Plane tickets have been acquired. At 8:05 A.M. CST on Wednesday, August 16th, I'll be on my way home. I'm at the point now where I'm still enjoying being in Austin, but can't wait to see my friends and family, have a Black & Tan at Club 18, pet Sparky and Candy, and sleep on a mattress that's filled with something - anything - other than air. The above-the-clouds pictures Nicole just sent me from her recent flight to North Carolina have me excited to be flying again. And on top of all this, I think I'm returning to Schuylkill County with a deeper appreciation for what makes it unique; there were so many times I caught myself almost gushing over the place to coworkers, and Nicole and I got a little too excited talking about the Henry Clay monument last weekend. Still, be on the lookout for my whiny "I miss Texas" post around the 18th.

In only slightly less important ticket-purchasing news, I bought my advance pass to the Beatie Boys Rap-Along this Thursday at the Alamo Drafthouse. Securing my attendance at the first Beasties show is almost enough to make up having to miss this by two days.

The top three things I've learned about myself over the past two weeks:

1. I don't need my computer to live.

I've spent about half of my time here in Texas with a busted laptop and no internet access at home. Granted, I still have the luxury of browsing a few blogs and listening to Yahoo! Radio while at work, and I can always use Medha's computer if I need to look up a bus route or something. Still, the time I spend daily on the internerd has been drastically reduced when compared to my pre-Austin days. I've been reading more and heading downtown to my favorite bars and coffeeshops as a result; sometimes I go for a walk or listen to the instructional German language tapes I bought. One could possibly argue that my quality of life has been improved, and that my freedom from the need to be constantly connected should be celebrated. I'm not sure I'd go that far, but I don't completely disagree with the notion that I've been more immersed in Austin that I'd have been otherwise. Anyway, all this rambling doesn't mean I didn't cry, drink way too much Shiner, and undercook my chicken the night the folks who were fixing my laptop told me that my best bet would be to sell it on Ebay for $150. And I may have been sick the next day, but not dead. Who'd have thunk it?

2. I'm not a very good dancer.

Medha, Rohan, Nicole, and I went to the Midnight Rodeo this past weekend; despite Rohan's brave attepmts at showing me a few steps, I was far from the Baby Houseman to his Johnny Castle. I keep telling myself that it was only because I wasn't drunk enough, but deep in my heart, I know the awful truth.

3. My love for the Smashing Pumpkins has elevated to a psychosomatic level.

I hadn't listened to the radio in a long time before I bought a cheap tape stereo to replace the mp3s and Napster to which cruel fate has denied me access. Sometimes I fall asleep with the dial tuned to my favorite Austin radio station, KROX. Three times over the past week or so, I've woken up in the middle of the night to hear Billy Corgan's voice serenading me through the darkness. I'd love to know if Pumpkins songs are played on the nights I don't wake up, or how to track my sleep cycles to see if the Power of the Pumpkins can rouse me from deep sleeps or only from periods of R.E.M. Scientists should study me. Oh, and please don't bother trying to offer rational explanations for this. This is my favorite balloon, and I'll hate you if you try to burst it.

Still laptopless, but Nicole just sent me some of the pictures that Jeremy took on our El Paso trip.


This is one is my favorite. Nicole had it captioned as "Our Album Cover," and that totally inspired me to make a mix cd of all the songs that remind me of my summer in Texas and print this picture on the CD label. I love how we managed to get all four of us in it (see Joe and the open road in the reflection of my super cool shades - $2.99 at the Goodwill, by the way).



Nicole is in the the United States and I'm in Mexico. The arrangement wasn't arbitrary; Nicole made it clear in the comments of an earlier post that she's not a fan of the North American land down under.


Here we are on the Wyler Aerial Tramway. I have some video of our ascent that I'll post on YouTube when (if?) I get my laptop back, but for now it will have to suffice to say that the view at the top is worth the nervewracking four minute ride 2,600 feet up in a quasi phone booth.

My laptop has been in the shop for three weeks. I have a ton of pics I'd like to get off my camera and on Flickr, but until I get to do that, please enjoy this MS Paint masterpiece depicting me enjoying our awesome weekend in El Paso.

The trip out to the West Texas town of El Paso this weekend is really going to happen. I was nervous for a while there; we had been discussing it for weeks, but renting a car turned out to be more difficult - and expensive - than we had originally anticipated. Four of us will embark Thursday night on the 576 mile journey, and we're hoping to hit up two countries, two U.S. states, and two time zones while we're out there. Wish us luck, and stay tuned for plenty of pictures of tumbleweed. Yes, I can't wait to see tumbleweed!

I've been to the Alamo Drafthouse three times so far, and I've had such a great time at each show. Anyone who knows me knows that I love to belt out a tune, especially if alcohol is involved. Behold - the Alamo Drafthouse combines the two! My first time there was with Nicole for the R. Kelly Trapped in the Closet Sing-Along, and the second was with Joe for The Muppet Movie Sing-Along. Then, last night, I had my best Alamo experience yet. The show: Hanging Tough: The Boy Band Sing-Along. The verdict: beyond awesome.

After blowing off Quentin Tarantino in the lobby (true story - he and Fiona Apple were filming a Sundance Channel documentary), Nicole and I got into the soldout show on standby. We sat in the front row, ordered sangria and popcorn, and sang our little boy band-loving hearts out. The chemistry in the crowd was amazing. There was dancing in the aisles and on the stage in front of the screen, and a sense of camaraderie among all of the uncloseted boy band fans who didn't need the lyrics on the screen to belt out every word to "Bye, Bye, Bye." The finale, "Pop" and "Everybody (Backstreet's Back), prompted even us to get up and dance. You know that it's a special night when Nicole busts a move.

As we were exiting, the hosts announced the upcoming Beastie Boys rap-along. I'll be there.

Joe, Nicole, and I embarked on an ill-fated journey to Port Aransas last Saturday. We were all excited about swimming in the Gulf of Mexico. Unfortunately, things didn't go as planned. Some facts:

1. It is a long walk from the Port Aransas ferry to the beach. That's why everyone waits in line for an hour or two to cross it by car instead of having the bright idea to just park their vehicles along the road and take the ferry on foot.

2. The trolley that goes from the beach back to ferry stops running relatively early, and so one shouldn't count on being able to hitch a ride back.

3. It's relatively easy to find a local gentleman with a dirty pickup truck who, for $8, is willing to cart three exhausted kids to the ferry from the pizza shop where he drinks beer all afternoon.

After the beach fun, we boarded our casino boat. The cruise was long: we boarded around 5:30pm and didn't get back to shore until 1:45am or so. I'm proud of myself for not gambling away a lot of money. In fact, at one point, I was up almost $100 at the blackjack table. In the end, I walked away with $1 more than I started. Except for that one time I found $10 outside of Cousin Jim's apartment after a night in Atlantic City, this was my most lucrative gambling experience yet.

Exhausted and in desperate need of showers, we were on the road by 2am, making the 250 mile trek back to Austin. Around 3:15am, we hit a snag. Joe's car, or rather, Joe's timing belt, called it quits. Nicole and I instictively jumped out and pushed the car to a nearby gas station. By the time the tow truck got there, it was 5am. To make things even more interesting, AAA never told the tow truck guy that there were passengers in the car, resulting in one of the most uncomfortable car rides of our lives. Four of us - Joe, Nicole, myself, and the driver who seemed to stop for an energy drink at every other gas station - squeezed into the cab of a tow truck. We got to Austin around 9am, and I think it was about 10am until I finally got a shower and went to bed.

I'm really lucky that everyone was able to laugh at the situation, even while it was happening. I think it would've been unbearable otherwise. As things were, we got to stick our feet in the Gulf, gamble, and resolve to rent a car for our next road trip. Joe, for all his trouble, was treated to dinner at Casa de Luz by Nicole and myself. For all the things that went wrong, there was still a happy ending.