part 2 of 2: halfway into the US past 3 state borders

is a delightful southwestern town where the beer is served cheap and cold and the music played loud and fast. where the frat-boys and hipsters and the clubbers and bipsters roam the streets in harmony and mutual recognition, if not respect.

where people come from toronto to market their cola-liqueur drinks,


and a six foot seven jew (as seen on ricki lake) will freestyle rap for you.


a city definitely not as plastic-surgeried and s.u.v.-ed and reality-television'd as home, one seeming to the lack any of the pretense and glitzy bullshit that comes with living in los angeles. a wonderfully charming city.



we had only one evening, yet how i long to cruise down 6th


and galivant in so-co.


austin, i miss you.


the day after i got back i ran into kristen (an once austinite turned angelino) who asked me half-jokingly if i was going to pack up and move there. i would be lying if i said the thought didn't cross my mind. perhaps the notion i've entertained for so long of settling down and living the sunny california life might not actually come true. having your foundations shattered and living betwixt and between (thank you, linda van leuven) is both scary and exciting.



now i'm home and am experiencing what brooke accurately refers to as the withdrawal stage.


driving halfway across the country stuffed like sardines into a van that sings when the sliding door closes with the best fucking crew in the world.



life doesn't get to be much sweeter.