Getting through SXSW tip
Pass time by counting every girl wearing high-waisted cut off frayed jean shorts. Bonus points if they’re paired with animal print/ neon leggings.
Triple word score if it’s a puke yellow jumper worn by Lena Dunham in the last episode of ‘Girls.’
If I were interested
I’d be on your doorstep with a boombox, singing Sophie B. Hawkins “Damn, Wish I Were Your Lover” so, you know, there’s really no reason to text me at 1:30 a.m.
What Ifs, or, Why Bobbie is Single
- What if he uses emoticons?
- What if he supports fracking without considering the environmental costs, the health effects on well water for people who don’t own the mineral rights to their land and the degradation of small town life in rural Texas I mean I obviously know a lot about this because I just watched a Frontline documentary on it and also Gasland?
- What if he doesn’t like Frontline documentaries?
- What if he loves Florida Georgia Line or any form of mainstream Nashville country that involves white dudes rapping?
- What if he’s one of those dudes who’s all ‘I’m not into playing games’ but then proceeds to play games?
- What if he takes pictures of himself shirtless with his iPhone 5?
- (No there’s no way he does that I could never be attracted to someone who does that no way no siree)
- What if he doesn’t understand my love for Bruce Springsteen, specifically “Secret Garden,” which is the greatest love song of all time because it celebrates a woman’s inner complexities and a fickle-bitch-nature and also, duh, Bruce is an American hero?
- Seriously though, what if he uses emoticons because honestly that is the least sexy thing a man can do, especially ;) or :)~ GOD just STOP and USE WORDSSS
Five Months in the Life
I don’t know why I just haven’t been able to write lately—I guess between writing for the paper and serving gourmet deli sandwiches to the masses (the Lord’s work) all I have the energy to do at the end of the day is roll up in a blanket burrito, eat a giant Italian sub and fire up a Ken Burns documentary. But I’ve missed you so I’m dumping a 4 month-buildup of emotional garbage on you in one post.
- I went on real, actual dates. Like, three of them. Well, two and a half (men). Guys, dating is so stupid. It’s honestly one of the cruelest things two people can do to each other without exacting physical violence. That’s not to say the dates were bad. They weren’t! He was super-nice and attractive and normal. We saw some movies and had some forced conversations. I learned that he’s really into the CW superhero drama “Smallville” and Matthew McConaughey is really convincing when he’s assaulting someone with a can of pumpkin pie filling. But I just felt…nothing, which is totally normal but occasionally I still feel pangs of guilt like I’ve somehow wronged someone because I don’t want to continue sitting with him in cold, dark spaces watching emotionally traumatizing food-related deaths. On the one hand, yeah, sometimes people just don’t click. On the other, a beautiful feminist alt-country musician isn’t about to fall out of the sky and beg me to love him so I should probably stop being so weird and off-putting to men.
- (Oh but I do have a stupid crush on this guy who comes in the restaurant and he has salt and pepper hair but not in a Just For Men way, more like in a Ben Affleck playing a single dad way and he always has lunch with his dog and my heart buzzes with a medley of Belinda Carlisle songs every time I see him so that’s fun)
- Lately, all I want to do is travel. Mainly because I love Texas so much and want to see everything in it. But I’m sure it also has to do with the fact that I’m never satisfied and any time my life shows the slightest hint of stalling I start making plans to drop everything and move to Shitkick, TX pop. 203 to work at Alice’s Restaurant serving grits and coffee to hungry truckers. All I want to do is drive down ranch roads and sit in lowly lit restaurants and buy a thousand cups of coffee at gas stations and have Important Revelations about my life. Sometimes I think I do, but they’re always long gone by the time I get home.
- OK, I still don’t have A Real Job™ and that’s part of the problem. I make most of my income working at a restaurant but introduce myself as a freelance writer, which sometimes sounds the same as “unicorn hunter.” My name is in print and sometimes I get real, actual money for it and that’s exciting but I still don’t have a ~career~ as a writer with a salary that allows me to get Chipotle (WITH guacamole) on a more regular basis or health benefits that would allow me the luxury of getting influenza/scurvy/ a raging case of crotch rot because LOL going to a doctor what is that
- I started taking two-step lessons at a fitness center in a fancypants living community in North Austin so I can finally get my proper dance on at Gruene Hall and the Broken Spoke. Today was my third week and the instructor spends half of every class talking about the “oneness” of dance has yet to play anything but Shania Twain’s “Any Man of Mine.” On loop. When I finally get my very own Wrangler Brushpopper shirt everything in my life will be perfect.
omg at this weak ass Target brand Sounds of the 50s compilation disc “My Girl” cover by “Various Artists” at the RNC. How can we trust you when y’all can’t even get a decent house band?
Willing to bet Mitt Romney lists The Beatles as his favorite band on Facebook. Followed by Maroon 5, to connect with “the youth.”