Miso crafty: Austin Handmade Bash + Cupcake Smackdown

Seeing as how this starts in, oh, an hour (!), I'm a little late in posting this. No matter.

My girl Candace of Electric Promotions has organized the out-of-control (in a good way) All Austin All Handmade Bash, and it looks SO FUN. Music...a fashion show....on-site crafts....a photo booth?? Quel fabuleux. And, entry only $2! Count me in.

I plan to swing by right after R. and I stuff our faces on this or this. Or possibly this. (Just kidding). Details for the All Austin All Handmade Bash here.

Speaking of stuffing face. I got to meet Jennie Chen of MisoHungry fame at the Austin Bleet-Up last Wednesday - where she brought some of her insane cupcakes, the chocolate bacon beer variety! - and we discussed blogging/event planning. Well check out this shindig: The Cupcake Smackdown! It's tomorrow starting at 4pm, and I plan to be there, camera in tow.

This happens at One2One Bar tomorrow, and in addition to a people-eating cupcake contest (heh. You know what I mean but alternative is funny!), there will also be a dog-eating cupcake contest too. Kristen Owen of Do512 is a judge! Details here.

What else is everyone up to this weekend? May fit in 500 Days of Summer if time allows. Freaking move to Austin, Zooey Deschanel.

Craigslist saves the day: TV On The Radio, Missed Connections

This Saturday, TV On The Radio is playing a sold-out show at Stubb's!



You can still get tickets here, at Craigslist. I'm counting 12 offers entered today.

And speaking of Craigslist...

It's been a long time since we've visited Missed Connections here on Austin Eavesdropper, hasn't it? I was at the Statesman Tweetup earlier tonight, and someone asked me if I actually eavesdropped on people. It made me miss my old friends on Missed Connections, that hopeful, oh-so-wistful slice of local internet users who just want to reconnect. "Oh, if only that ice cream server at Amy's knew how I really felt." "Hey, I Heart Video guy, did we, like, totally exchange meaningful glances today?" "Hey hot chik in rd car at Lamar & 6th stoplite u want to get 2gether???"

Let's see what Missed Connections we may or may not be making today. Here's a post that is quite poetically titled: it is called, "the vast blue ocean - 45:"

"It's funny to me that with all of the research done on my background by the both you, ya'll (Yee-Haw!) still only a small fraction(10%) of me without knowing who I am truly am and I am misunderstood completely by everyone. So I am going to shed some light since my greatest strength is remain a introvert...."

Listen up ladies: You may think you know this guy, but you only know 10%. For example, did you know he prefers DIFFERENT varieties of mustard for DIFFERENT moods?

"If I am in a sense of sophistication,then, I like Brown Yellow Mustard on the top bread, Organic Tomatoes, Miracle Whip on the bottom, Lettuce, Bacon, Pepperjack Chesse and finally a little bit of Thousand Island Dressing.

If I am in a sense of normacy, then, I like French's Regular Yellow Mustard on the bottom, Roma Tomatoes, Miracle Whip on the top, Lettuce, and American cheese(shredded).

If am in sense of raunchiness, then, I like Hill Country Yellow Mustard and Mayo on the top and bottom mixed together(but one has to spread one condiment first, then, wash it off with soap, and then use the other since I don't like getting the condiments in each other jars),and lettuce. "

Are you dying right now? I'm dying. Don't you love that the tantalizing combination of Hill Country Yellow Mustard + Mayo = "raunchiness??" (But seriously - wash off the mustard knife before dipping it into the mayo jar. Let's not be savages).

This next post is innocuous-sounding enough - "Professional burnette at Half-Price Books - m4w - 42 (Austin)" - right? But here is the post, in its entirety. It begins with the word "and:"

"And that hourglass magnificent awe-shocking frame(especially those defined thighs) that gravitates me like the aroma of freshly baked homemade chocolate-chip cookies when I come walking into the door. It makes me feel elated."

I bet you didn't see that coming? Peas and carrots, apples and oranges, thighs and cookies. Facts of life, people.

There are more - oh, so many more glorious Missed Connections! - but I'll let you go explore the generous bounty for yourself.

Gotta nominee? Statesman's "Social Media Awards"

A few days ago, Austin freelancer extraordinaire Alex Richmond (who has her own fab blog, Austin is Delicious) let me know that she nominated That Austin Girl for the Texas Social Media Awards, hosted by the Austin American-Statesman. (Thank you, Alex - what an honor!) I wanted to let you all know about the contest too, as the deadline for nominations is today. I think it's great that traditional media is now recognizing the power of bloggers to shape public opinion, get the word out about deserving artists, or rally niche communities' fervor for street fashion, electronic music, vegan cuisine or whatever your personal obsession may be.

If you'd like to nominate someone for these awards, here's a list you can use for reference. So many awesome bloggers in this town. I just went and nominated a few myself! You can do so here.

Attention, Austin Literati: Benjamin Reed and Billy Cope at Cafe Mundi

Confession: I was going to start out this post by saying something to the effect of, "I'm kind of a nerd and love books...." or, "sorry to indulge my dorky side...." but forget all the self-deprecating qualifiers about being a book dork. I admire reading material of all kinds. And I think that those of us who like to read are a rather cool crowd, actually. At one point, I even desired nothing more than to teach the masses Victorian literature...realize now it's kind of strange!....and that's when I wholly embraced the loud-and-proud book thing. The written word is just awesome, or else why would you be sitting here reading this very post?

ANYWAY. It is with great pleasure that I tell you about this reading going on tomorrow night at Cafe Mundi. Ben Reed has not only been twice been nominated for a Pushcart Prize - a really big deal!! - but he was the genius behind The Accidental Gentrifist at Austinist. When I asked about Billy Copa, here is what Ben told me:

"When I met Bill, he was publishing "Welfare Books"- little, matchbook-sized books with 1 short story each. He sold them for a quarter at Star Seeds."

Don't these sound like people you want to meet? You can:

If any other local writers want to publicize their readings, I'm putting the call out now to hit me up. Holler at your girl. Because I would love nothing more than for live readings to become big in this town.

...I am, after all, a book dork.

Spotted: Carlos Santana

"Wait - who reminds me of a west side story?"

That would be "Maria Maria," whose namesake graces Carlos Santana's new group of restaurants. And we gots one, y'all!

I had the pleasure of interviewing Mr. Santana last night at the newly-opened Maria Maria on Colorado. Picture this: soft duck tacos and a white sangria perched in either hand. Me, kneeling adoringly at Santana's feet. He picked a guitar solo for me and only me, nodding his knit beanie in contentment, as I swayed gently to his "ritmo".....

Ok ok. I was actually packed in a room with 20 other reporters. We each strained to hear what Santana was saying, and all I caught were snippets as he addressed the throng of us: "One family," "Not Taco Bell," and "Barack Obama." America, Carlos Santana would like you to know that there is one family - not the Taco Bell family, though - and that's the Barack Obama family. It's like he's a modern prophet.

Austin is one of four cities in the U.S. lucky enough to get a Maria Maria, which is basically high-end Mexican food. The menu has a few surprises, however, like the Cinnamon Brioche French Toast (served during weekend brunch only: Take french toast, which is usually pretty unreal all by itself, then top it with with baked apples and Mexican cinnamon and maple syrup and whipped cream - OMG!). Austinite Roberto Santibanez, former executive chef at Fonda San Miguel, helped develop the menu and is putting his own spin on it. Remember the blackberry-infused mole sauce at Fonda's Sunday brunches? It is now reincarnated at Maria Maria, on the Braised Short Ribs. To my delight, I should say.

Anyway, in between all the fanfare I asked Santana what his favorite home-cooked meal was. Any guesses? Chili relleno. Austin, would you like to hear what's inside Maria Maria's signature chile relleno? I'm reading the menu, and it's making me want to cry I want it so bad: "Ancho chilis stuffed with roasted zucchini, red onions and potatoes served over melted cheese and roasted tomato chipotle sauce topped with crispy sweet potatoes and zucchini." Nom nom nom!

I also got to meet Joe Gross from the Statesman and Austin Music Source, as well as the lovely Addie Broyles, new food writer for the Statesman (who took over Dale Rice's spot). She did a great write-up of the event last night, and I'm going to steal one of her pictures too:


Jokes aside, Carlos Santana is an absolutely warm and spiritual creature, and I savored the few seconds I got to chat with him. Besides being kind of a crazy entrepreneur, what with the shoes and now the restaurants, he is politically-engaged and activist-oriented. He referenced Bob Marley many times, and weaves Marley-isms ("one family," "one world," etc.) into his verbiage. I thought he was delightful.

Austin: What celeb do you want to open up a restaurant here next?

Dwight Schrute comes to Austin

Here's some food for thought:

"Where do spirituality and creativity meet?"

That's the big question Rainn Wilson (a.k.a Dwight Schrute on "The Office"), whom I had the pleasure of meeting today, wants to know.



I rarely talk about work on this blog, but for my 9-to-5, I'm a publicist. Rainn swung into town today to give the keynote talk for Lotus Night, a charity event my company helped publicize. Anyway, during our chat, he mentioned his new project "Soul Pancake," which looks pretty interesting.

See, Rainn wants to "de-lamify" talking about God and religion. (Did you know Rainn talked about God at all? As a matter of fact, he does). He wants to do away with the "airy-fairy," "hippie dippie" (his clever words, not mine) flavor of modern spirituality, and instead, start asking big questions. ("QUESTION." as Dwight would say). Soul Pancake is his place to get that started, and it's supposed to be a social networking site where spiritually- and intellectually-curious minds (Bahá'í-curious?) can hash it out.

Rainn also wants to talk about spatulas.

As you can see, Rainn is a pretty cool dude.

And as for me, Reader - I'm squeezing in a little disco nap after this busy day. And then momentarily, it's off to Car Stereo Wars!

Ode to Hancock Center H-E-B

I must be about to get my period (sorry) because I just had the most emotionally rewarding experience at the H-E-B.

Ok, so, Hurricane Ike is happening right now:



(P.S. - Leave it to the NY Times photo journalist crew to make a natural disaster look so breathtakingly artsy!)

As a result, many Houston and Galveston evacuees have fled to Austin, where the weather here is relatively stable. As such, our neighborhood H-E-B has been packed with confused out-of-towners.

"Excuse me, where are your bottled waters?"

"Is there a cell phone store nearby?"

"Do you know how to get to "Man-chac-a" Street?"

I don't know if it's the spirit of Texans to rise above adversity, or the fact that H-E-B employees are just so damn odd and charming, or (most likely) the afore-mentioned womanly reason, but everyone was in, like, the best mood at the grocery store this morning!

"Ok....GUYS....should we get some ham? To make......." (dramatic pause)...

That was a goofy Houston dad at the deli counter this morning, wearing an Astros shirt, with his two little kids in tow. I imagine that evacuating one's city and sitting on the highway for 8-10 hours is probably somewhat of a tense experience, and yet, here was this cool dad who probably did exactly that, getting his kids all pumped up about some ham.

...."sandwiches?!?"

"YEAH! Let's get ham!!" These are his little kids, who are quite literally getting worked up into a frenzy over Boar's Head honey maple ham.

"Ok! Ok. Ma'am, hi, excuse me? We need to get a sample of ham. We need to," (turns to wink conspiratorially at kids), "test it."

The kids are now shrieking with giggles, barely able to suppress their delight that their daddy just tricked the deli lady into giving them a sample.

"WHOA! This is some HAM! Am I right, guys? Am I right??"

Would you believe me if I said his kids were double-fist-pumping the air right now?

"We'll take ONE! POUND!"

And then, I kid you not, his kids started jumping up and down.

Oh dear reader, I wish you could have been there. It's not an exaggeration to say I was very nearly moved to tears by this grocery store tableau. It was pretty freaking precious, I'm not going to lie.

And it doesn't stop there.

Alright, so the poor H-E-B employees - R. was there yesterday, and he said there were check-out lines stretching down into the aisles. You know all those people had to work late yesterday, especially since H-E-B is a 24-hour operation. So I'm pushing my little cart to the check-out, still dazzled by goofy, feel-good Houston Dad, but bracing myself for a surly checker. Because they are probably underslept and tired. But instead, I got the most amazing service.

"Well hey pretty lady! How you doin today!"

That was my checker, as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (pause: weird expression? Are we talking about squirrels here? Is rodent analogy?) as you can be. I thought about it, and told her I was doing alright. And herself?

"I'm hangin in there, thanks for asking! You got any plans tonight?"

I told her about Dana's party tonight, and that we will be going karaoke-ing.

"Aw man! That's fun! Is it a birthday?"

I told her indeed it was, good guess!

"Hey, Rita - she's going to go karaoke-ing tonight!!"

By now a second checker, Rita, has wandered over, to get in on this crazy conversation.

"Oh girl, for serious! What are you singing??"

I sheepishly admitted that Fergie is sorta my go-to, precisely because she does not sing, but spells things. (At least Fergie circa 2006-07 did).

"Aw, lady!" (Back to original checker now), "You're going to be the best one up there!"

Now, based on appearances alone, this prediction was, shall we say, unwarranted. I was (still am) looking about as unimpressive and non-diva-like as you can get - wearing the shirt I wore last night which has a wine stain on it, yoga pants, and flip-flops, and sporting as my friend Rob would call it, "David Lee Roth hair."

But it made me happy anyway. These girls made me feel like a semi-celebrity, just for chatting it up at the check-out line. And, and - this, after all employees worked late, crazy hours last night.

So, Hancock Center H-E-B, it's official: you've stolen my heart.

And I'm totally coming to buy Midol from you in a few days.

There's only one way to show the economy who's boss: Alcohol

I'm giggling at this story by Adam Geller at Associated Press, which ran in the Statesman today. He writes:

"In the past few weeks, scattered reports have noted that alcohol sales are up [...] The new figures have revived the thinking that when Americans are taking it on the economic chin, they keep a firm grip on the bottle."

I wonder if Austinites are immune to this trend or not. Overall, we are not a stressed-out people (see: Matthew McConaughey). But then, maybe it's a chicken-or-egg situation: Perhaps we are not stressed out precisely because we're already buzzed?

When I get anxious and annoying, I usually call my mom. Did I mention that I'm twelve? I know that many of you take your stress out in ways that don't involve your parents, though: A nice long run, a well-placed expletive to your fellow motorists, a feminine wash of tears (actually, can relate to all of these tactics too).

So here is my question, Austinites: Taxed by a bad economy or bad other circumstances, do you "comfort drink?"

Roar Salon

So, I spoke with Rory McNeill yesterday of Roar Salon. Before I give him a proper welcome to That Austin Girl however, I want to just say...holy freak, the space is beautiful. And Rory is a doll!

Has anyone been here before? My heart (er, hair) lies with Vain, but I'm curious to know if any Austin ladies or super hip gentleman have already been to Roar. Yes?

Interestingly enough, a girlfriend and I gawked inside the windows like peeping toms once, about a month ago, stumbling back to our cars from 4th St...let me just say that sober and in the daylight, it is even lovelier.

A reasonable request

Ok y'all, remember how we were talking about the insanity of Austin Craigslist? And specifically, the charming missed connections? Here's another missed connection, from today.

As you'll read below, this one is not so much of the wistful and romantic sort but more like an incredulous, losing-my-patience announcement.

A girl writes to her crazy neighbor: STOP RUSTLING AROUND WITH YOUR BLACK PLASTIC BAGS IN THE MORNING! I don't think it's too much to ask.

Austin Craigslist girl, you have the floor:

"Dear guy, I really don't know where to start here....."

(Ok, pause. Are you loving it already?? She has had it. Can't you just see her punching the keys on her computer all pissed off? Heh. Carry on):

"For the past three months you have disturbed me....While it may be that you are the one disturbed I must confess that you are interrupting my morning. I choose 7:30 as my time to meditate and journal....have done so for the past several months in peace....until you came along. I have no idea what it is that you are doing, but every single morning at about the same time you rustle around with these mysterious plastic black bags....If I didn't hear that they sound as though they are full of aluminum cans then I would surely have alerted the authorities in response to the nature of your morning rituals....You open and slam your little car's doors over and over again...sometimes without doing anything at all, other times pulling out or shoving in these twelve or so bags....Now since you disturb my peaceful consumption of coffee and news I have to wonder what on earth it is that you are trying to accomplish. You go up and down the stairwell several times to your apartment, each time you go up you stand at the foot of the stairs and look up for several seconds....I often wonder if you are counting in your head the number of times that you've gone up and down the stairs, or maybe the stairs that your feet have climbed or descended that particular morning...exercise routine, maybe? I never come away with an answer. You always seem to have extra bags in your car that you pull out and shake loudly to open them up to the wind.....next you take them upstairs where, I am guessing, you have a bedroom full of the aluminum? If I were a paranoid sort I would think that maybe you have somehow found a way to kill off your neighbors ( yes, I do know that a few of them are empty-headed oxygen suckers ) and ultra-size them into the cans or whatever is in the bags....

Anyway, I am not trying to bother you, but could you please keep it down?....seriously all of that rustling around with the bags is really distracting....I have a hard enough time getting up without having to decipher what it is that you are doing.....for God's sake I am about to start school again and I just can't handle the fugitive-like movements of your mornings....

thanks,

from the girl in the building across from you....and no, I won't tell you which building.....happy bagging to you."

I love the "fugitive-like movements of your mornings." Seriously dude, stop being so OCD! Because I really think that's what we're dealing with here.

Austin Craigslist continues to be a generous bounty. Forget our city's adorably quirky local businesses - these are the people keeping Austin weird.

One-Eyed Doll + more neato Austinites

So tonight was Rene G's b-day at Melting Pot, and I met 7 new Austinites to get excited about.  These include: 

-Kimberly Freeman, front girl of Austin power-rock duo One-Eyed Doll

-Daniel Upton, artist and owner of local tattoo outfit Golden Apple Studio

-Andre and Leigh de la Reza, the firefighting, twin-raising, bagpipe-playing, attorney-performing duo behind local blog Casa de Monos 

-Nicole Hommertzheim, Kansas native and design/managment assistant to Rene Geneva (am I spelling your last name right, Nicole?)

-Kathy Oglebay, sign language teacher and regional retail buyer at Whole Foods.  Neat story: Kathy started out bagging groceries at WF, and now, she's a fashion buyer for the store - the one who works directly with Rene, as a matter of fact.

-Darren Minke, local artist who does everything from digital art, to stain painting, to film and animation.  Check out his cache of work here.

I checked out One-Eyed Doll's website as soon as I got home, and their music is freaking rad - think Pixies + Veruca Salt.  They are about to go on a UK tour, but before they do, they're having an Austin send-off at Red-Eyed Fly on Sept. 12.  I will definitely be there. 

Lots of neat tidbits from tonight that I'll try to fit in over the next few days - for example, did you know that Whole Foods offers "Tours for Value Shopping?"  (Thanks for that one, Kathy!)  It's this thing where a Whole Foods employee will personally take you around the store and show you how to shop without going broke.  Who says Whole Foods is only for the green elite?

I heart Sarah Dean

So, I just interviewed Sarah Dean for Rare about 15 minutes ago. Sarah is a vintage stylist, and girlfriend does some kickass work. I was so enchanted by her company that I had to come tell you guys about her.







Pretty rad, right? I have to save the nitty gritty for the actual story in Rare's fashion issue (November), but I can tell you this: not only is Sarah a talented stylist with bang pow clothing taste, she shared an awesome idea while we were talking.  An idea I really hope materializes: wearing no new clothes for an entire year.

It's more than just wearing her old, pre-existing duds.  Like, I have to save money, so I won't go shopping for a year and I'll keep doggedly wearing these 2006 skinny jeans the whole time dammit. It's much cooler than that, because actually, she can still go shopping - however, all purchased items must have previously belonged to different owners. So for one twelve-month period, her body shall don only second-hand, be it vintage Dior or Salvation Army girl scout uniforms.

Isn't that a cool idea? She wants to document it too, through a blog or website. In addition to being a "vintage" effort, it's a green one too, which just makes the whole thing that much more Austin-fabulous.  So Sarah: do it, lady!

Switching subjects - sort of, since this actually ties into Sarah too - have you guys ever heard of this book?



Garlic and Sapphires was probably the best book I read last year. It's written by Ruth Reichl, former food critic for the New York Times, who documents the way she conducted her restaurant reviews - in disguise.  

See, clever Ruth knew that every restaurant she visited would put on this big production if the Food Critic for the New. York. Times was in attendance, so she visited each restaurant one time as herself, and one time dressed up as somebody completely different.

Anyway, one of Ruth's favorite disguises for herself was a character she invented named Brenda. "Brenda" had bright red hair, dressed in loud, colorful clothes, wore a big smile and laughed at everything.  Ruth describes her as the "best possible version" of herself.  And you know, that's exactly who Sarah reminded me of: Brenda.  Right down to the red hair.  

If you guys met Sarah, I think you would agree that she's the best possible version of somebody, too: funny and self-deprecating, open and kind.  I wrote down everything she said, because she was so effortlessly quotable (a rare luxury, truthfully, in any interview.  Instead of having to tease clever, quippy sentences out, I couldn't keep up with the great stuff she said.  "The first time I saw a vintage Barbie as a kid, I knew I wanted to dress like a cupcake every day."  "I never met a floral pattern I didn't like." - Love?) 

Anyway, when I told Sarah she reminded me of Brenda, Brenda who was Ruth's favorite disguise, outgoing in her personality and clothes, Sarah had a great response.  "Well, why didn't she dress like that every day?"

Nick Hornby, Marc Summers, and the Wink

I felt a little mean and bitter for publicly chastising two whole demographics in Austin last week - douche bags and Hobby Lobby employees - so I wanted to tell you guys about someone I do like, for a change.



I've read most of Nick Hornby's books, although this is one is a little obscure. Doesn't it look like it came out in the 70s? (Try 2006. The publisher is hip little McSweeney's, headquartered in San Francisco, hence the coolly retro cover design). Anyway, it's a series of columns he wrote for the Believer about books and reading, all the while mocking the uber-pretentious staff at the Believer, but the subject matter's not important. Nick Hornby can write about pretty much anything as long as I get to hang out for a while, because he's so damn funny. Love you, Nick.

I was at the gym tonight reading Housekeeping Vs. The Dirt, laughing in such a way as to incur the envious sideways glances of my fellow elliptical exercisers, when someone flipped the overhead television channel to the Food Network.

Guys, do you remember Marc Summers? Double Dare? I remember when R. once told me Mark Summers had obsessive compulsive disorder, thinking, "cool. When's dinner?" Because the irony of Marc Summers' plight never struck me until tonight. Imagine: it's your job to work with cascading buckets of slime, and you have OCD. Does God hate you? When I saw his face forcibly grinning back at me from Food Network's Unwrapped - the show about candy factories, not as exciting as you'd think, not nearly as awesome as Double Dare - I saw, well maybe I'm imagining it. But I think I saw a little bit of Marc Summers' despair. "Help! I am obsessed with order and cleanliness, and someone's forcing me to host shows about slime and molten chocolate!!" Seriously, who's doing this to Marc?

Also at the gym - 24 Fitness at Hancock Center, by the way - there's a dude working the front desk who looks exactly like my sweet gay friend Jeff. His face and demeanor remind me so much of Jeff, in fact, that I've been pretending he is, sort of - exchanging little banter while he scans my card, waving goodbye when I leave the gym. But I think he's straight, not gay as I had hoped, because he's taken to flirting a bit (and R. - hi! - note the "he," not "we" in that sentence).

How do I know? I got a wink tonight. Jeff would never wink. Jeff's way too cool to wink, and besides, he would only do it to pretty boys if he was forced to.

This changes everything about Guy at Gym. Namely, his sexuality.

Hobby Lobby employees are a little dead inside

I have a question for you guys. Why are the employees at Hobby Lobby so pissed off? Specifically, the one on Lamar and 183. I went there yesterday to get supplies for one of these:



I know, cute right. You know how jewelry often ends up spread out on a dresser, on top of bills and old Pirates of the Caribbean ticket stubs and whatever? And you inevitably "lose" your favorite hoop earrings when they're really just tangled up in a bra? That's what this is supposed to stop. Thanks Martha!

Anyway, I'm at Hobby Lobby, where nothing is labeled. But that's alright. What's not alright is how mad they get when you ask them where stuff is. Take this exchange:

"Hi! Could you tell me where wooden shadow boxes are?"

"All of our shadow boxes are with frames."

"Great. Where are the frames?"

(Dramatic rolling of eyes) "Around the CORNER."

Now, I accept some responsibility here - maybe if I had kept on walking, I would have run into the frames area, and eventually the shadow boxes. About 5 minutes later though, I was looking for something kind of obscure - sawtooth hangers - and saw a different employee walking by.

"Excuse me, ma'am!"

(Woman keeps walking, does not turn around.)

"Hi, hey - do you work here?" (Run a little to catch up to her)

"Yes."

"Do you know where basic hardware is? Specifically, sawtooth hangers, for mounting artwork on the wall."

"That's like..." - sigh - "...on the complete opposite side of the store."

"Alright. Near the bathrooms? Near the scrapbooking stuff?"

"Over there. Where I'm pointing." (Gestures vaguely, indeed, to the "opposite" side of the store, indicating with her hand that I shall find hardware somewhere in between party favors and foliage, because those are the two ends of the entire west wall. Oh, I see now! Like, in this quadrant of the store, I'll find something that's about the size of a nail! Great, thanks!)

Hey Hobby Lobby, if you don't want customers asking silly questions, how about labeling the f^*ing store. "Wood." "Paint." "Yarn." Things like that.

Maybe it's because crafty women seem so nice, as a general demographic - old ladies with their knitting needles, teachers with their iron-on watermelon decals, moms with their driveway chalk for the kiddos - that I expect these kind of people to staff Hobby Lobby. But that would be a wrong assumption. A complete opposite assumption. Dawn B. at Yelp Austin put it so much better than I about a month ago:

"this hobby lobby is the suck. but not in the good way. the employees are all dead. no one wants to help you. i think they were all hiding as i saw no one working the sales floor."

Hee. Seriously though - why so grumpy-pants, HL employees?

Go hide your shame

There's a really sweet woman here in the neighborhood who used to work at FreshPlus grocery story. Then, she moved across the street to be the checkout at Pronto (a gas station). For a few years now, I've called her: "Cancer Survivor." Or, on occasion, "Chemo Patient."

Now before you go getting all horrified, let me explain. Without fail, this lady always wears a scarf on her head. And not in a Nicole Richie, ooh look at me I'm-a-haute-couture-hippie way (think bandana, not Hermés). She also wears long sleeves and pants all the time, as if cold - even in summer! - and doesn't wear any makeup, ever. Plus, she just has the look of a strong, indomitable spirit. You know what I mean? Like, "child, I seen things you never should."

Now, taken together, these observations clearly do not diagnose someone with cancer. But when I first met her, my fanciful mind got to working, and...well. It was a private observation. A ridiculous jump to more absurd conclusion. And thus = "Cancer Survivor" was born.

I never really told anyone, until I told R., and now he views her with the same (perhaps unwarranted?) admiration I do. Sometimes, when we see her at Pronto, we exchange knowing looks that say, "what a courageous, unyielding soul."

(Sidenote: Cancer Survivor actually got held up at gunpoint in Pronto last summer, if you can believe it. R and I's first reaction to the news: "but she's already been through so much!")

So anyway, this pillar of a lady, this beacon of hope in a world so dark, is totally not the type to chit-chat about, oh, day-long male erections. Or so I thought.

I'm at Pronto yesterday, filling my car up with 1/10 a tank of gas or something - OPEC, can you hear me? WTF? - and walk inside to pay for it.

"Hi there, honey!" Cancer Survivor, suppressing a giggle.

"Hey! Just $10 on number 5, please."

Giggle. Sideways glance at female coworker. Giggle giggle.

"Honey, question for you. How would you react if a man, a man you knew and had been hanging out with, had an erection. For - hold on, let me tell her! -six to eight hours?"

Furrow brow, really consider it. "Run?" I offer.

"See, exactly Honey!" Turning to coworker, presumably the one with the, er, "situation."

"I would tell that man to stay indoors!" Finger is up and wagging now, scolding this invisible man with the offensive penis.

"No, 'oh WOW this is so amazing' about it! No! I would tell that man to get away from me. To get out of public, and to go hide your shame."

You can't put a price tag on sage wisdom like that.

Surprise: No baby!

Like many gals in their twenties, I've wasted hundreds of dollars in the past few years performing at-home pregnancy tests. The kind where you pee on a stick, and with my brand of choice, wait for a plus or minus sign. (Which, evaluating for a moment: is the stick innocently implying a "positive" for pregnancy with a plus sign, like yes-you-are-pregnant-congratulations-new-mommy!! Or, far more likely, mocking me with that pink, ironic, smear of a math symbol? Like yes-you-are-PLUS-ONE-sucka! I can't decide).

It's not that I'm careless. I've taken the Pill for years (minus the days I forgot, and take four at once). Recently, I got a far more permanent option - well, 10 years permanent anyway - and suddenly have no period. Am I pregnant? Who knows! It's the female body, where anything can happen.

Whenever I get bloated - which is often, I blame tofu - I think I have a special somebody living inside my womb. Hello, food baby! Wait - are you a real baby?

Also, when I'm fatigued/grouchy/nauseous, I think, "oh dear - here comes the morning sickness." Even when it is midday, and definitely not morning. This happened once when I got off a plane in Miami, met up with a fellow attendee for a bachelorette party, and told her I threw up in the airport. "Are you pregnant?" She asked. Well, given the circumstances, I sure as hell hope not. "I'm sorry, sweetie. Mommy gave you a second head when she once drank 4 vodka tonics in an hour while wearing a necklace of plastic penises."

What a touching story.

Anyway, seeing as how I'm one to jump to conclusions - baby conclusions - I did become slightly concerned when my period recently went missing for two months. Yoohoo, period! Like a well-meaning but ANNOYING neighbor, I actually wouldn't mind if it packed up and left for good. Off to Florida with you. Maybe that's what I meant when I accidentally wrote on the blank titled "First day of your last menstrual cycle?" on the form at the gyno's office today: "4/7/1982." The nurse was confused, until I calmly explained that I reached menopause at birth. "Oh," she said, eying my leerily. Who let this freak in?

But enough with jokes. She ran a test. I'm not pregnant. Which makes sense, because I am - say it with me - on birth control! Have been, for years! Babies need not apply. This is a fetus-free zone. There shall be no infants passing through these loins. Got it, babies?

At least, until I want a little R. of my own.

Whoever invented ice cream deserves to be thanked

Last night, R. and I went to visit a friend of ours who fell off a cliff recently. I'm not making that up. But don't worry - he's ok, and in fact, went back to work today.

Anyway, while we were at his place, we played a little game: it was Memorial Day, so we went around remembering the best inventions ever. Here are some we came up with:

Ice cream
We live in Texas. But even if we didn't: is there any pleasure as fleeting and wonderful? (And don't even start with your dirty minds). Plus, Jeanie eats ice cream.

Laptop computers
A legion of coffee shop franchise owners would agree with me.

The talkies!
Meaning, movies with sound. I suppose one could be more all-encompassing and simply say "film," but given how grand that innovation was, how easy would it have been to stop there and say, "ok - I think we're good." So this one's for the gentleman/lady who pressed on for improvement: well done, good Sir. Madame. Genius that you are.

The toilet
I mean, right?

Internet
True, it's a double-edged sword. But the one edge is really, really sharp and good. Before 1994, would you have ever figured out whether or not Michael Jackson is truly saying "...but the chair is not my son" in "Billie Jean?" (He's not). Or, written a paper about South Africa without first marching to your public library's card catalogue? I rest my case.

Those are a few we tossed around, with the one criterion that the invention had to be dramatically life-changing. What are yours?