Texas

...now browsing by category

 

Truck driver

Monday, July 11th, 2011

After a whirlwind game of “drive to Texas as fast as you can,” I’m back in Colorado today.

A few things of note:
– I drove the world’s nicest Penske truck.  It had a CD player, and an icy cold air conditioner.  It accelerated on the up-hills, and hugged the turns like it wanted to be more than friends.

The only lame thing was that it didn’t have cruise control.  When I asked the man at the rental desk about it, he suggested I “find a broom, snap off the handle, and wedge that son of a bitch to the floor” – the “son of a bitch” being the pedal, obviously.  And I laughed out loud.  Because a grizzly old man saying “son of a bitch” is enough to do me in.  I’m easy that way.

– I made a video – mostly out of boredom, until I realized that making a video was getting boring, too.  So soak up these 76 seconds.

– All of my dad’s stuff was successfully delivered, unloaded, and arranged in his new home.  I am now considering a new career in professional moving.  The industry is surely short on a vixen.

– I had the “Mr. Pink” at Torchy’s.  Fish tacos are the way to my heart.

– And finally, I just thought you would like to know that when I woke up on Sunday morning, I needed to get to church, but my dad had already left. So I drove the Penske. To church. In red heels. ROCKED IT.

Coming up next

Friday, July 8th, 2011

If you’re wondering what I’m doing tomorrow, and then consider that I might be driving 900 miles by myself in a Penske truck from Colorado Springs to Austin, only to turn around and fly back to Denver on Sunday, well.

You would be right.

And if you’re curious as to what the current weather in Austin is, and then suppose that it’s in the triple digits every day, well.

You would be right about that, too.

And if you ask what I might do to keep myself busy on the drive, and then assume that whatever it is, it will probably include talking out loud to myself and making up ditties about the panhandle of Texas, well.

Wouldn’t you like to know.

Oh, for the LUV

Monday, March 22nd, 2010

I’ll just cut to the chase: Southwest Airlines lost my luggage this weekend.

[insert me telling you how this sent me for a minor emotional tailspin, and how I was sick as a dog, and almost broke down and gave up, but soldiered on – for the children, really, and for America]

Flying from Nashville to Austin on Friday night, I was exhausted.  I was getting sick – and I had no Kleenex.  So on the plane, to my horror and shame, I had no choice but to use my sleeve to wipe my insanely runny nose.  Multiple times.

Southwest offered to reimburse me for $50 worth of necessities until they found my bags – which, when you are in town for a wedding, and all you have is the mucus-crusted cardigan on your back, won’t get you very far.  But I appreciated the gesture, and went to Target to max out on the necessary toiletries, medications, and two pairs of underwear.

Why two pairs?  Because I wasn’t sure what kind of a dress I would wind up wearing, and any woman can tell you that different dresses call for different undergarments.  Just… I just needed both pairs, okay?  Always be prepared.

I found a dress and shoes at TJ Maxx, took a hot shower, my meds kicked in, and a great time was had by all at Joey and Sam’s fabulous wedding.  All’s well that ends well, right?

Not so fast, sparky.

Southwest decided to itemize my Target receipt, saying that they weren’t sure that all of these things were truly “necessary” to my survival without my luggage.  Things that made the cut, no questions asked?  Cosmetics.  Medicine.  Eyedrops.  Tampons.  Thanks, guys, for deeming tampons “necessary.”  You are too kind.

The complication?  The underwear.

Apparently, because the luggage was returned within 24 hours, only one of the pairs was considered “necessary.”  And so there at the Southwest counter, I was asked to indicate which pair I wore that day – bikini or thong.  Multiple times, I was asked out loud, “Which pair did you need today?  The bikini or the thong?”

You will never know.

But Southwest does.

Love me some Lone Star

Monday, October 1st, 2007

At slumber parties, you never want to be the one to fall asleep first. Whoever succumbs to slumber first runs the risk of her pals deviously dipping her hand into warm, and then immediately following, icy water, causing the victim to wet the bed.

That was Austin.

Today is October 1st, and yet the temperature was well above 90 degrees, at 95% humidity. Ah, but the clever Austinites have figured out the miracle of air conditioning, and they know how to blast it. Therefore, my experience was a revolving door of hot / cold / hot / cold, leaving me in a perpetual state of needing to pee.

Or maybe it was all of the ice chips I was feeding myself in order to stave off a stroke.

Austin is amazing. I loved it. I want to live on South Congress street and eat at taco bars every day. I want to be one of those effortlessly cool girls in cowboy boots and hip jewelry, nursing a Corona and speaking Spanish intermittently. I want to claim every lone star I see.

I do NOT want to sweat. But I suppose I could powder my nose recurrently.

Austin is like that beautiful, intelligent, creative woman – the one we all know – seemingly unattainable to outsiders. And Austinites are the mysterious ones who have won her heart, who have achieved her favor. It is cacti and palm trees, Spanish crosses and mosaic art, bats and armadillos, vintage and edgy, red and yellow and gold and turquoise.

We loved it so much, we decided to become snake charmers.

We were so Texan, we found a LIVE LIZARD in the light fixture of Becca’s closet.

And I woke up each morning to this guy, who wanted to spoon.

I left Becca and Gabe after their first day of school, and they will be the stars of the class.

I-35 South

Saturday, September 29th, 2007

Here I sit, in a Red Roof Inn in Austin, Texas. I am here with my sister Becca and her adorable puppy dog Gabe after an 11 hour drive south from Kansas City.

On Monday, Becca will have her first day of dog training school at Triple Crown Dog Academy. If thoughts of “dog training school” leave you at a loss, then don’t worry – you’re not the only one. Becca herself wrote a great blog about her dubious thoughts about what this experience might be like. I? Think that it’s rad that she’s following her passion.

To be honest, I felt a bit hesitant to take this trip with Becca and Gabe today. Last week, Gabe barfed all over the back seat of my Honda – rivers and fountains of chunky brown liquid that soaked into my upholstery and pooled in the space between the seat and the door – and the scent isn’t giving any indication that it will fade in the future… ever. The last thing in the world that I wanted was a repeat scenario. But today, the three of us lived out my wildest road tripping dreams: in Becca’s black Toyota Tacoma, driving south, with a dog, listening to music, seeing places I had never seen before. The only thing that would have made it more fun is if our other siblings could have been along – but we settled for a phone call to Sarah, urgently asking for directions to a coffee establishment in Edmond, Oklahoma. Gabe was a perfect angel, except when he decided that he NEEDED to hang out on my lap, which meant that his furry butt was in my face.

Now, since you have probably been craving a list from me, I give you:

“Things I saw on the way to Austin”:

* swarms of birds, “Planet Earth” style, between Kansas City and Wichita
* a billboard: “Just say yes to Jesus… or REGRET IT FOREVER,” in northern Oklahoma
* Oklahoma City, which is the site of the fabled Oklahoma City Bombing… and this nightmare
* so many Subway franchises, I couldn’t count
* “The Auto Ranch” north of Dallas, which, as far as I could tell, is just a sprawling field where cars go to die
* a billboard: “Call us for your Vasectomy Reversal: 1-713-REVERSE,” south of Ft. Worth
* a bumper sticker: “Cowboys for Jesus” (I should get the female counterpart for my Honda)
* a rest-stop painted as the flag of Texas, complete with matching trash cans
* Waco, Texas – two words: David Koresh
* a shirt in a truck stop: “Silly boys – trucks are for GIRLS!” (I almost bought it for Becca)

Tomorrow, we’ll drop Gabe at a doggie daycare at a local Petsmart, and head out to see the city. Imagine me all Sandra Bullock-esque, in a long flowing skirt and a tank top with cool, funky jewelry.

That’s how I’ve always imagined Austin.