As another birthday draws near, I'm doing my usual self-assessment. I like to take stock annually and then decide what gets to stay and what gets the boot. I also make resolutions. I much prefer b-days to the end of the calendar year for making resolutions. For one, no one gives a shit about your resolutions if you make them at the same time as everyone else because everyone is too busy with their own. I usually require assistance with change and therefore get much better participation rates if I choose an off day. Also, there is something about "10 Four!" that sounds official, like I actually better try to complete the tasks or be made to do push ups.
I avoid push ups at all cost.
A few weeks ago I came across a phrase that resonated: the other side of someday. I think it is a lyric. I like it because I'm often guilty of living/wallowing in futuristic hypotheticals and sometimes need to be reminded to enjoy and live the present. This year, when I performed the birthday metaphorical MRI, I was relieved to find out I that I may indeed be on the other side of someday. I'm very near or exactly where I want to be. For once.
I chatted with my mom a few years ago about the two paths folks can take in life. The first is the marriage/kids/house path. The other is the wild/unexpected/free path. My mom and I agreed that you simply cannot have both simultaneously. You have to choose. You can do it all but you have to do just one at a time or you risk pulling yourself too thin and generally doing a lousy job at both. At the time, I was whining to my mom about how all the friends my age had houses and boats and diamond rings. I had a metro pass, a lame-ass boyfriend, and a shih tzu. I had walked away from all the forks in the road for the marriage/kids/house route. I wondered if I had made the wrong choice. She reminded me that I had lived in some amazing places and seen some amazing things. I had lots to show for my life, she insisted. Bless her.
I'm so glad now that i chose the wild path. I won't doubt it again. I may not have the burden of property or stretch marks or a divorce lawyer at age 31, but, dammit, I have other things. I've got a kick ass man, a pretty cool job, low debt, few wrinkles, and no regret. As far as birthday wishes go, anything I think of will probably seem wildly overzealous since I already have everything that I want. I'll still ask to win the lottery of course. Global peace and harmony is just futile really.
Birthday debauchery has already begun with a champagne limo ride to Miranda Lambert and the Pistol Annies. If that isn't the other side of someday, I don't know what is. Getting old is pretty damn fabulous!
Monday, October 3, 2011
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Kind of like being hit by a bus...only way more awesome
In honor of the 10th anniversary of the legendary Austin City Limits Music Festival (and because my lust for music is rapid and insatiable), I couldn't resist expressing some gratitude. Also, I can hardly sit still with all the excitement for my 3rd festival. Work is an irritating distraction.
My appetite for music is hereditary, given to me by equal parts crazy rockin' mama and dance floor karaoke extraordinaire pops. I cannot imagine a time in my life music wasn't playing. Even as an infant I was lulled to sleep by Aerosmith and George Straight. My new life in Austin has indulged my craving for tunes and I may be forever hooked on the unending, unspeakably amazing music that passes through this town.
I was talking to a friend and fellow music lover about those moments watching live music where one is simply stunned into blissful silence, unable to move, talk, or hear anything but the music. Afterward, that moment is permanently and vividly tattooed into memory. The song's meaning is forever changed and you cannot listen to it without being transported back. You're the same age, doing the same thing with the same people in an instant when you hear that song.
I was thrilled to know someone else had those moments and I was even more tickled that some of those moments AK and I had had together. Not necessarily together together. But, at the same time on our own at the same shows. These are private moments, you see. But it is wonderful to know that the person standing next to you at the concert had felt the same. I was almost getting choked up talking about it. I strongly recommend these brief jolts of harmony to everyone...if you haven't had one, you haven't lived.
Also, when I thought about it, a number of mine have indeed happened at the ACL Festival. I don't always even LOVE the song, but feeling was powerful. Here are some of my favorites (actual recordings from ACL):
Everybody Knows, John Legend, 2009 (This was worth not finding my friends again for the rest of the day.)
Paris, Grace Potter and the Nocturnals, 2010 (she had people in line at 11am wondering where the hell she had been their whole life)
Sweet Disposition, The Temper Trap, 2010 (this song drifted beautifully across the whole park...everyone stopped to listen even if you'd never heard the song before)
Home, Edward Sharpe, 2010 (i pretty much stood in stunned silence this whole show but this song was one of the best...tied with 40 Day Dream)
Uprising, Muse, 2010 (his guitar playing was ethereal)
And Phoenix. And Kings of Leon. And Andrew Bird. And Ryan Bingham, Bassnectar, Carolyn Wonderland... And that's only 2 year's worth.
My appetite for music is hereditary, given to me by equal parts crazy rockin' mama and dance floor karaoke extraordinaire pops. I cannot imagine a time in my life music wasn't playing. Even as an infant I was lulled to sleep by Aerosmith and George Straight. My new life in Austin has indulged my craving for tunes and I may be forever hooked on the unending, unspeakably amazing music that passes through this town.
I was talking to a friend and fellow music lover about those moments watching live music where one is simply stunned into blissful silence, unable to move, talk, or hear anything but the music. Afterward, that moment is permanently and vividly tattooed into memory. The song's meaning is forever changed and you cannot listen to it without being transported back. You're the same age, doing the same thing with the same people in an instant when you hear that song.
I was thrilled to know someone else had those moments and I was even more tickled that some of those moments AK and I had had together. Not necessarily together together. But, at the same time on our own at the same shows. These are private moments, you see. But it is wonderful to know that the person standing next to you at the concert had felt the same. I was almost getting choked up talking about it. I strongly recommend these brief jolts of harmony to everyone...if you haven't had one, you haven't lived.
Also, when I thought about it, a number of mine have indeed happened at the ACL Festival. I don't always even LOVE the song, but feeling was powerful. Here are some of my favorites (actual recordings from ACL):
Everybody Knows, John Legend, 2009 (This was worth not finding my friends again for the rest of the day.)
Paris, Grace Potter and the Nocturnals, 2010 (she had people in line at 11am wondering where the hell she had been their whole life)
Sweet Disposition, The Temper Trap, 2010 (this song drifted beautifully across the whole park...everyone stopped to listen even if you'd never heard the song before)
Home, Edward Sharpe, 2010 (i pretty much stood in stunned silence this whole show but this song was one of the best...tied with 40 Day Dream)
Uprising, Muse, 2010 (his guitar playing was ethereal)
And Phoenix. And Kings of Leon. And Andrew Bird. And Ryan Bingham, Bassnectar, Carolyn Wonderland... And that's only 2 year's worth.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Between work and hurt and whiskey
On this day one year ago, I ate Chinese take-out from one of my favorite places in DC and then closed the door on the most important chapter of my life so far to begin a new adventure in Texas. I cried on the way to the airport as I watched my beautiful city go past, knowing it wasn't my city anymore. And then I cried most of the flight. And then I cried some more. Saying goodbye to my most precious and long-time friends, friends that had pretty much become my family, was one of the most terrifying and sad moments I've had.
I've thought about that day almost every day since with varied emotion. I'm overwhelmingly lonely at times but also grateful that I was able to shed the stale life I was living in DC for something new and different. I didn't know then if it would work out and I still don't. But, here I am.
Trying to replace my dear friends was the hardest. It was hard because it simply cannot be done. I get that now. The realization was, briefly, quite hopeless. But, now I try to remind myself that new friends can't be made overnight and being comfortable doesn't always come easily. That was the whole point of this move, after all, Rach. Comfort and me have always been at odds. It is one of my most devastating and delightful psychological defects.
Luckily, Austin has its charms. A city so full of music can heal even the most damaged outlook on life. I love the area and weather and calendar of events. I found an amazing man and some good friends to show me the lay of this very strange, very large land. I've shot guns, rode horses, cooked over flames, two stepped, smoked joints, and watched football, just like a real Texan. My boots are properly worn in.
I've also made my small mark. Some people in Austin now say darling with a little more daawwwwl. Folks sworn to hunting dogs have a new-found soft spot for Shih Tzus. Corn and Velveeta are becoming dietary staples. Muumuus are...um...ok, fine, still not in style, but I've only been here a year. There is hope.
One year in, I'm really happy to be here of course. But, I still miss the familiarity of my East Coast life a lot and, most of all, I miss my people. Tonight the whiskey I intend to drink will be both celebratory and therapeutic. DC may get a few drunken phone calls tonight from a happy/sad Texan.
Don't Think I Don't Think About It by Darius Rucker
I've thought about that day almost every day since with varied emotion. I'm overwhelmingly lonely at times but also grateful that I was able to shed the stale life I was living in DC for something new and different. I didn't know then if it would work out and I still don't. But, here I am.
Trying to replace my dear friends was the hardest. It was hard because it simply cannot be done. I get that now. The realization was, briefly, quite hopeless. But, now I try to remind myself that new friends can't be made overnight and being comfortable doesn't always come easily. That was the whole point of this move, after all, Rach. Comfort and me have always been at odds. It is one of my most devastating and delightful psychological defects.
Luckily, Austin has its charms. A city so full of music can heal even the most damaged outlook on life. I love the area and weather and calendar of events. I found an amazing man and some good friends to show me the lay of this very strange, very large land. I've shot guns, rode horses, cooked over flames, two stepped, smoked joints, and watched football, just like a real Texan. My boots are properly worn in.
I've also made my small mark. Some people in Austin now say darling with a little more daawwwwl. Folks sworn to hunting dogs have a new-found soft spot for Shih Tzus. Corn and Velveeta are becoming dietary staples. Muumuus are...um...ok, fine, still not in style, but I've only been here a year. There is hope.
One year in, I'm really happy to be here of course. But, I still miss the familiarity of my East Coast life a lot and, most of all, I miss my people. Tonight the whiskey I intend to drink will be both celebratory and therapeutic. DC may get a few drunken phone calls tonight from a happy/sad Texan.
Don't Think I Don't Think About It by Darius Rucker
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Friday, April 15, 2011
Take that woman down
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
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
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
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