Hallowedding

I spent last night in Portland, because I was invited to the wedding of a girl I was best friends with growing up, but who I hadn't seen in about 15 years.



My camera's memory card died as soon as I showed up, and
this was the best my phone could get. Weird Halloween mojo?



It was a very dark and silly ceremony, but a lot of fun. The theme was Halloween, and everyone was encouraged to show up in costumes. I thought about bringing a "date" with me, but then decided I'd go solo, maybe make friends with some of the other Halloweddingers. Halloweddies? No, Hallowedians. I'm going with Hallowedians.*

I went for the easy costume, dressing up my black Marilyn Monroe dress with some tall platform heels and a sparkled/feathered masquerade mask. I looked totally out of place. Most of my fellow Hallowedians were decked out in serious costumes with crazy makeup, all cliqued up together, and taking this as a usual Saturday night with the gang. Me? Not so much.

Just as I was about to give up and go find the nearest gay bar, a few folks came by and said hello to me. As we chatted, another couple joined and introduced themselves. I had found my gang.

After the ceremony, dinner, drinks, and a reunion with the bride and her mom, I was finished with the scene. As I said goodbye to one of my new pals, he pointed out that it was only 10pm and I shouldn't waste the night by going back to my hotel so early. But what could we do? Well, luckily for us, one of his friends was having a house party that I could accompany him to. 

Half an hour later, I was in a random suburban neighborhood of Vancouver, Washington, standing in the garage, holding a big red cup full of vodka and orange juice. Everyone was perfectly nice, but they were also very typical Vancouver peeps. They reminded me of everyone I knew growing up. They reminded me why I moved away and had no desire to go back.

When all was said and done, I woke up with a headache and a serious case of sleep deprivation, happy to get on the freeway. There are few places that make me long to be back in Seattle, but that was one of them. The wedding was a good time and I'm happy that I went, but now... I'm definitely glad to be home.

*Pronounced Ha-Lo-Wee-Jen

Hibernation

It's that time of year again: Autumn. The time when Seattle's cloud cover rolls in and doesn't leave for six months. The time when the men grow facial hair and the women stop shaving their legs. The time when we all slow down, settle into comfortable couples, and hole up at home for the cold days ahead.

At this time of year, everyone's mood gets slightly darker, our love handles get a bit larger, and we sleep a lot more. Some people call it Seasonal Affective Disorder, but if it happens to everyone, is it a disorder? Or just being human?

Humans are, after all, just animals with skinny jeans and Lady Gaga ringtones. All the other animals slow down, take stock of their necessities, and maybe even hibernate their way through winter. Why shouldn't we?

I'm no Tom Cruise, and I don't begrudge treatment to those with serious depression issues. It is a real disorder. However, I think a lot of people expect themselves to be happy all the time, and think that if their life isn't like a beer commercial, there's something wrong with them.

But there just isn't.

I don't have the energy to go into a long rant about pop culture's fuel behind our unrealistic expectations of happiness (look at all those leaves!), nor will I go off about the pharmaceutical industry encouraging medication for non-problems so they can make money (isn't it cold outside?). But I will say this: It's Fall.  We're all anti-social and lazy. Accept it; it's normal. 

So go ahead, stay in and take that nap. It's what Mother Nature intended.

Austin

Today, on my last day in Austin, I finally made it downtown. There wasn't all that much to see, and it being Monday, there wasn't much local culture to soak up either. Even so, I did my best to capture the spirit of the thing.

I wandered around the downtown core for a while, past offices and all the important buildings for civic-type activities (library, courthouse, city museum, capitol building), and drove by the University of Texas campus. The only place I really felt like spending any real time, though, was Stubbs Barbecue.

Stubbs was delicious, and while it was mostly empty in the afternoon, it's apparently a hot spot for live music at night. I sampled the pulled pork sandwich with a side of mac-n-cheese, which was fabulous. Texas BBQ is traditionally served with onions, pickles, and peppers, so I sampled a little of each. Despite my vehement anti-pickle stance in most situations, I have to say they go very well with barbecue sauce. There really is an exception to every rule.

I spent most of my afternoon at Zilker Park in South Austin. The park is enormous (surprise, it's Texas!), and has a trail along the banks of the Colorado River. I ambled down the path a ways, dodging joggers, cyclists, and dog walkers, rarely seeing any other casual walkers like myself. Despite being out of place, I enjoyed the stroll and took a few pictures of the lovely view.

When I had sufficiently walked away my lunch, I hit the road again, battling traffic out to Driftwood and the Salt Lick.

Like Rudy's, the Salt Lick has opened several barbecue joints modeled after the first one, and also like Rudy's, I made the trek to the original. Speeding down a narrow Ranch Road several miles from Austin, I almost missed the small sign marking the Salt Lick's entrance and had to skid dangerously onto the gravel shoulder. Potential rental car damage aside, it was well worth the trip. Inside the restaurant, you can watch your meat cooked over an open pit, and cut fresh from the grill. The ribs and potato salad were both wonderful, and I could eat just about anything dipped in that sauce.

Now I'm back in the 'burbs, tired from the sun and massive quantities of meat, sad that I have to leave tomorrow. I'm debating heading back downtown again to bond with the locals, since that is the one thing I've missed here. On the other hand, I have to get up in 12 hours and my eyes are already trying to close. I just don't know if I have it in me tonight.

Whether I make it back out or not, the trip is a success. I'm glad I arbitrarily decided to come here. Why Texas? Why the hell not?

San Antonio

I've been in Austin for almost 2 days now and I still haven't seen downtown. I spent all day yesterday in San Antonio.

I can't tell you how long the drive took me, but it was relatively smooth sailing. I've discovered that in some states if you don't have exact directions, you can kind of follow the signs and get where you need to go. Not so in Texas. While their highways are wide and basically free of slow-downs despite a lot of traffic, the whole system is extremely confusing, and most major freeways seem to have more than one name or number to them. When in Texas, google your directions. Luckily I did.

Anyway. The first thing I did after parking in San Antonio was wander off to Market Square. This small shopping center really shows off the Mexican presence in the city, with a mix of Tex-Mex in the food stalls, import shops, and football themed gift stores. I had a fantastic burrito for lunch with a huge Dos Equis -- the beer only came in one size, which I believe was called bigger than an effing bucket.



Belly full, I wandered down historic Houston street, running into several tipsy football fans along the way, until I reached the Alamo. After perusing the entire grounds, I realized that the Alamo is nothing like Pee-Wee's Big Adventure, and everything like I remember from ethnic history class in college. The Texas Revolutionaries got their asses handed to them more than once in their attempts to defend the Alamo. These losses were briefly touched upon in the Alamo museum, but the clear focus is on the single battle where they had success... and a hell of a lot of casualties. To be sure, Remember the Alamo really means Remember the time that we finally won.

Next, I strolled along the river walk, pausing in the shade for a few minutes, and soaked up my last bit of San Antonio culture on the walk back to the car. I only saw part of it, but the town seems vintage, historic, a place for tourists. I'm not good at being a tourist, but I was hungry.

Last stop, Rudy's, "the worst bar-b-q in Texas."

Before I left Seattle, Rio pinged a couple of folks she knows who live and work around Austin and San Antonio, to find me the best BBQ in town. They both mentioned Rudy's.

Rudy's has a few locations spread around the area, but the original is an unassuming red building with a couple of smoke stacks. It is located on the side of a small highway, which runs alongside the main highway. It is very much the pride of a small town called Leon Springs, despite its being just on the San Antonio side of the city limits.

Being from a city that features overwhelmingly terrible barbecue, I was expecting to order some kind of sandwich or meal. No. Rudy's offers meat by the pound and a few slices of white bread on wax paper -- make your own damn sandwich if that's what you like -- along with traditional sides like potato salad and mac-n-cheese.

The brisket was tender, flavorful and juicy, and the turkey was amazing, barely a touch of smoke. All the meats are served dry, allowing the customer to add sauce as they see fit. Apparently the sauce or no sauce debate is still raging in Texas, and Rudy's will not make the decision for you. Me, I'm a sauce girl, although I do also love the meat on its own.

I purchased a large bottle of the Rudy's signature sauce, and am now hoping I can get it home intact. I make a great Jewish-style brisket, but I think this sauce would put it over the top, especially alongside my macaroni and cheese made from scratch. Mmmmm... Wait. Am I Southern?

Today, finally to downtown Austin...

Texas

When I told people I was coming to Texas this weekend, they typically responded with an emotion ranging from confusion to disgust, and some form of the question why?

Why not?

Now that I'm here, the more I see, the less I understand people's reaction. Because I was so exhausted when I arrived yesterday, I spent the evening exploring the suburbs around Austin. I didn't want to go farther, since I seemed to get lost every 5 minutes and didn't want my rental car to run afoul of some big Texas truck when I swerved around the city in my confused and sleep deprived haze.

My first impressions of Texas are that the landscape is flat and featureless, the weather is crazy -- it's 85 in October, and the hotel also gave safety instructions in case of tornado, flood, hurricane, and blizzard -- and everything really is bigger. The stores are bigger, the roads are bigger, and there's so much space that you'll drive for 5 minutes through a green pasture between strip malls. The people are generally friendly, and overwhelmingly obsessed with football, the Longhorns being the local squad here in Austin. Barbecue is plentiful, and seems to be more of a way of life than a type of food; there's even beer made from mesquite smoked malt... which is delicious, by the way.

I haven't seen much yet, but so far I kind of dig it here, which makes me a little annoyed at all the Sourpuss Judgersons who questioned my vacation in the Lone Star state. People are often holier-than-thou about the South, Red States, anyone who thinks hybrid motors are a step backward in technology (ie me), and that's just arrogant. And kind of ignorant, to be really honest. Why wouldn't you want to check out everything the world has to offer? You may still hate it and feel superior, but at least you found out for yourself, instead of judging things based on your own narrow world view.

Which is why I'm finishing up my coffee now and hitting the road for San Antonio, to see it for myself.

But the important question is: will I remember the Alamo?