night after night of meaningful connections with old friends the last couple months. I've also had a handful of random idiots contact me with hope I will carve out time for them, time obviously already booked by my true friends.

More than once, I've gotten a text out of the blue from some a-hole I dated several summers before wanting to know if i have plans my last few weeks in town. Um, yeah...i'm kinda busy. (insert clubbed head followed by braindead stare)

I kinda wish there was a way to unsubscribe from old boyfriends, drunken phone number exchanges, and overbearing people met in bars. If i could just respond to them with a "Please take me off your list," it would sure come in handy. Being in the online marketing industry makes me all too familiar with CAN-SPAM policy.

That being said, if any of those randoms wants to help pack my moving truck in 100 degree weather and a possible thunder storm, feel free to gimme a ring. I'll wait to report you to the FTC until next week.

Will you marry me?

Making decisions is one of my all-time least favorite activities (up there with hangovers, eating salad, and dealing with Verizon tech support). The last several weeks have been uncomfy, to say the least.

The logistics of scraping up my life, stuffing it into a moving truck, and dumping it out in another time zone are overwhelming, expensive, and all-consuming. Fortunately, there is Tequila.

Tequila and I have always gotten along. We became BFF right away and have stayed close for going on 10 years now. It isn't just alcohol...it is warm and soft, like a blankie or the perfect head-sized indentation in a lover's shoulder. Clearly, I've been intimate with Tequila. I consider it a friend with benefits.

Tequila is a fickle, cliquish friend, however. I daresay it can be downright bitchy at times and has bullied many of my friends into submission. I feel sorry for these people.

When faced with monumental decisions, stress, and uncertainty, Tequila is a rock upon which one can perch safe from and untouched by reality. Like many of my close friends, it has a dynamic personality that keeps our relationship healthy.

For instance, this unique concoction of Tequila and avocado rocked my world. We spent a steamy afternoon together and I fell a little bit more in love. Tequila is always reinventing itself...that's why I like it so much.

I only require salt when taking shots of Tequila. However, this salt foam atop a perfectly-mixed classic margarita was subtle, understated, and refined. Tequila always accessorized impeccably. Like a man in a conservative suit with clever cuff links, I couldn't help myself...I wanted it, BAD.
This papaya margarita from my company picnic was syrupy sweet, cold, and delicious...for a while. After a brainfreeze and eventual need for a toothbrush, I became annoyed with Tequila and needed some time apart to be with my other friends, Whiskey and Gin. Don't worry though, we made up the next day.Thank you, Tequila, for being there for me during this move. You make making decisions the tiniest little bit less painful.

Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off by Joe Nichols

Moving too fast

One of my most difficult-to-hide-from-the-general-public personality defects is my inability to make decisions. I attribute this to my astrological sign. It's not my fault I was born a Libra.

Anyway, the other day, in preparation for my move, I attempted to purchase a car. My mom found it in Omaha and because I trust my mom's judgment completely, I considered buying it even without seeing it in person. The car looked beautiful in pictures and was exactly the type I wanted...small, red, hatchback, manual, low miles, ok price. My mom confirmed the car moved fast which unexpectedly kinda gave me a hard on. The salesman was also unexpectedly kind which calmed my nerves.

For three days, I was nearly consumed with this decision. I investigated every aspect...car reviews, insurance companies, car transport options, Kelly's Blue Book, loan managers. I knew this car inside and out. I decided to buy it! I would call the dealership first thing in the morning.

Naturally, the car had been purchased by someone else just 12 hours before I called.

In stunned disbelief, I thanked the man and sat quietly for a minute. I had been so proud of myself for finally feeling confident about a 60 month commitment. But, I also managed my disappointment by reminding myself that I, Rachael, cannot and will not make uninformed decisions. I cannot be rushed. When the time is right, I'll decide and not before.

This can be infuriating to my friends, lovers, and used car salesmen, I realize. But, like other things in life that moved too fast for me, stepping aside and letting them pass is, frankly, the only way I know how to react. Like other things in life, if it didn't work out, it must not have meant to be.

However, the next time a find a sporty little red rocket on wheels, I will wrestle anyone who tries to snatch it out from under me. I mean it.

Don't Wait Too Long by Madeleine Peyroux

I always feel the same...

I've always had a soft spot for the Lone Star state after spending my first year of college in Fort Worth. Also, I have an unexplainable attraction to men from Texas and I really like margaritas. If those aren't good enough reasons to pick up my life and plunk it down in Austin, I don't know what are.

I'm heading South (XSW) and bidding farewell to rats, douche bags, and a posse of amazing friends later this summer. I'm equal parts thrilled and terrified. Convincing my friends this was the correct decision was easy, for the most part. Austin is well-loved by most intelligent Americans and my clear penchant for all things Texas made my decision to move no surprise to most. There are a few stragglers that still need convincing however so here's a list of reasons why Austin is the best place ever.

1. Music.

2. More music.

3. Music everywhere, even in the airport.

4. Handsome, tall, polite men with accents.

5. Real estate is heaps cheaper in Austin than in DC.

6. My name will likely be changed to something like "Darlin'" or "Sugar."

7. Tex-mex pretty much is the best thing ever.

8. Warm weather and proper thunder storms.

9. There is a lake upon which i may be invited to float.

10. Did i mention handsome, charming men playing music?

Of course, there are other things like my job and my ever-growing aversion to life in DC (i.e. crappy apartment, horrible dating pool, etc.) that contributed to my decision. More on that later, i'm sure. Now all I need is a pair of boots (and NOT the Fluevog variety). Wish me luck!

I Can't See Texas From Here by George Strait

Not so incredibly terrible and awful

The other day I ran into my ex. It has been almost a year and we have not spoken or seen each other.

I was dreading this collision in epic proportions. I anticipated choking on whatever had just been put in my mouth, making an ungraceful run for the nearest exit, start shooting doubles, and then call my mom in a drunken, teary panic at 1am. It didn't turn out like that at all.

First, I was out with another man who might believe I was sent to Earth directly from heaven. He is forever reminding me that I'm kinda awesome and deserve to be treated as such. May the universe shower this man with good fortune and happiness.

Also, I looked pretty because I had been on date earlier. I'm not sure how much good karma i cashed in to make this happen but it was so worth it.

I was able to walk right up, say hello politely, and then high-tail it outta there with minimal psychological/liver damage.

Strangely, and most importantly, I didn't experience the icky stomach flop expected the first time i unexpectedly see someone that i used to love very much. I felt a little shaken, but mostly I felt nothing. And feeling nothing without trying to is hard to do. Trust me. I've been trying to feel nothing about this boy for a long time now. Mission accomplished, evidently. What a relief?!

Saying "hello" and ultimately "goodbye" can actually feel kinda like a breath of fresh air; like a decompression of the weight that can sit on your chest as long as you allow it. And that doesn't feel at all like nothing. It feels good...damn good.

So Long Sweet Misery by Brett Dennen

Sparkly Red Shoes

The last couple weeks have been ones of pretty extreme change. Not unexpected by any means, but disruptive nonetheless. Knowing a giant upheaval was coming down the pipeline, I prepared myself the only way I know how…with distractions and denial comparable to psychosis.

One of my dearest and longest-running friends moved to Sydney, Australia. We met each other at my very first job out of college. I’d been in DC not quite a month and was lonely, broke, and second-guessing my decision to move to the East Coast. She was also a gypsy new to town so we had lots in common…we had both lived in Australia, we both wanted to save the world (but were finding out it was much harder than expected), we shared a love of long lady chats, and, best of all, we shared a love of cocktails in dive bars. We became fast friends and have spent the last 6.5 years working our way through countless of life’s growing pains and celebrations.

I was so sorry to see her go in a selfish way, but also thrilled she was moving back to Sydney with a man of unparalleled fabulocity and heaps of hope, wisdom, and excitement. The prospect of spending the next summer without her gentle guidance is terrifying, to say the least. (In my personal staff of life teachers she represents sanity, thoughtfulness, and Cajun food…subjects I clearly have not yet mastered.) I foresee many melancholy nights ahead. But, I also foresee fabulous winter getaways in the southern hemisphere and the new benefit of cataloging her wise ways in carefully organized email folders, a thing I’ve always wished I could do with some of our in-person conversations. Email folder titles will be along the lines of: Inappropriate Things Exes Ask, Red Wine, White Wine, Things overheard in wine bars, Wombat Sightings, Music I should be appreciating, etc.

I cried on the phone with my mom for a long time the night she left. To make her exodus feel less traumatic, I planned a birthday party for my dog. This was convenient because it kept me very busy with things that didn’t really need to be done. Hooray!

So, now that I’ve learned to make proper cheesecake, destroyed my apartment and then cleaned it up again, and worked my way tediously through several bottles of champagne, I think I’m finally ready to wish The Shazzer the best of luck in her new home. Also, I hear that in Oz when things feel a little uncool, you just click your fab shoes together and say there’s no place like home. Evidently everything gets way better if you do that. I’ll miss ya girl!


Wish I by Jem