September 29, 2011

With nothing on the agenda, we decided to make it a dinner and movie night.  With it being Austin Restaurant Week, downtown beckoned with a showing of Incendiary at the Victoria Crown theater and an incredible menu at the Driskill Grill.  Attached to the Driskill Hotel, built in 1886, the Driskill Grill blends the beautiful, old world architecture of the rest of the building with modern takes on traditional Texas flavors.  Our appetizers consisted of compressed watermelon with prosciutto, blueberries, and feta, as well as a walnut and caramelized pear bisque.  Dinner was Alaskan halibut, mascarpone and chive mashed potatoes, and roasted cauliflower with lemon butter.  And, finally, our desserts were a peanut butter bar with strawberry jam, whipped milk chocolate, and caramel, as well as a delicious spiced honey-amaretto concoction.  I couldn't believe how incredible every single thing tasted!  Plus, with all of the additional treats, "compliments of the chef," I was grateful for the long walk to Victoria Crown afterwards.  Another wonderful night in Austin!  

September 28, 2011

Another victory for There Will Be Blood with a 20-7 game against Texas Review of Litigation.  As kickoff loomed, we weren't sure we would even be playing as not enough girls had showed up for the game.  However, the game proceeded as planned as four girls showed up to play both offense and defense for the full game, turning the game into There Will Be Blood's best game of the season, thus far.  It seems everyone on the team has found his or her niche; both offensive and defensive plays were incredibly well executed.  With TROL at first and goal, There Will Be Blood was able to keep them at bay with rushers and close coverage; with an interception and lateral pass, There Will Be Blood was able to pick up another 10 points for a solid point lead with less than ten plays left in the game.  Besides these highlights, there were incredible plays throughout the game.  We'll be back next week against We Kick Ads in an attempt to secure a spot in the playoffs.

September 27, 2011

It is a bit past 6 o'clock in the morning in the Walnut Creek Nature Preserve off North Lamar in Austin, Texas.  I am running through the trees with a Camelbak handheld with water and Black Diamond head lamp to light the way.  I am loosely tracking the faster runners, those who are likely to finish near the top of the pack in races.  Behind me, and on the far end of my hearing capacity, I hear the chatter of the slower runners.  My pace is strong and solid; my breathing is directly on point; this is shaping up to be a fantastic run.  Although I don't know the trails as well as I would like, and rather than waiting at intersections to ensure I'm going in the correct direction, I make turns as I seem to remember them.  Unfortunately, these turns were the wrong choice and suddenly, I find myself alone, the sound of chatter has disappeared, and it's just me, my headlamp and water, and the whistling of wind through the trees.  Trying to retrace my steps, I run back to where I thought I'd made a wrong turn.  Instead of finding my group, I find myself more turned around than I was before.  After yelling out into the darkness without a response, my anxiety peaks.  As I'm straining my eyes and ears, I see a headlamp bobbing through the trees.  Another runner has finally come along; after explaining the situation, he agrees to let me tag along until we run into my group or until the parking lot is nearby.  As I drove home later, and while considering the dodgy nature of the neighborhood and happenings in Walnut Creek, the dangerousness of the whole event became more apparent.  So, in the future, I either run faster to keep up, or fall back at an easier pace.

September 26, 2011

There are some wonderful things about going to a top-notch public university like The University of Texas:  cutting-edge research programs, renowned professors, and innovative scholarship.  As I've learned time and time again over the past six and a half years at this university, however, there can be one burdensome downside as well: an incredible amount of needless and inefficient bureaucracy.  As a result of this bureaucracy, the leaders of law school student organizations and journals have been required to work through safety training modules and attend this safety workshop.  While I understand and appreciate the propriety of such measures for undergraduate student organizations, the modules and workshop were simply inapplicable to the workings of law school student organizations.  Thus, I spent over an hour today in a room discussing what risks may be associated with requiring students to drink trash can punch made with Everclear while on a retreat.  Unfortunately, this was simply a waste of my time and, less directly, my money. 

September 25, 2011

When I was little, my Dad would buy season passes to Fiesta Texas and take my brother and I multiple times over the course of the summer.  The Rattler was the ride of the trip every single time.  It is a massive wooden roller coaster that sways and shakes precariously with every turn.  "Jostling" is too tame a word to describe what The Rattler does to its passengers.  Unfortunately, and perhaps appropriately so, I was never tall enough to ride The Rattler.  So, I'd wait while my Dad and brother were in line, wishing I would grow just an inch or two taller so I too could feel as if I were in a car accident upon walking off the ride.  Sadly, before I grew those lovely extra few inches, our visits to Fiesta Texas were over:  I never got my chance to ride the ride of all rides.  Today my day arrived with a trip to Fiesta Texas and a few more inches of height to my name.  Confidently, I walked up to the entrance to The Rattler, looked the hissing beast in the eye, and took my place in line for the last car on the tracks.  As I was thrown around the car up and down the steep hills, around the sharp twists, and overtop the rickety beams, it was impossible to miss the giant grin plastered on my face.  I may have walked off the ride with a slight concussion, but it was well worth the many inches and many years of waiting.

September 24, 2011

Another round of birthdays, another round of celebrations.  For her birthday celebration, Kelley rented a limousine bus for an afternoon tour of a few wineries in the Texas Hill Country.  After a visit and lunch at Rancho Ponte, we made our way to William & Chris Vineyards in Hye, Texas.  Now, I've had a bit of wine in my life; some very good wine, and also some very bad wine.  This being said, the wine of the William & Chris Vineyards just may be the best wine I've ever tasted.  Just as an example, the Hunter is a smooth merlot, cabernet sauvignon, cabernet franc, tempranillo, and mourverde blend.  I'm not sure I've ever had such a wonderful balance of bold flavors with such a perfectly dry, yet smooth finish.  What's more incredible about my taking a liking to this wine is the alma mater of the Chris of William & Chris.  After a bit of goading, I found this lovely message on the bottle of Hunter I asked him to sign for us.  Many thanks to William & Chris Vineyards for amazing wine and some refreshing Longhorn-Aggie chatter.  

September 23, 2011

With more than 500 miles logged on my first pair of 101s, things started to go a bit haywire.  The tread has, understandably, worn down about 75%, making it difficult to navigate dusty declines and slick rocks.  I had adjusted to the tread, however.  Unfortunately, within the span of a few miles earlier this week, something that felt like a rogue pebble in my left shoe quite suddenly became an incredibly apparent broken rock plate.  This is problematic for a few reasons:  first, the rock plate began digging into the bottom of my foot and second, a broken rock plate no longer does its job.  With a monster of a race looming in about four and a half weeks, I knew it was time to replace my much loved kicks.  I briefly thought about trying the New Balance Minimus, but decided to stick with what has done me well and bought a second pair of 101s.  Hopefully this pair isn't a set of lemons and will get me through the end of next month reasonably well. 

September 22, 2011

A play by Anton Chekhov, directed by Bryant Pope for the University of Texas Department of Theatre and Dance, "The Cherry Orchard" is a play about a Russian family facing the sale of their long-held estate.  The play is full of helplessly delusional characters who wander through their life without any clue as to what differentiates reality from fantasy.  The main characters, Lyoubov and Leonid Ranevskaya, would rather reminisce on the childhoods they spent at the estate, which is now up for auction as they have no money with which to pay the mortgage.  Lyoubov also has delusions of love awaiting her in Paris, while Leonid oddly fantasizes about a perfect game of billiards.  The family tutor, Petya, who sees himself as a brilliant torch leading the way to the happiness of the future, really is simply masking his own feelings of inadequacy with his reality.  And finally, there is Yermolai, the once-poor, now-wealthy acquaintance of the family, who cannot untangle himself from the self-imposed shame he feels about his upbringing to embrace the life he has made for himself.  The play was funny, but mostly tragic, as I find Russian literature tends to be.  As presumably intended by Chekhov, and perhaps in parallel to the characters, the ending leaves the audience unsure of what is next to come and where the characters will find themselves once reality takes hold.

September 21, 2011

Don't let the current standings fool you:  Team There Will Be Blood, otherwise and less interestingly known as TILJ, is currently 2-1.  We were scheduled to play the Texas Law Review team tonight but, for reasons unknown to There WIll Be Blood, our opponents were "no shows," allowing us to log our first victory of the intramural flag football season.  We were hoping to find another coed team to play with in lieu of our curiously missing opponents, but we were told no other teams had similarly been the victors due to forfeit at the second game of the season.  However, as we were running practice plays, we noticed another team seemingly without an opponent and suggested a friendly scrimmage.  Recognizing them as advertising graduate students, I asked them whether their team name was "Mad Men," which seemed to fluster them as they hadn't thought of the idea on their own.  Forty five minutes, one touch down later, and two botched and unimpressive plays with yours truly as quarterback, the quip seemed to have done its unintended job:  There Will Be Blood secured a second victory for the evening.  Unfortunately, our hard earned scrimmage victory doesn't count toward our overall record.

September 20, 2011

A lady's best friend may very well be her trusty pair of black, patent leather flats.  Whether embellished with a medallion, a bow, some sequins, or simply plain, the black flat is a wardrobe staple.  Because I walked so much between jobs this summer, my previous pair of black flats had seen much better days.  With a sigh and heavy heart, I threw them away on my last day of work.  Now, almost a month later, I've finally found a suitable replacement pair:  they're simple and elegant, comfortable, and well made.  The best part, however, is the feeling of slipping into a new pair of shoes for the first time.  I suppose this could be said of any new addition to a person's wardrobe, home decor, or similar, but a new accent "piece" always brings a sense of freshness to the day.  Today seemed springier, perhaps even snappier, with my new flats.  In fact, the feeling leaves me inclined to go shoe shopping again in the very near future! 

September 19, 2011

A few years ago, I texted Kate to tell her I didn't have anything to do and wasn't sure how to spend the rest of my evening.  Knowing I was referring to not having anything left on my to-do list, Kate told me I should relax on the couch and watch some television.  Not knowing what this "relax" concept related to, I decided to clean my apartment instead.  It is an incredibly rare day when I can't describe it as a productive one.  Although I didn't have much work for class to take care of today, the rest of my day was full of responding to Journal emails, organizing staffers on various projects, responding to work emails, and getting the rest of my life in order with trips to the gym, the grocery story, and the laundry room.  Sadly, although I suppose it is a "good" thing, I rarely have a lazy day, a day when I ignore my to-do list and just . . . relax.  In fact, to me, a day off often means a day free of other obligations so I can just work in peace.  If I can't describe my day as productive, then the day isn't yet over. 

September 18, 2011

Today was a day of helping others, both planned and unplanned.  Around 9 a.m., we helped Haleigh haul her mattresses to the Salvation Army, the final step in her moving out of her old apartment.  After a quick stop at Monkey Nest for some caffeine, we were flagged down by a woman who found her battery unable to start her car.  Although I was scared Brutus' sheer size and menacing look would blow her small Miata-sized car to smithereens, we hooked up the two batteries and successfully jumped her car.  Finally, while at Third Base to watch even more football, testing the Gods of Football Victories after they'd already granted two Ws yesterday, we shared our table with someone who'd simply chosen the wrong place to grab a post-gym bite to eat.  I'm hoping my karma jar isn't overflowing yet, I could use a bit more in the coming months.  Regardless of the status of my karma jar, however, it felt really nice to be so helpful all day. 

September 17, 2011

After Vince Young's glorious win in the BCS National Championship game against the University of Southern California in the 2005 season, it was Colt McCoy's turn to win the hearts of Longhorn fans across the state and nation.  I dutifully bought a No. 12 jersey and even more dutifully wore it every game day, as if it were a requirement of my religion.  According to me, games either rise or fall on the basis of my wearing my No. 12 game day jersey.  Remember the ill-fated game against Texas Tech with McCoy at the helm?  My apologies extend in an attempt to soothe your angst; I wasn't wearing my jersey until midway through the third quarter, which was too little too late.  McCoy's jersey has taken me through his four non-redshirt seasons, and now into the next era of Longhorn football with his little brother, Case McCoy, at the lead.  Grateful I didn't purchase a No. 7 Garrett Gilbert jersey, I watched Case McCoy lead a strong Longhorns offense down the field at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, California to win over the UCLA Bruins, 49-20.  If you're wondering, I'm currently stockpiling ear plugs so I don't have to hear the announcers on their third round of McCoy-Shipley roommate commentary, all the while writing to both the McCoys and Shipleys to inquire as to when we can expect the next set of stellar Longhorn offensive football players.  

September 16, 2011

I went to bed tonight with a sudden realization:  I hadn't stepped foot outside even once the entire day.  Two packages were delivered today, so I did see the light of day and momentarily breathe some fresh air, but my toes stayed squarely behind my threshold.  I spent some time watching the Today show, one of my continuing morning traditions since high school.  Then I spent the majority, or the remaining entirety, of the day researching and outlining for my seminar paper.  The articles I read were incredibly interesting, so the time passed quickly.  After a few short minutes of a reading-induced sleep, I took to cleaning my apartment, which I always take for filthy before it even reaches the boundary between clean and slightly unkempt.  By the end of the day, I found myself right where I began, spending over twenty four surprisingly pleasant hours in the same seven hundred square feet. 

September 15, 2011

I came across Delta Spirit in college; they were opening for a show I went to see at the Parish.  I can't remember the original band or musician I saw that night, but Delta Spirit stuck with me.  I've been a fan of their music for almost five years now.  I've seen them live more times than I can count and the shows just keep getting better each go 'round.  The first time I saw Delta Spirit, their front man, Matt Vasquez, was performing on an old, beat up, duct taped, sea foam green Fender.  Perhaps indicative of their success, Vasquez seems to play a more expensive guitar at each show, often a Gibson, but always pulls out the old Fender for a song or two.  Tonight's show was incredible.  Emo's was packed, as usual, and the band played a number of their new songs.  I was bummed I didn't know the words, but was also happy to hear my familiar favorites.  To go along with their new songs, rumor has it, a new album is coming out in March.

September 14, 2011

I have to admit something:  I'm a thief.  However, I think the reason underlying my thieving is particularly compelling.  Since the beginning of the semester, I've been keeping an eye out for the reemergence of Einstein's Pumpkin Shmear on Bagel Wednesdays.  When it appears, fall has officially arrived and the time has come for pumpkin ice cream, lattes, pie, and anything else pumpkin related.  Pumpkin Shmear, however, takes the cake for the best pumpkin concoction of the season, combining two of my favorite flavors:  cream cheese and pumpkin.  Whoever created the combination is a genius.  So, when I walked into the office this morning and spied the deliciously dark orange shmear, I couldn't quite help myself.  After allowing a few people to delight in its deliciousness, I absconded with the shmear and secreted it away in my office.  I suppose I could have stopped by Einstein on my way home this evening, but I simply couldn't muster the patience.  Thank you Einstein, for creating this Pumpkin Shmear.  I am forever in your, and the rest of the Journal's, debt.  

September 13, 2011

In late May, I took a trip to Washington, D.C.  While the trip itself was fantastic, the return leg was quite stressful.  A mysteriously canceled flight to Chicago at the last minute, with zero options to get me to Austin by evening, required me to fly D.C.-Cleveland-Houston.  From Houston, I rented a car and drove to Austin.  As I'm still a "youngin" in the eyes of car rental companies, I was charged an astronomical amount for a car rental lasting just under three hours.  This, I decided, could not stand.  As my substitute flight was on Continental, I began with them.  Although they were unable to reimburse me, as my original booking was with United, they did give me a $100 flight voucher for my troubles.  Next, I got in touch with United.  After three months of attempting to provide sufficient evidence of the charges, and their investigation for the canceled flight to Chicago, I was given full reimbursement for the cost of the rental, plus a $150 flight voucher.  I would usually just accept an unexpected expense like this and write it off as an "it happens" situation, but I'm glad I pursued this.  United left its customers in the lurch after notifying them of a canceled flight less than two hours before take-off.  I hope I'm not the only one from the flight who was able to get United to set things right.

September 12, 2011

No, I refuse.  It is much too early in the semester to be arguing with myself over whether coffee is a good beverage of choice throughout the day.  As I scale the stairs to my office in the mornings, my eyes light up at the idea of a hot cup of coffee sitting next to me and my computer.  This, my friends, is not a good sign.  Usually my caffeine addiction doesn't peak until late in the semester, closer to final exams.  This week marks only the fourth week of the semester; how can I be at this stage of the coffee debacle already?  Last week I avoided it; this week looks to be a bit more difficult.  After my morning cup today, though, I was feeling the same "fuzzy" as I was a few days ago; perhaps there is a connection, although it seems counterintuitive.  With the answer unknown, and until tomorrow's renewed war of willpower between me and the coffee machine, I'll just remain content to continue to sip on my now-cold cup of coffee.  

September 11, 2011

My Chuck Taylors are one of those pairs of shoes that just make me feel comfortable and perhaps even safe.  They're so simple and so worn in, they're like an old blanket or sentimental t-shirt.  They easily tuck under me if I need to curl up for a nap; they don't pinch, rub, or otherwise harass my feet; and they are consistently reliable.  As I had a flight to Houston ahead of me this afternoon, plus an evening drive back to Austin, I knew comfort was key.  Not just physical comfort, though, but the homey kind of comfort, which, however it happens, these shoes can give.  The warmth inducing kind of comfortable.  Today was not a particularly easy day by any stretch of the imagination, but oddly enough, wearing my Chucks helped.  As I've had them for nearly ten years, they've seen quite a bit and have walked with me through a number of tough situations.  They're a bit worse for wear, but they get the job done as well as they did fresh out of the box. 

September 10, 2011

Having at least one Shiner Bock during every Texas Longhorn football game is one of my earliest and longest surviving traditions.  I'm not entirely sure how  it began but for as long as I can recall, I've always required one to ensure the 'Horns pull off a win.  As crazy as it may sound, I'm convinced Texas did not win the national championship against Alabama because I did not have a Shiner.  To be fair, New York City, which is where I watched the game, doesn't allow for the importation of Shiner, but I should have some how found a way to overcome this minor obstacle.  This game day was no different than usual; as we sat down to wait for kick off at the Tavern, the familiar words were spoken:  I'll have a Shiner Bock, please.  Shortly into the second half, I knew my task was complete as the 'Horns showed up to the game, marched down the field, and held BYU's offense for a 17-16 victory.  Hook 'em.

September 9, 2011

My apartment is ridiculously old.  It is so dated, I can't even estimate how old the appliances and air conditioner are.  Everything is ridiculously loud or entirely inefficient.  The dishwasher sounds like a jet engine and isn't properly secured into the cabinetry.  The air conditioner, similarly, is as loud as a utility-sized air compressor and, although it is tightly bolted in place, doesn't accurately reflect the temperature in my apartment.  The stove, however, is the ultimate terrible appliance.  Every single time I use it, my smoke detectors start screaming incessantly, despite my never having burned a single dish in this apartment.  It is not uncommon to see both of them on my kitchen table, as I know I'll just have to take them off the wall and unplug them the next time I use the stove.  After an hour or so of cooking tonight, part of which included roasting poblanos, these two life savers were summarily retired.

September 8, 2011

If I could have taken a picture of my mind today, I'm sure this is what it would have looked like.  Some days are just . . . fuzzy, discombobulated, and otherwise weird.  I'm curious if today's fuzziness was a factor of a busy weekend, followed by long workouts and too much work, without much dedicated rest.  Regardless of its cause, I was entirely useless today.  I couldn't create much of a coherent thought or get much done in the way of productivity (although, I'm aware this sentiment of mine is a question of relativity).  Rather, the day was spent in a haze as I walked from class to class, perhaps making fuzz-induced esoteric comments relating to each, and finally making my way to bed in the early evening.  Not even a friendly football game between two recent Super Bowl champions could keep my attention or keep me from drifting to sleep.  So, whatever it was that crept up on me was a strong fighter.  This calls for more sleep in the very near future, something I am definitely on board with.  

September 7, 2011

I may not be the best football player talent wise, but I tend to be one of the more spirited and enthusiastic players on the field when it comes time for intramural football season.  This season I had big dreams of being quarterback, as I always do, but as it turns out, it seems I'm an exceptional defensive rusher.  Once I took over the position in tonight's game, and as the rest of our team settled into their own suitable positions, the number of completions by the other team dropped precipitously.  By the end of the game, we were forcing them further back toward their own end zone, forced penalty by forced penalty.  We hoped for a safety in the end zone, but ended their final possession with a simple turnover.  Although we didn't win the scrimmage, the Journal played a fantastic game.  It's going to be a great season!  

September 6, 2011

I'm a pretty terrible vegetarian:  I'm not a huge fan of salads and I don't eat much fruit.  It's not that I don't like fruits and vegetables, because I do, but I'd rather eat something more exciting.  Plus, I maintain I get plenty of vegetables from all the salsa I eat.  Anyways, as part of my knee rehabilitation training, which involves improving my body's ability to sustain a healthy and pain-free output, I'm also focusing on my body's input.  Thus, I'm looking to new and different fruits and vegetables as healthy alternatives to tacos and migas.  While grocery shopping the other day, I decided to pick up some curiously named "pluots," a hybrid of plums and apricots.  Personally, I would have named it "plucot," rather than deciding on a double-vowel word, but that's just me.  After trying this "pluot," I also would have chosen a different hybrid fruit.  At least I can say I branched out, right?  I'll pick up a different new fruit or vegetable next time around.

September 5, 2011

I woke up this morning to a gorgeous day.  Temperatures were somewhere in the high 70s or low 80s.  A moderately strong breeze was blowing through my courtyard.  There wasn't a cloud in the sky.  Indeed, from the comfort of my front porch, everything in the Austin area seemed copacetic.  The beauty of the day belied reality, however, which I quickly learned once I turned on the morning news.  By the time I woke up, no less than a dozen new wildfires had ignited, in addition to the raging fire in Bastrop County and the fire threatening to raze the Steiner Ranch community.  As the day wore on, more fires were reported, more fire fighters were called up, and more people were forced to evacuate from their homes.  My heart goes out to these people, and to the fire fighters and rescuers working to get the flames under control, as Texas is hit with yet another hammer this summer.  Hopefully the drought and risk of continued wildfires will dwindle in the coming weeks, perhaps with a bit of rain and cooler temperatures.  We can only hope.  

September 4, 2011

Today was not about flowers.  Today was about seeing my sweet angel niece, Campbell, but I was too busy with her to take pictures of anything else.  As I was walking down the sidewalk to her she shrieked "Meek!," wriggled out of grandma's embrace, and sprinted into my arms, wrapping her tiny hands around my neck in the sweetest hug I've ever experienced.  I haven't seen Campbell in much too long, I was afraid she wouldn't recognize me.  I was wonderfully mistaken.  While waiting for a table at Taverna, she gave me flowers (shown), had me march with her, showed me the pretty clothes in the windows, and responded "awww" when I told her how much I loved her.  The whole scene was played out again when I met Campbell & Co. at Waterloo Ice House to watch the A&M v. SMU football game.  I'm so lucky to call this sweet angel my niece!  

September 3, 2011

The moment my eyes open on a fall Saturday, a few things happen.  First, I shrike "game day!"  Then, I yell "Hook 'em!"  Finally, I put on my Texas football jersey.  Only then can the day proceed with any chance of ending well.  To be certain, the rest of the day is full of superstitious rituals.  With our second year quarterback, the rituals are in the process of being tweaked, but I'm hoping I'm on the right track.  Today's season opener for the Horns was an especially anxious one, especially after last season.  I spent the day counting down the hours and minutes until kick-off, finally deciding to arrive at the stadium a few hours early and soak in the excitement, rather than find something ridiculous to do in the interim.  The game was fantastic and the rush of the football season opening was palpable as the entire stadium went through rounds of Texas Fight, The Eyes of Texas, and our usual chants and noises throughout the game.  It will be nice to wake up on Sunday morning with a win; with last season still fresh in my memory, I'll be sure to savor it. 

September 2, 2011

Although a product of the 80s, I wasn't sure whether 80s night was something I should partake in.  For one, I don't remember much music from the 80s.  Further, the 80s are more often the butt of jokes than the object of admiration.  Against my better judgment, I decided to see what it was all about with some of my favorite ridiculous-event-goers.  I say against my better judgment because it seems I have much too much fun at 80s nights.  I found myself unable to contain my enthusiasm tonight and flitted between awesome dance moves faster than Whitney Houston can change her pitch.  I may need a bit of rest before the next go-round, but 80s nights and I may have some more acquainting to do.

September 1, 2011

My love of birthdays is followed closely by my love of people moving into new homes.  Moves tend to be part of a new chapter, fresh start, and exciting new pieces of furniture or home accents.  Danielle recently moved into a swanky new apartment in downtown Austin and I finally got the opportunity to check it out.  Part of the housewarming process is bringing something "warm," so I settled on a bottle of red and a bottle of white wine.  As ladies are wont to do over a few bottles of wine, we ended up on Danielle's patio, chatting, gossiping, and sipping away.  I can't wait to attend the proper housewarming party once her new furniture arrives.  Many congratulations to Danielle on this exciting new chapter of her life!  I'm so proud of you!

August 31, 2011

A year ago today, as I was driving south on Duval, I got a phone call from my Dad.  He was calling to tell me my grandma had passed away.  He had warned me to sit down or, if I was driving, to pull over, but I kept driving.  A few moments after he told me the news, I realized I had come to a stop in the middle of the road with cars starting to line up behind me wondering what I was doing.  I was stunned.  My grandma and I were so very close.  We could talk for hours about anything and everything, and she always knew what was bothering me without my having to say a word.  I miss her more than I can describe; it is amazing how strong the pain remains after a year.  To help ease it, I keep some of her things around me all the time.  This was her rosary; she always had one hanging from her rearview mirror and now this one hangs from mine.  Every time I look at it, I remember how I never understood how she could drive with one of these continuously clacking and wildly swaying from her rearview mirror; the memory always makes me smile.  

August 30, 2011

Can you hear that?  It is the sound of college football season rolling into town with its cheers, boos, trash talk, and, of course, beautiful passes, plays, and touchdowns.  This, my friend, is my favorite sound in the entire world.  At some point in high school, some switch flipped in my head, changing my mid-game banter from: "what's a first down?" to "well, that play didn't make much sense now did it, Greg Davis?"  My love of college football, especially of Texas football, grows exponentially every single season.  The rest of the year is simply filler and ridiculous fluff until fall.  I crave the heartache, the anxiety, the elation, and the bragging rights.  I'm thinking there will be more heartache and anxiety this season than there will be elation and bragging rights, but at the end of the day, it's still all worth it.  Come early, be loud, stay late, and wear burnt orange with pride.  Hook 'em Horns.