Blue Behemoth Bliss

My amazing dad offered to drive down a pickup truck that he is retiring from his business Memorial Day weekend. It is in fact the same beautiful, blue behemoth that survived my first driving lessons. I'm beyond excited to have a car of my own. It's very environmentally conscientious to share a car but the fact of the matter is that in city with limited public transportation if Salsa Boy needs the car I'm a bit stranded.

I excitedly told my boss that I was getting my very own car. When I described it for him he looked a little bewildered and started the following conversation:

Boss: A pick up truck? You don't really strike me as the pick up truck type of person.
Me: Really? Why?
Boss: Well, you are kind of earthy. (This is entirely true, I do harp on about recycling and eating less meat in order to reduce my carbon footprint).
Me: Huh. I'm still going to drive the more gas efficient car to work but this way I won't have to depend on Salsa Boy (who is notoriously difficult to get going in a timely fashion in the morning) to get here if he needs the car in the afternoon.
Boss (looking decidedly doubtful): True....

The fact is that pick up trucks are wonderful. When you see strange and amazing things on the side of the road (and I'm hoping to run into some bookshelves soon or a table for my porch) you can actually stop and put them in the back. When attempting to parallel park you don't need to worry about messing up the alignment if you accidentally pop the curb. Perhaps the best gas guzzling feature of all is that it's an automatic. I will no longer have to worry about rolling back and hitting the lovely person behind me in traffic who decided to stop 2 inches from my bumper at the light. Also, it has a lovely assortment of dents (of which, I'm only responsible for some fairly minor front bumper scratches) which clearly tell other drivers to reconsider parking next to me, tail-gating, or attempting to cut me off in traffic. All in all, a wonderful deal.

Spaz Attack: NONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ~knock on wood~. I know, a rare few days when I can honestly report no major spastic occurrences. Unless you count such minor injuries as stubbed toes, which I don't

A Very Strange Animal

There is rarely a day that goes by when I'm not slightly baffled or bemused by Texan culture. Texas might be part of the United States but culturally, I can't imagine anything being more different from New York, except perhaps rural Wyoming. In Austin, the vast majority of stereotypical Texan culture is often more discrete. Visitors are thrown off the scent by all of the "Keep Austin Weird" bumper stickers and the hippies visiting independent stores.

I suppose the bus ride was similar to any other I've had in the States. No one stared, pointed, or started talking about me in not so subtle tones.

On the other hand, strangers didn't strike up conversations with me either. (Notice the shorts! It's 93 degrees here.)

Then there are scenes like this one--where giant animal trophies hang on the walls above juke boxes and oblivious bar goers. Not a single person I was with commented on the animals until I pointed them out. Which warranted a shrug, as if to say, 'And? What's so special about that?'

Hello. I'm a giant deer head, here to ogle you while you imbibe malt beverages.

Sorry for the crap quality, my iPhone camera doesn't work so well in low light (and no I don't have the latest version with the flash). My mother likes to point out that I did buy myself a very nice Canon 2 years ago for my birthday. Oh well .

Spaz update: Two days ago I found a pair of earrings that I lost 6 months ago and have been pining for ever since. Turns out, they were in the change pocket of a pair of pants that were too big on me in Korea. (A few months of Texas living and all of my clothes fit again.) When I went to put them on, I felt the strange lump and VOILA! My favorite earrings ever appeared in my hands. I've been wearing them non stop ever since.  Where is the spaz you ask? This morning I went to straighten out the slightly bent post (no doubt a result of living in my pants pocket) and broke it off instead. All I could think was 'absolutely typical.' Hopefully they can be repaired since they are the only earrings I own that I can't afford to replace.

Now to add to my ever growing list of professionals to find in Austin: a jeweler that I trust. Oh well.