My man works in politics. And not just any politics...Texas politics. And in Texas, politics are a strange obsession, simultaneously fiercely serious and unadulterated good times. For instance, the other day when Texas legislature was tasked with passing the state budget (an ambitious and noble task even for a tiny, poor, boring state) I decided to swing by beau's office to see the process in action. I had heard that most public servants around here keep whiskey in their desk drawers which I can now confirm.
We had a nip and watched the budget discussion on television. Keep in mind that passing the budget in Texas is serious shit, not like DC budget pishposh at all. You simply cannot shut down the government of Texas and get away with it. Texan constituents carry guns. You've seen No Country For Old Men. They aren't effing around.
The best part was that these folks had been at it all day and were predicted to continue with their "policy making" well into the night. However, the man with the gavel attempting to maintain order was giggling like a Cheshire cat and swaying dangerously on his little podium. He was not young. I feared for his hips. It was 7:30pm.
Around 3:30 am, I am home, sound asleep where I belong. I get a text message from beau asking if I cared for a swim with him and some fellow political staff members proud of a hard day's work. I could tell from the typos in the text that the budget was alive and well on Planet Texas. I never pass on a chance for middle-of-the-night mischief and I find it hilarious to see official-looking people strip off their suits and ties and do cannon balls into a freezing pool in a drunken stupor. Apparently, making law in this state involves three simple things: copious quantities of alcohol, a concealed handgun license, and an understanding lover.
I look forward to the day the 82nd legislative session ends with an urgency comparable only to waiting in line for the port-a-potty at an outdoor music festival after 9 beers. It just cannot get here fast enough. But, I have to confess that the conversations I get to listen in on entertain me wholeheartedly and I oddly appreciated the devotion beau and his comrades have for the hypnotic gypsy woman they all lust after called Texas Politics. But, in May, I will absolutely not hesitate to steal that woman's mojo hands and send her on her way, not to return for another 2 years.
Medicine by Grace Potter and the Nocturnals
Friday, April 15, 2011
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Shockingly, I did manage to retain some information from SXSW Interactive. One interesting session I attended was how to choose and manage a successful team. I do not manage employees myself, but I've worked at an organization with absolutely no concept of team, teamwork, or management skills so I was intrigued.
One analogy that I particularly enjoyed was a spin on operating a motorcycle. Motorcycles, being fast, bouncy, windy deathtraps with no balance and terrible acoustics are typically of no interest to me. However, my Dad drives a Harley and I'm obligated to compliment it when I am in Nebraska. My Dad also likes analogies.
The presenter had taken the required riding course and used the instruction to "look not at what you might hit but instead where you wish to go." If you look at obstructions in the road, you will probably hit them. I guess that's how you avoid a head injury when driving motorcycles and be an effective manager. Charming.
It is easy to dwell on possible immediate threats instead of looking willfully to the distance. I actually used to be good at this but overdraft fees, 40 hours a week in a cube, and dating in Washington, DC beat it out of me. I look straight down or slightly to the side from now on personally. And you should too if you don't want to be a naively idealistic, chronically-unsatisfied doormat. I should give it another try though. Really, I should.
Along those lines (but mostly unrelated), I am moving in with a male later this week. It is equal parts terrifying and thrilling, shaken, then gently stirred, with a lovesick garnish. Luckily, he is truly amazing and he gets along with my dog. It is predicted to be the best thing in the history of cohabitation. If there was ever a time to look at where I want to be instead of what I might smack painfully into face-first, it is now. He doesn't have a motorcycle but he does have a truck so I think I'm safe.
Totally unrelated...there was an armadillo walking down the sidewalk outside my apartment on Friday. That is TEXAN!
http://notbeige.blogspot.com
One analogy that I particularly enjoyed was a spin on operating a motorcycle. Motorcycles, being fast, bouncy, windy deathtraps with no balance and terrible acoustics are typically of no interest to me. However, my Dad drives a Harley and I'm obligated to compliment it when I am in Nebraska. My Dad also likes analogies.
The presenter had taken the required riding course and used the instruction to "look not at what you might hit but instead where you wish to go." If you look at obstructions in the road, you will probably hit them. I guess that's how you avoid a head injury when driving motorcycles and be an effective manager. Charming.
It is easy to dwell on possible immediate threats instead of looking willfully to the distance. I actually used to be good at this but overdraft fees, 40 hours a week in a cube, and dating in Washington, DC beat it out of me. I look straight down or slightly to the side from now on personally. And you should too if you don't want to be a naively idealistic, chronically-unsatisfied doormat. I should give it another try though. Really, I should.
Along those lines (but mostly unrelated), I am moving in with a male later this week. It is equal parts terrifying and thrilling, shaken, then gently stirred, with a lovesick garnish. Luckily, he is truly amazing and he gets along with my dog. It is predicted to be the best thing in the history of cohabitation. If there was ever a time to look at where I want to be instead of what I might smack painfully into face-first, it is now. He doesn't have a motorcycle but he does have a truck so I think I'm safe.
Totally unrelated...there was an armadillo walking down the sidewalk outside my apartment on Friday. That is TEXAN!
http://notbeige.blogspot.com
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Guilty Filthy Soul
I survived my first SXSW in Austin with relatively minimal brain damage and only minor bodily harm. Just so I remember for next year, here are some tips for having a kickass SXSW and making it out alive (even making it to work the following Monday).
1. Plan to brave it alone.
Like traveling abroad, I was having trouble finding someone who shared both my enthusiasm for the event and a similar or complementary list of bands to see. In a moment of diva independence, I bought the wristband anyway. Muttering "Hell with it. I'll go by my damn self," I vowed to let music, not another person, be my guide. I'm not popular in this town yet and I figured it would help me befriend some like-minded music lovers at the very least.
2. Find someone to see music with.
As the event neared and the town started to fill up with scary-looking, dirty-haired folks who were all far too thin and being compressed into black jeans that would put even Kate Moss into a bad mood, I decided it best not to brave it alone. So, I found some amazing characters last-minute with which to share tabs, parking permits, and mutual awe of the fine tunage. Their company elevated my fun to levels almost too much for words. I am so grateful to have shared the chaos with them and look forward to the stories we'll recollect. (Future conversations with these folks will probably start with something like "Remember when we collapsed in a beanbag pile outside Lustre Pearl and drank free beer? Yeah, I hope that idiot who unplugged your cellphone has bad sex for life.")
3. Footwear is vital.
I'm used to teetering around on platform strappy sandles. Luckily, I'm not a moron. I knew I'd be walking to and from my home (about 3 miles round trip) and back and forth from downtown to East Austin several times a day (5-10 miles). I only made one tragic footwear decision: flip flops. My feet were relentlessly gashed and stomped. I limped home in regret. I never regretted paying that much for custom cowboy boots though and I still don't. Thank you Lucchese.
4. Don't party too hard.
I actually passed a deceased person on E. 6th outside a bar. The police had given up trying to revive him but cops on motorcycles don't carry sheets to cover the dead I guess. I wondered as I walked by how long the young man laid there being tripped over before someone actually checked to see if he was breathing. It was a sad reminder that certain mixtures of booze, drugs, and music can be lethal.
5. Party your ass off.
I started each day with a few hours of work and a coffee. (Aren't I a big girl?!) Next up, toxins. I wasn't necessarily trying to get fucked up. There is just something about strolling around downtown Austin in 80 degree weather in March listening to a thunderous level of music with a little buzz. Dancing like a loon and enjoying music (the good and the bad) just doesn't feel the same without a healthy dose of poison. Also, by the end of each day, my feet were aching and my eyes were drooping. I didn't go to bed before 3am for one full week. Red Bull, you are kind and brilliant for sponsoring SXSW.
6. Go with your gut.
Sure, I could have gone to Kayne, or Perez Hilton's party, or Deer Tick on the last night of SXSW. But instead I went to AWOLNATION, which ended up being the all-time best, most fun show of the whole week. It isn't my usual style of music at all. I like to call it Marilyn Manson Lite. But, I had this strange compulsion to be there, just kinda knowing it would be amazing. This band, along with the others in the showcase, rocked my tired, weary world. I was laughing out loud with delight. If i didn't think that wearing cowboy boots while crowd surfing was unethical you can bet I would have flung myself into a sea of drunken hipsters and scrawny teenagers without question. Also, my beau and I had the most amazing time hanging out with rockstars after the show. Never question those feelings that something strange and magical will happen at SXSW...if you let it happen, it surely will.
2011 Shows
Wednesday:
Brett Dennen
DeVotchKa
Flogging Molly
Random DJ next to The Hanger
Thursday:
The Strokes
T Bird and the Breaks
Friday:
Dickies Party at Lustre Pearl
Black Joe Lewis & the Honeybears
Hayes Carll
Ryan Bingham
Robert Earl Keen
Lucinda Williams
Party at Malverde
Party at ??? (long day)
Saturday:
Filter Party at Cedar Door Courtyard
Electric Touch
Tres Mts.
AWOLNATION
Panic! At the Disco
The Bravery
Burn It Down by AWOLNATION
1. Plan to brave it alone.
Like traveling abroad, I was having trouble finding someone who shared both my enthusiasm for the event and a similar or complementary list of bands to see. In a moment of diva independence, I bought the wristband anyway. Muttering "Hell with it. I'll go by my damn self," I vowed to let music, not another person, be my guide. I'm not popular in this town yet and I figured it would help me befriend some like-minded music lovers at the very least.
2. Find someone to see music with.
As the event neared and the town started to fill up with scary-looking, dirty-haired folks who were all far too thin and being compressed into black jeans that would put even Kate Moss into a bad mood, I decided it best not to brave it alone. So, I found some amazing characters last-minute with which to share tabs, parking permits, and mutual awe of the fine tunage. Their company elevated my fun to levels almost too much for words. I am so grateful to have shared the chaos with them and look forward to the stories we'll recollect. (Future conversations with these folks will probably start with something like "Remember when we collapsed in a beanbag pile outside Lustre Pearl and drank free beer? Yeah, I hope that idiot who unplugged your cellphone has bad sex for life.")
3. Footwear is vital.
I'm used to teetering around on platform strappy sandles. Luckily, I'm not a moron. I knew I'd be walking to and from my home (about 3 miles round trip) and back and forth from downtown to East Austin several times a day (5-10 miles). I only made one tragic footwear decision: flip flops. My feet were relentlessly gashed and stomped. I limped home in regret. I never regretted paying that much for custom cowboy boots though and I still don't. Thank you Lucchese.
4. Don't party too hard.
I actually passed a deceased person on E. 6th outside a bar. The police had given up trying to revive him but cops on motorcycles don't carry sheets to cover the dead I guess. I wondered as I walked by how long the young man laid there being tripped over before someone actually checked to see if he was breathing. It was a sad reminder that certain mixtures of booze, drugs, and music can be lethal.
5. Party your ass off.
I started each day with a few hours of work and a coffee. (Aren't I a big girl?!) Next up, toxins. I wasn't necessarily trying to get fucked up. There is just something about strolling around downtown Austin in 80 degree weather in March listening to a thunderous level of music with a little buzz. Dancing like a loon and enjoying music (the good and the bad) just doesn't feel the same without a healthy dose of poison. Also, by the end of each day, my feet were aching and my eyes were drooping. I didn't go to bed before 3am for one full week. Red Bull, you are kind and brilliant for sponsoring SXSW.
6. Go with your gut.
Sure, I could have gone to Kayne, or Perez Hilton's party, or Deer Tick on the last night of SXSW. But instead I went to AWOLNATION, which ended up being the all-time best, most fun show of the whole week. It isn't my usual style of music at all. I like to call it Marilyn Manson Lite. But, I had this strange compulsion to be there, just kinda knowing it would be amazing. This band, along with the others in the showcase, rocked my tired, weary world. I was laughing out loud with delight. If i didn't think that wearing cowboy boots while crowd surfing was unethical you can bet I would have flung myself into a sea of drunken hipsters and scrawny teenagers without question. Also, my beau and I had the most amazing time hanging out with rockstars after the show. Never question those feelings that something strange and magical will happen at SXSW...if you let it happen, it surely will.
2011 Shows
Wednesday:
Brett Dennen
DeVotchKa
Flogging Molly
Random DJ next to The Hanger
Thursday:
The Strokes
T Bird and the Breaks
Friday:
Dickies Party at Lustre Pearl
Black Joe Lewis & the Honeybears
Hayes Carll
Ryan Bingham
Robert Earl Keen
Lucinda Williams
Party at Malverde
Party at ??? (long day)
Saturday:
Filter Party at Cedar Door Courtyard
Electric Touch
Tres Mts.
AWOLNATION
Panic! At the Disco
The Bravery
Burn It Down by AWOLNATION
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
A Man and His Fish
Planet Texas Moment #587:
Took myself on a long, exploratory walk last night down one of my favorite streets in my hood, South 1st. It is a colorful street with tiny, random shops covering an array of niche commerce from cupcakes to used neon signs. The weather was superb and I haven't donned tennies since sometime last Fall. It was time.
Best part of the night was a new friendship I made with the proprietor of a hookah shop and smoking lounge. Here's a summary of the conversation...
Dude: You should totally meet my fish.
Me: Um... [eyebrow raised]
Dude: [knocking on fish tank glass] C'mon out and meet someone!
Me: Um... [wondering why the trippy music is so loud when no one else is here]
Dude: Here-e comes! Isn't he great?! He's kinda like a puppy. The kids love 'im.
Me: ...
This was, no joke, the happiest fish in history. He was a 3 foot long, obese, whiskered eel-like creature who was, as far as I could see, wiggling with delight at the sight of his owner and smiling like a Cheshire cat. I mean, this fish was literally doing the Olive "full body wag." He was equally thrilled to see me, after he was scolded for not greeting the guest. I've never quite seen anything like it.
Thanks Redline Hookah for keeping Austin (and rest of this planet) weird.
Took myself on a long, exploratory walk last night down one of my favorite streets in my hood, South 1st. It is a colorful street with tiny, random shops covering an array of niche commerce from cupcakes to used neon signs. The weather was superb and I haven't donned tennies since sometime last Fall. It was time.
Best part of the night was a new friendship I made with the proprietor of a hookah shop and smoking lounge. Here's a summary of the conversation...
Dude: You should totally meet my fish.
Me: Um... [eyebrow raised]
Dude: [knocking on fish tank glass] C'mon out and meet someone!
Me: Um... [wondering why the trippy music is so loud when no one else is here]
Dude: Here-e comes! Isn't he great?! He's kinda like a puppy. The kids love 'im.
Me: ...
This was, no joke, the happiest fish in history. He was a 3 foot long, obese, whiskered eel-like creature who was, as far as I could see, wiggling with delight at the sight of his owner and smiling like a Cheshire cat. I mean, this fish was literally doing the Olive "full body wag." He was equally thrilled to see me, after he was scolded for not greeting the guest. I've never quite seen anything like it.
Thanks Redline Hookah for keeping Austin (and rest of this planet) weird.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
The Next Place...and the next
I've always feared that my colleagues would discover that I'm a bit of a loon. I usually try to keep my new agey behaviors to myself, even hidden from my closest friends. Only my mom, who is biologically obligated to love me anyway, really knows about the quirky beliefs and rituals I've incorporated into my weird little life.
Now that I've moved to Austin and have to show up in an office every day to be seen by my co-workers and boss, my hippie ways are harder to hide. I did retire my desktop aromatherapy kit in exchange for a subtle bottle of pressure point cream. But, my Inner Peace Cards remain right there, front and center, for all to see, right next to the Creative Whack Pack and lava lamp.
Today's card I love...
(paraphrased...you'd gag otherwise) Each experience up to now was necessary to get me to this very moment. I wouldn't be in this desk chair, staring at PowerPoint slides, waiting rather impatiently for Friday, if it hadn't been for 30 years of other moments, good and bad.
I dig that kinda. And it kinda fits in to this whole New Years hoopla. So, New Years resolution declaration: Try to have as many useful, positive, thrilling, transformative moments as possible in 2011 so that each next moment is made that much better.
Ok, and do more Om breaths. *wink*
Now that I've moved to Austin and have to show up in an office every day to be seen by my co-workers and boss, my hippie ways are harder to hide. I did retire my desktop aromatherapy kit in exchange for a subtle bottle of pressure point cream. But, my Inner Peace Cards remain right there, front and center, for all to see, right next to the Creative Whack Pack and lava lamp.
Today's card I love...
(paraphrased...you'd gag otherwise) Each experience up to now was necessary to get me to this very moment. I wouldn't be in this desk chair, staring at PowerPoint slides, waiting rather impatiently for Friday, if it hadn't been for 30 years of other moments, good and bad.
I dig that kinda. And it kinda fits in to this whole New Years hoopla. So, New Years resolution declaration: Try to have as many useful, positive, thrilling, transformative moments as possible in 2011 so that each next moment is made that much better.
Ok, and do more Om breaths. *wink*
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Nighttime's Wooly Blanket
Last night was a lunar eclipse on the winter solstice. I hear this combination doesn't happen very often. I usually don't need much persuading to stay up all night drinking on a weekday so this excuse was particularly validating.
Because I have moved to paradise where 65 degrees on Dec 20 is only a little atypical, I sat outside on the sidewalk with Olive and some friends looking at the bright moon through the ancient tree branches at my apartment complex wearing flip flops and a smile. It was the perfect night for lunar gazing.
We made plans to move rooftop for some live musical eclipse accompaniment. The night had every potential for epic fabulocity. Naturally, as soon as we got there, the creepy warm temperatures blew in a foggy cloud cover from the lake that completely obscured even the outline of the moon. Even my will to cocktail suffered.
Luckily, my company was amazing (as usual) and a late-night Whataburger taquito resolved any disappointment. It was way cooler to lay in bed this morning and look at all the fab photos of the eclipse on my phone anyway.
Also, because I finally finished Awesome Wedding Mix 2010 (which, if i do say so myself, is so good I might even get some), I thought this favorite track was especially pertinent.
And now off to frozen Nebraska where I will most certainly stay "wrapped up like a child who has been in the rain too long" the entire time.
Just Like the Moon by Brett Dennen
Because I have moved to paradise where 65 degrees on Dec 20 is only a little atypical, I sat outside on the sidewalk with Olive and some friends looking at the bright moon through the ancient tree branches at my apartment complex wearing flip flops and a smile. It was the perfect night for lunar gazing.
We made plans to move rooftop for some live musical eclipse accompaniment. The night had every potential for epic fabulocity. Naturally, as soon as we got there, the creepy warm temperatures blew in a foggy cloud cover from the lake that completely obscured even the outline of the moon. Even my will to cocktail suffered.
Luckily, my company was amazing (as usual) and a late-night Whataburger taquito resolved any disappointment. It was way cooler to lay in bed this morning and look at all the fab photos of the eclipse on my phone anyway.
Also, because I finally finished Awesome Wedding Mix 2010 (which, if i do say so myself, is so good I might even get some), I thought this favorite track was especially pertinent.
And now off to frozen Nebraska where I will most certainly stay "wrapped up like a child who has been in the rain too long" the entire time.
Just Like the Moon by Brett Dennen
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Making every possible mistake
My mum is an expert at giving me gifts. I suppose it has something to do with me being a clone of her, which makes gift giving infinitely easier. This year, she got me a psychic reading for my birthday. She went with since it is no fun to talk about your destiny by yourself, obviously.
I told this man nothing. Not a single thing about where I live, who I am, or what I wanted to know about. I could tell he was disappointed to have nothing to work with. But, i thought it would add to his credibility or lack thereof after the the fact so i kept my lips sealed.
Turns out, i'm not all that bad off. Saturn has flown the coop which means things should start looking up (though I can expect another rough patch around age 50...dammit!) I can expect to meet my life partner on a sidewalk outside a restaurant or bar...shouldn't be a problem as I do that sort of thing almost daily. Timestamp hazy, however.
Two things of note:
1. I am a psychological gypsy with a boredom problem who violently changes direction in life, sometimes without notice. This came as no surprise to me. Here's the cool part... We all have spirit guides that help us navigate the tricky waters of life. They don't always help you do the right thing, but they look after you lest you totally botch up your whole existence. Usually you get yours early on and they are yours to keep for life. I mean, they invest in you and stay by your side like a German Shepard or an STD that can't be treated with antibiotics. Not mine. Because I change everything up so completely every now and again, I require different spirit guides at different times. I chuck mine and get new ones with all my different life stages. This is quite unusual, according to Mr. Psychic. Right now, I'm stuck with Arthur, a pony-tailed intellectual, who "helps" me over-analyze and question things. Thanks dude, you're coming in really fucking handy. Poo!
2. You've met those people who just exude wisdom and experience, even at a young age. They have that look that says they've seen things others haven't and know things others don't. When they look dazed, it doesn't come off as lost and confused. It looks contemplative. I am not one of those people. I am a new soul. Lacking in wisdom, sophistication, and patience, I am attempting to take this universe by storm and cram in several lifetimes during my Earthly stay. I imagine the psychic was trying to come up with an inoffensive way of saying soul-wise, I'm a bratty teenage idiot who thinks they know everything. Luckily, I have the motivation to get it all done in a hurry so that i'm an old soul faster than other baby-souls. It isn't a competition or anything...I just want to know it all as soon as possible so I'm devouring experiences like Ms. PacMan. Hooray!
I have to say, I was impressed by the psychic's expertise. Still not sure i believe he could see my future but if he could get all that from a handshake, a wrinkled t-shirt, cowboy boots, and a hangover, he's doing pretty well in my book.
New Soul by Yael Naïm
I told this man nothing. Not a single thing about where I live, who I am, or what I wanted to know about. I could tell he was disappointed to have nothing to work with. But, i thought it would add to his credibility or lack thereof after the the fact so i kept my lips sealed.
Turns out, i'm not all that bad off. Saturn has flown the coop which means things should start looking up (though I can expect another rough patch around age 50...dammit!) I can expect to meet my life partner on a sidewalk outside a restaurant or bar...shouldn't be a problem as I do that sort of thing almost daily. Timestamp hazy, however.
Two things of note:
1. I am a psychological gypsy with a boredom problem who violently changes direction in life, sometimes without notice. This came as no surprise to me. Here's the cool part... We all have spirit guides that help us navigate the tricky waters of life. They don't always help you do the right thing, but they look after you lest you totally botch up your whole existence. Usually you get yours early on and they are yours to keep for life. I mean, they invest in you and stay by your side like a German Shepard or an STD that can't be treated with antibiotics. Not mine. Because I change everything up so completely every now and again, I require different spirit guides at different times. I chuck mine and get new ones with all my different life stages. This is quite unusual, according to Mr. Psychic. Right now, I'm stuck with Arthur, a pony-tailed intellectual, who "helps" me over-analyze and question things. Thanks dude, you're coming in really fucking handy. Poo!
2. You've met those people who just exude wisdom and experience, even at a young age. They have that look that says they've seen things others haven't and know things others don't. When they look dazed, it doesn't come off as lost and confused. It looks contemplative. I am not one of those people. I am a new soul. Lacking in wisdom, sophistication, and patience, I am attempting to take this universe by storm and cram in several lifetimes during my Earthly stay. I imagine the psychic was trying to come up with an inoffensive way of saying soul-wise, I'm a bratty teenage idiot who thinks they know everything. Luckily, I have the motivation to get it all done in a hurry so that i'm an old soul faster than other baby-souls. It isn't a competition or anything...I just want to know it all as soon as possible so I'm devouring experiences like Ms. PacMan. Hooray!
I have to say, I was impressed by the psychic's expertise. Still not sure i believe he could see my future but if he could get all that from a handshake, a wrinkled t-shirt, cowboy boots, and a hangover, he's doing pretty well in my book.
New Soul by Yael Naïm
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