Okay, not really. But here is the final story & skit from my Stool Pigeon appearance last week. Personally it's my favorite.

This is also the video we will be projecting on the wall of the Buffet Palace in Killeen, while I play "Apologize" on the piano in the parking lot and Mopdog Cashmoney wears a sandwich board that says "It's too late!" and rings a bell.

Tonight I managed to pull off a coup that even I didn't think was possible. But to explain this story I will need to back up to Sunday of this week, when I was still stinging from not having scored tickets to the debates and also not having gotten a VIP ticket to the rally.

I went to have a few drinks with some people, including Gingy, at the new Trudy's in South Austin. I was sitting at the bar, bemoaning the story of the VIP tickets, asking her how anyone could pass me up for VIP tickets when my license plates say "OBAMA" on them. She was listening sympathetically to the story when the bartender said "You know he's coming to Texas State on Wednesday." I kind of scoffed, saying that I wouldn't be able to get in anyway and he said "I can get you in."

Turns out the bartender, Courtney, is also the president of the Texas State Democrats and was coordinating the event. In other words, the man with the plan. He said that he could get me up close with a volunteer pass and that I'd have a good chance of getting to meet Obama. Naturally, I told him just to let me know when and where. The event hadn't been announced yet on Sunday, and he also asked me to keep quiet about it. He said that he only was telling me because he could tell how passionate I was about it from my ranting about all of the rallies and whatnot. So I haven't been able to mention it until now but I have been thinking about tonight all week!

Tonight after work I drove to San Marcos. The drive could not have been better and it only took me about forty minutes to get there and park (most of that was getting out of my neighborhood). I hopped on a shuttle from Bobcat Stadium which took me to the event grounds and deposited me at the end of the world's longest line. The line wrapped around a whole city block, if not more. Meanwhile, Courtney had told me if I didn't get there before 8:15 he might not be able to come out and get me.

So I asked him if I cut the line if he could come get me, and sure enough he did. I used his name like a password, telling anyone who tried to stop me that "Courtney told me to." Finally I made it to the main entry point, where Courtney appeared and gave me a volunteer pass and a Precinct Captain button.


He then said that he would see me later, as he had some more slightly important things to do (like preparing to introduce the future president of the United States). I wandered towards the main bridge that you had to get across in order to get to the volunteer area and was then stopped by secret service.

It was there that I ran into Zach, whom I will admit to him and the world was the bane of my existence in high school. We called him "Creepy Guy" because, well, he was creepy. He wrote weird notes and signed them "Simple Simon" and stared at me all day. He turned out into less of a creep, and what was really comical to me was that he had absolutely no idea who I was, even after I told him my name. After about ten minutes of standing there with secret service, he finally turned to me and said "Did I buy you lunch in 9th grade without you knowing it?" When I said "YES," the lightbulb finally went off.

Eventually Secret Service let us cross over this small bridge that went to the inner circle of land that surrounded the stage (this was a really strange venue that had a small creek running through it so most people stayed on the other side of the creek).


I sidled up to the railing and was feeling pretty good about where I was standing. I was actually in front of the token sign wavers who were seated in bleachers behind where Obama would speak.

Tonight at trivia, I was actually recognized. By a stranger. As in, someone said to me "Hey you did a great job in Stool Pigeon the other night."

Naturally I decided that it was essential that I record Pat for posterity and as proof. And, some good news -- Team "All Our Friends are Getting Married, We're Just Getting Drunk" came in 4th tonight. This means either we are getting better or the questions are getting worse.

---

For all the new readers, I have put up the long-awaited cast of characters which somewhat explains most of the aliases and people I mention regularly. I know people have been wanting this for a while now (and by people I mean Rooroo), so hopefully you enjoy. You can find the link to the list in the sidebar underneath my profile picture.

1. Fractions. WTF?
2. Austin traffic. Tonight I made it from Bee Caves to Far West in about 5 minutes at around 6:10 PM, without ever hitting the brakes or going below 65 mph. I'm not complaining but why can't every day be like that?
3. SXSW. Why can't I buy one freaking ticket to the Ingrid Michaelson show at The Parish? I don't want to go to the entire two months of South By or however long that festival is that jams up our entire city's traffic grid. I just might want to go to one goddamn show.
4. Optimism. Who has time for that?
5. Why they took the piano out of Meow. Where the f. am I going to go listen to Billy Joel now, Marc Katz? Jesus.
6. Jesus. I was never baptized. Have I mentioned that once or twice? Last week at trivia one of the questions was "How many people were alive when Jesus was on the earth?" For some reason all this time I thought that Jesus was still more or less regarded as a potentially unscientific, made up thing, like God creating the humans or something. Mmmm...turns out I was wrong.
7. Why I still sound/look/feel like I'm hungover when I go out and don't drink. Anyone?
8. The Houston Chronicle. Really, guys? How can you endorse a candidate by the wrong name who also has zero funding and put up essentially a few sentences that read more like a bio than an endorsement. I will continue to take satisfaction isn the fact that old media is dying and no one reads the paper anymore. Meanwhile, the Democrats of CD10 can continue to shoot themselves in the foot by rallying behind someone who has traipsed around the Euphrates with his Blackberry instead of actually realizing that someone with experience and funding is more likely to unseat a Republican in November.
9. Leap Years. Can someone please explain? Again?
10. My ability to function off of 5 hours of sleep or less per night.

Today as I was driving to go volunteer, I was listening to 95.5 (stop laughing, I can't resist Piano Man) and they announced that they were giving away two tickets to see Andre Watts with the Austin Symphony at the Riverbend Church.

So I immediately dialed the radio station. The phone started ringing. I got excited thinking "Sweet! I actually got through." Then...the DJ answered and said "Caller #1!" and hung up on me. They were looking for Caller #5.

I was officially Caller #1 for a contest giving away tickets to see a piano player at a church. I'm honestly amazed they were giving the tickets away in pairs instead of singles. Caller #1. And by "caller #1" I mean "the #1 lamest person in town." Lamest person #5 actually won the tickets.

Oh - also - dad, please don't substantiate my lameness by feeling sorry for me and offering to take me.

Last night was interesting. Given the fact that I had absolutely no idea what stories I was going to tell until about 5 PM yesterday, it went pretty well. I was nervous at first but not nearly as nervous as I was at the piano recital.
Cashmoney was kind enough to video the entire thing, on the grounds that I would stop calling her "Mopdog." She did a fabulous job and also got a 24-hour turnaround on them. Which is funny because Trainer McD and Gingy ended up on the same flight back to Austin today and, I am told, when they ran into each other and were bemoaning having missed the event they said "It'll be on YouTube by the time we land." So true, so true.

I am still missing one of the stories because she filmed it on Tall Rachel's camera and Tall Rachel has been in hiding all day (no doubt due to a hangover from last night -- we've all been there!). But I have the first parts and will update accordingly.

Thanks to ColdTowne Theater and Chris Trew for inviting me. You guys were hilarious and I have never seen such a dead-on recap of a Texas Gulf Coast vacation. Also, thanks to everyone who came out (including the elusive Reader #8 and her friends)! I had a great time!

Without further adieu:

I wanted to write about the Austin Obama rally that I went to on Friday night. I went and had dinner with Tall Rachel, Mopdog and AJ "I Don't Want This Night To End." So I was running a little late in getting to the rally, but I managed to find parking fairly easily off of 15th Street and make my way down to 11th.

It was in front of the Capitol, and the crowd (I heard 40,000 and 20,000 but I'm not sure what the real number was) had backed up all the way up 11th Street. I was so far away that Obama was hardly visible, just a tiny figure moving about in the floodlights.

He was already talking when I got there, about the usual punch list: health care, Iraq & its wounded soldiers, the economy. I felt myself somewhat glazing over -- it certainly wasn't the intimate setting that I'd seen him in the night before (Ed. note: I am now in possession of the video of Obama's speech from that night, thanks to the tenacity of the piano playing legislative aide, and working on uploading it, as it is 713 MB. I will put it up ASAP).

$2 actually scored 3 VIP tickets to the event, and got some great pictures. You guys might be wondering why $2 didn't give one of those tickets to me, the person who went to the Obama rally a year ago with him and bought the OBAMA plates at his insistence. That is a great and worthy question. I am mad at him for it. However, you can see his pictures here.

From my far-off place in the crowd, in the last ten minutes of his speech, I listened as Obama picked things up a bit. He started ranting about people calling him a liberal and finally seemed as though he was impassioned about the speech. This was the sort of speech I'd been waiting to see since February of last year. This clip shows the last ten minutes, which is exactly when I finally got it.




I realized as he spoke that the anger that I was always looking for when Obama spoke is not his nature. He stands for something else: peace. He delivers his speeches like he's telling a story. While he talked about the original patriots and World War II, I heard his words echoing off the walls of the Capitol, and I imagined a man, holding a book up and turning each page through history. Obama is telling the story and he is the only candidate prepared to turn the page. He hopes to write a new story in the pages of history: a story of perseverance and struggle and ultimately peace.

As the speech ended and everyone began to shuffle off, I looked down at the sidewalk I had been standing on and smiled. There, written in the concrete, was one small message of hope. No date was given as to when the messenger had written it, but there it was, some person's swelling desire for one thing, left behind for someone to come across someday.

Obama will deliver this. Like the person who wrote in the concrete, we have all been holding on to one last shred of desire for peace. This is something that no amount of corrupt politicians and war-torn families and deployments has taken from us, bit by bit. But Obama will bring it back.

Watching the debate tonight at the Texas Democratic Party's event, I could only think about one thing:

It is so goddamn refreshing to listen to two people talk who do not seem offended by the questions being posed. Or irritated that we would not want to be mired in a war. Or stumbling over their words and reaching for answers that don't exist.

Our eight-year itch has never been more bothersome. A lame-duck president who was never any good to begin with is finally, almost out of the White House and coming back to Crawford, Texas. And that, as one of the speakers tonight, House Democratic leader Jim Dunnam said, "is good for America."

No matter what side of the democratic ticket you're on in this primary, things are looking up for November. We have intelligent, well-spoken candidates who both strongly believe in their platforms and policies. Who can fault either of them on that basis alone?

I have to admit that Clinton didn't have the usual repellent quality that I associate with her. Maybe it was just the fact that she seemed to be more on the ball with her answers for the first half of the debate than Obama, or that I merely will accept anyone other than Bush. However, she did start to lose some of her support in the crowd I was in when she pulled the "change you can Xerox" line. She attacked on the wrong thing -- if she had attacked Obama for his lack of experience, she would have been better off. Instead, she attacked Obama's ideals which, as we all know, is pretty much a losing game. That's like telling a kid that there's no Santa Claus. Her attack gave Obama the open door to start proselytizing his message of hope and he seemed to take over from there.

Either way, I feel okay about the future of our country. I'm not quite ready to join the rest of my family members on Team - The World Is Getting Better, but I at least can look forward to watching one of the two eloquent, smart speakers we had tonight address the nation for the next four years.

Below is the speech that Hillary Clinton gave after the debate when she stopped by the watch party. My Barack Obama speech hangs in the balance of a fellow piano-playing legislative aide whose camera I commandeered when mine, as per usual, ran out of gas. However, I told him that I expected a 24-hour turnaround (I am a bit concerned as he mentioned he'd never used YouTube before but I'm going to hope that he figures out the "Browse/Upload" button on it).

So, suckas, you will just have to check back later. And you with the video, get on it!

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Hillary Clinton's Speech to the Texas Democratic Party

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Update! He pulled through. Here you guys go.

So I (somewhat) failed. I didn't manage to swindle a ticket to the Obama-Hillary debate itself because someone who claimed they could get me one did not. Promises, promises.
Those of you who are not living in Texas may not know that this debate is basically impossible to get to. They offered 100 tickets to the public in a drawing which 43,456 people registered for (I'm not making that number up either). If my sister had entered, she would have won because she always wins random drawings.

But since I entered, I didn't win. But neither did 43,355 other Texans so I feel a little better.

I had resigned myself to watching the debates at Sholz's Beer Garden with the rest of the commonfolk when I got this email this morning from everyone's favorite person, Boyd Richie:

I'm pleased to announce that Senator Barack Obama and Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton have confirmed they will attend the TDP Debate Watch Party after this Thursday's historic Presidential Debate in Austin.

The TDP Debate Watch Party was $50 to watch the events at a hotel, which seemed like a rather pricey gamble on the off chance you would see one of the candidates. But $50 to be one of approximately 1000 people in the midst of Hills and Obama? Done.

I immediately purchased my ticket and advised all of my politically-active cohorts to do the same. But by the time $2 tried to buy a ticket about five minutes later, they were sold out. I definitely lucked out.

The most interesting thing about this event is that it is being held at the Hyatt Regency downtown. I was unawares until this afternoon that Austin even had a Hyatt Regency.

There is the story that Shirikins and I like to call the Mexihos or the Hyatt Regency night. One weekend in 2005 when we lived together, we got bored and decided to drive to Dallas. We got a deal on a room at the Hyatt Regency on Priceline and just decided to go live it up for one night. We started off at a wine bar, where I drank half a bottle of Conundrum and two crab cakes. We then walked across the street to an underground vodka bar called Nikita, where they only offered bottle service so we batted our eyes at lawyers until we were good and hammered.

The night ended with us crawling out of Nikita, unsuccessfully trying to find a cab, and then thinking we could walk/stumble our way back to the the Hyatt. As it turned out, that glowing ball of the Hyatt Regency seemed a little bit closer than it actually was. I awoke on the concrete sidewalk in the middle of the West End, face down, with Shirikins going "Rachel, Rachel, get up." I then got into a stranger's car (it was a Lexus, as if that makes it all okay -- I remember in my drunken state thinking "At least I'll be murdered while sitting in a comfortable leather bucket seat"), driven by three Latinas (one of whom had a broken arm) listening to Mariah Carey's "We Belong Together." It quickly became somewhat obvious that we had been picked up by three prostitutes. Which quickly became hilarious because...well, we were drunk.

They asked us where we were going and I believe Shirikins responded "The Hyatt?" and they all yelled out "Vamos al Hyatt!" in unison. Shirikins and I exchanged glances, burst out laughing and started yelling "Vamos al Hyatt!" along with them. Somehow we made it back to our hotel where they invited themselves up to our room. We stood around awkwardly making conversation until Shirikins finally went over to the bar, picked up the bag of chips and the brand new bottle of Absolut Citron we had purchased to pre-party with, handed it to the ringleader of the group and said "This is all we have to offer you" and pushed them out the door.

And that was the night of the Hyatt Regency Dallas. I can only hope that the Hyatt Regency Austin holds as much promise. Si se puede!

---

Also, I desperately need ideas for the Stool Pigeon thing on Saturday. So if anyone has ever done something with me that resulted in a funny story (stop snickering) that I can tell to strangers in 2-4 minutes, please please please email me. I would like to avoid the following subjects:

Captain Shitbag Asshat
The Night of the Musical Hoodie
Middle school

Okay, that about covers it.

Tonight we went to trivia at Mother Eagan's and Mayor Will Wynn showed up in his Gucci suit to read out some questions. Gingy reported that not only did he "look good, but he smelled good." Right. This coming from the girl who was "getting her beer on."

Mr. Mayor strolled through the crowd, occasionally getting slaps on the shoulder for his Obama endorsement and sounding like the Reverend character from the Simpsons.

At the end of the night he was forced to read all of the team names (like "I'm Sofa King drunk" or, our team name, "I drank my electric bill") and list their total number of points. As he got to the end of the list, he burst out laughing and said:

"Thank God for term limits."

He laughed some more, while everyone heckled him to read the name of the team and finally he spit out:

"Just because my girlfriend f-cked me in the ass with a strap-on doesn't mean I'm gay."

If that ain't keeping Austin weird, I have absolutely no idea what is.

Tomorrow we are going to Mother Eagan's for trivia night. I don't have a final head count on who the "we" includes but hopefully it enough people so that we actually get some points on the board this time around. Because Gingy, myself and my mom are not going to be enough.

I'm still a little miffed about the night that it was college BCS bowl-themed, and even more disappointed that when we were in Cabo the theme was Sex & the City. I don't think we could have asked for a better theme, unless they've got categories that cover:

• Popular self-help books
• Minor local celebrities
• Alcohol
• Failed relationships
• Local bars
• Curse words
• Panic attack symptoms

Anyone who wants to is welcome to come by Mother Eagan's starting at around 7 PM tomorrow. You never know. You might be the person who knows what "qat" is.

Check out the new campaign ad for Larry Joe Doherty, the Congressional candidate for TD-10, who I have been volunteering for.

Last night I went with III to Speakeasy to see Mini-KISS which is exactly what the name implies: KISS cover band, replete with face paints and leather masks, composed of a group of midgets. You might wonder why on earth two seemingly normal, intelligent people would go to watch midgets cover KISS and trust me, I've wondered the same thing on the hour, every hour, since about 11:30 PM last night. But now that I'm on my sobriety kick, I've had to get really creative about ways to change things up because there are only so many glasses of water you can drink while listening to house music.

Before we could get to the mini-fun, there was a cover band called Detroit Steel. We speculated quite a bit as to whether they would be miniature or not, but I've since learned that a) they are average sized and b) they are a local Austin band, not the nationwide opener for Mini-KISS. But it takes a special kind of band to agree to open for a midget KISS cover band and we were not disappointed. The Austin Chronicle describes Detroit Steel as a "70's rock tribute act with horrible wigs, smelly fake snakeskin pants and talent to match!"

Yup: Right. On. The Money.


After listening to "Cat Scratch Fever" and "Rock'n'Roll Hoochie Coo" and a few other forgettable tacky songs, Detroit Steel announced Mini-KISS would be coming out. But not before we got to see one of the half-drunk cougars who slightly resembled Ana Gasteyer fall over while attempting to dance on stage, her dress flipping up over her head in a moment that surely would have won me $500 on Break.com had I been filming it, revealing control-top pantyhose (thank you 8 lb. baby Jesus) and her desperate cry for help.

Worth the cost of admission right there.

Mini-KISS ended up making Detroit Steel look like a well-established professional rock group. The main singer of Mini-KISS sang out of key, at the wrong tempo, and slurred through lines he didn't know. His "band mates" pretended to strum their guitars but it quickly became apparent that the music was dubbed. They should have lip-synced too, it was that bad. At one point there was an Ashlee Simpson moment when there was an "electrical" problem and the music completely stopped. But -- THANK GOD. -- they got it fixed and carried on. By then I was just sticking around to see if one of them would keel over or something on stage.

All in all, I feel fairly certain of two things:

1. Mini-KISS was just four midgets they drummed up in Austin the morning of the show and said "Here, just jump around with face paint on screaming 'yeow!'"
2. I am going to hell.


At the end of the night, you know that things went bad, somewhere between the fur vest and the midget guitars shooting off sparklers, when your date says "Goodnight. I'm going to go take a shower and wash the stench and depravity of this night off of me."

Coworker: "Why are you under the desk?"
Me: blank stare, take a bite of chocolate
Coworker: "You're eating chocolate...under the desk?"
Me: "I'm having a George Costanza moment."

Deadline night everybody! No witty entry for you tonight. I also had a really craptastic day.

But, I would like to do something a little different and hopefully turn this crappy day around.

I know I have a lot of new readers, people who crossed through here recently because of 20somethingbloggers, The Bachelor, XFC, etc. I thought it'd be interesting to see if I can coax any of my lurkers to say hello and what brought you here and what keeps you coming back. Please post your response in the comments section below! You can post anonymously.

And, this question is for everyone, I'm interested to know: What is your one of your favorite blog entries that you've read on here?

Kiwi sent me this article from bizjournals.com that talks about where America's most stressful places are. It essentially lists Austin as the fifth least stressful US metro, out of the group of 50 metro areas they polled.

Well. That kind of takes the wind out of my sails on my daily cruise to "Should I put my head down on my desk and sob or should I drink another sugarfree Red Bull-sville."

Nevertheless, I'd like to make a counter-argument against this article so I can continue to complain freely about my stress levels. Austin isn't all bar-b-que and margaritas, people. We have some serious things to worry about. Here are Mean Rachel's Top Ten Biggest Stressors as an Average Austinite:

10. Poor Choices: We are partially responsible for getting George W. Bush elected to gubner which launched him into the presidency. I often wonder if Perry will make a run someday. Do you not think that keeps me up at night??

9. Public transportation: Oh. Wait. There is none.

8. The Skyline: Austin's skyline is going to go from looking like Happy City, USA to Soulless Condo Dwellers From the Planet Mars (or just Dallas). Thirteen new skyscrapers by 2010? I hope they have somewhere to put all of the tanning beds they're going to need to accommodate our new citizens.

7. SUVs: Not getting killed by a giant SUV is a daily concern of any lead-footed Austinite worth their Rudy's sauce. The only episode of South Park I ever saw was about people getting Hybrids and becoming so smug that the started polluting the air with "smug" instead. Well, in Austin we have a different sort of pollution and it is called: YOU ARE AN ASSHOLE. YES! YOU IN THAT TAHOE/EXCURSION/HUMMER/SUBURBAN/GIANT USELESS VEHICLE DRAINING OUR NATURAL RESOURCES!! UNLESS YOU HAVE TWELVE KIDS IN THE BACK SEAT, GET A FREAKING CIVIC! HAVEN'T YOU SEEN AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH?!

6. Professional Sports Team: Unless you enjoy UT football, you are out of luck in this town when it comes to a decent professional sports team. Isn't it time we get major league baseball?

5. Local Music/Film/Art Festivals: While we may not be a very big city, we sure as hell know how to draw a crowd. Most of you know about Austin City Limits Festival or SXSW each year. Out of towners may not be aware that we have many, many more occasions that we like to celebrate such as our weekly Blues on the Green, Christmastime Trail of Lights and of course let's not forget the annual Motorola Freescale AT&T Marathon. For the duration of these festivities, Austin becomes a city that is completely impossible to navigate. You can be driving down Barton Springs Road, cruising along at 35 MPH and then suddenly have what I like to call the "Oh Shit, A Festival/Road Race/Small Gathering of Bongo Drum Players" moment. It's a horrible, enraging, sickening feeling. There's no turning back. You're stuck in the thick of it, probably for the next 1 hour to three days.

4. Dressing for the Weather: As a perfect example, this morning I left my house wearing a short-sleeved shirt. It was a balmy 75 degrees at 8 AM and I had my air conditioning on last night because it was so hot. By noon, the wind had picked up and the temperature dropped back down to 60. It is currently 44 degrees outside. This is not an occasional occurrence. This happens all. the. time. That's why it's always best to keep a bathing suit, a scarf and a bottle of vodka in your car.

3. Pinkberry (or lack thereof): Ever since I went to Pinkberry in LA, the fact that Austin doesn't have one has caused me a lot of anguish. Why do we get certain chains like Taco Bueno (no thanks) and Which Wich (I'll stick with Thundercloud) but not others?

2. Pollen count: I have spent my entire life proudly stating that I don't have allergies. And while I think that perhaps I do now have allergies, I refuse to admit it. I will go to my grave stating that I just have migraine headaches and colds that never have a fever or a sore throat. Once you give in to Austin allergies, they consume you. In the words of Mopdog, "nut up."

1. I-35: 'Nuff said. In Dante's Inferno, instead of dooming the wrathful to walking around in smoke, unable to see, he should have forced them to drive on I-35 at any given hour of the day, unable to see anywhere around them (either surrounded by eighteen-wheelers or in a long line of cars packed so closely together you can only see the car in front of you).

---

That was relaxing.

Tonight, in continued Obama fever, I went with $2 to the party at Victory Grill welcoming the Obama campaign to Texas. Everyone was a-twitter over the announcement made late this afternoon that the Clinton-Obama debate would be held here in Austin next Thursday. I intend to beg, borrow or steal my way to the debate. Hopefully I will be able to swindle a ticket somehow.
There were a ton of people at Victory Grill, and the venue itself was a hothouse of hope and goodwill. A few local politicians were there, including Brian Ruiz who is running for Congress (my Killeen readership needs to vote for him in the general election, as he does not have a primary opponent), Gary Cobb who is running for Travis County District Attorney, Glen Maxey (who I had a rather strange exchange with - Him: Are you an Austin person or an Obama person? Me: Can't a person be both?) who is running for Tax Collector and learned tonight that a squeaky wheel gets the grease, and State Representative Mark Strama, whom you cannot turn around without running into in this town.

There was a metric ton of people there, mostly youngsters like myself wearing ragged "Rock the Vote" t-shirts (that's not true, but you get the point) and drinking beer (I also wasn't drinking any beer but I appreciate the sentiment). But there was a nice cross-section of our esteemed weird Austinites and I was glad to contribute $2 (two actual dollars, not $2 himself) toward buying a TEXANS FOR OBAMA button which I will now be wearing basically all the time.

After the party $2 and I headed over to Primizie which was just a block away from Victory Grill. I was hoping to catch the owner/chef there to see what he thought of the Open Tab write-up but he wasn't there. An hour or so later, when we walked back by Victory Grill, there were still a ton of people outside, everyone laughing and talking.

At that point, $2 mentioned how he'd gone online and seen that the OBAMA vanity plate for Texas was still available. Aside from speculate at random statistics, $2 spends his time doing random things like this. As we walked back to my car, I said "Wow, I have the world's worst license plate, I should get it." He said "Do it, it's only $40!" Well, we talked about it and walked up to my car, which some of you may not know has a DEVIL PLATE. Yup. My sort of luck. $2 was like, "That's awful!" and so I really started to think that maybe I would buy the OBAMA plate.

As I was driving $2 back to his place, I was talking about the day I got my car when the car salesman came out with the license plates and said "Well you won't forget your plate number!" and I looked at the guy at the dealership and I was like "Seriously?"

I said to $2, "I'm not very religious but" -- No sooner had these words come out of my mouth, a Jeep turned across traffic RIGHT in front of me, and I slammed on my brakes and nearly hit the guy. Apparently it is definitely time to get a new license plate. So, when I got home tonight, I pulled the trigger. In ten to fourteen days, I will be the proud owner of a Texas license plate that merely says: OBAMA.

Hey, it's better than 666-HXX or ASS MAN.

It's official. Texas is the next big battleground state. The campaign is bringing some of their most talented field staffers from across the country to Texas. They're opening up offices in every reigon of the state, and this will be the biggest Texas grassroots operation in recent memory.

Yes, Clinton currently has the lead in Texas, and their campaign views our state as their "firewall" to stop our momentum. But we're a people-powered campaign, and we'll give it our best effort to make the Lone Star state competitive.

Just this weekend, we had over 150 Austin volunteers making over 2,000 outreach phone calls...and we're just getting started. Click here to watch the Fox 7 news story about our local grassroots efforts.


These Obama campaign staffers have been working hard all year long, so let's show them a big Texas welcome!

What:
Texas Welcome Party
for Obama Staffers and Volunteers

When:
6:00 p.m. - 8:00 p.m.
Monday, February 11

Where:
Victory Grill
1104 East 11th Street
Austin, TX 78702

Dear TD&JS,

Almost a year ago now, we attended the IC for the first annual Crapentine's Day. This event held much meaning to us, although thanks to the magic of hangovers and fierce denial, I have forgotten nearly all the reasons why it was so meaningful.

Now it is a year later, and how different everything is. I am now regrettably single, having broken up with my one true love, a little place I like to call "Iraq." You can see it in the flag I am holding (I finally stopped waving that stupid flag). E-dub no longer wears long sleeve t-shirts and mock turtleneck sweaters downtown and really turned into the sleeper drunk out of all of us, known for her ability to sing all the words to "The Devil Went Down to Georgia" while smashed and subsequently get kicked out of bars. AJ & Cashmoney's husbands are finally home and I managed to keep them from beating up Kenny Luna until the end. Tall Rachel finally brought us Whataburger after many disappointing nights and crushed dreams and will always hold dear my tambourine serenade to her while she sat on the piano and we all sang "You've Lost That Loving Feeling."

Cab drivers, bartenders and predicative text messaging may come and go, but there's one thing we'll never lose: the smooth percussion of JTD and the warbling falsetto of DTP. And while the IC may be gone, its physical edifice as empty as the piano shell that once held the digital keyboard, its spirit lives on. We never expected on Crapentine's 2007 that by Crapentine's 2008 we would no longer be able to go sing along to "Big Balls" and Whitesnake and pay money to have you not play "Proud to Be An American" and then get mad when you did.

So I make this final appeal as the memory of the IC fades like a buzz at 3 AM: We want a Crapentine's Day 2008. Anyone with two ears and a heart in Central Texas needs a Crapentine's Day 2008. And TD&JS is the only way it can happen.

In reverence,
MR

I came back to a stack of (postal) mail, including a padded envelope that contained Not Quite What I Was Planning: Six-Word Memoirs by Writers Famous & Obscure. Sure enough, my six word memoir is planted there on page 205:

Ledger of the number of the following:

1. Humpback, blue and fin whales spotted, not more than 100 feet away: Hundreds.
2. Trips to the Mexican on-site emergency room: One.
3. Virgin pina coladas or pinadas as they were called: Probably twenty. "I only ordered one." "It's happy hour!" "So it is!"
4. Wait staff named Omar who fell for and subsequently had their hearts broken by me: Two.
5. Pianos played: One (though there were 3 on the property).
6. Tequila shots, margaritas and Pacificos declined by yours truly: Countless.
7. Sunset booze cruise on which I drank two Cokes: One.
8. Pages read of my book (War and Remembrance): +/-495
9. Argument with my mom for griping about the sound my flat iron makes: One.
10. Bottles of sunblock used up: One (and one thrown away at the airport security line).
11. Creepy old men making awkward advances on the terrace of the bar: One.
12. Overpriced water taxis taken that required us rolling up our pants and leaping in ("Maybe best when the tide goes out, then maybe you don't get wet?"): One.
13. Large bruise on knee resulting from leap into said water taxi: One.
14. Idiomatic expressions learned: Several. "De nada limonada." "Chilango es el cuerpo del chile y una cara de un chango." "Hola viola."
15. Mother-daughter trip to a beautiful location, to go down in the books: One.

During the timeshare tour we went on yesterday morning (in order to reap the benefits of having done so and to keep them from harassing us the rest of the vacay), as our salesman Frank was trying to make one last-ditch effort to sell us a biannual Junior Suite ("Single women are our biggest buyers!"), he mentioned that The Bachelor had filmed the final episode here at the resort.

Come again? Bachelor 11, you say?

Sure enough, we are staying at the same place where Brad Womack himself broke hearts around the nation. And I would like to go ahead and quell any rumors regarding him text messaging his ex during the final episodes by saying that this place is about as remote as it gets: I have no cell phone service, no text message/email service on my phone and the limited wireless internet I can find is outside of the chapel (again, irony). It's a bunch of 60 year olds and myself hunched over our laptops on rocking chairs.

So -- stay tuned for photos of me sobbing by the ocean, in the same gardens of this infamous Rejected Bachelorette Resort of Broken Dreams. I've come full circle from my Halloween costume and it feels so bueño.

(P.S. Last night ended with my mom saying "I feel White Houses coming on" and me being herded by Abraham and Omar, two of the Mexican waiters, toward the digital keyboard at the front of the restaurant, while another waitstaff member said "Juega 'La Bomba!'" and me playing--of course--White Houses to a smattering of old people buzzed on piña coladas.)

(P.P.S. I've drank about five virgin piña coladas but have yet to drink any alcohol! Let's see how long this lasts.)

I will preface this entry with the following: It is 4:15 AM and in approximately one hour my mom will be coming to pick me up and we will be headed to AUS airport to go to Cabo! The next six days I plan on doing nothing and wiggling my toes in the sand. Cannot. Wait.

Today I went with Shirioke's sister, Tali, an aspiring photographer, to take some pictures downtown. She needed subjects and what better subject than an angry blogger? While I don't think I'll be winning ANTM anytime soon, Tali got some great shots in some super cool locations downtown.
Work it! And thanks, Tali! Check out the rest of the photos here.

Rather than get some sleep tonight, I continued to assault my senses. After karaoke last night, tonight was improv comedy at Cold Towne Theater. I wanted to see what I signed myself up for on February 23rd when I agreed to be the "Stool Pigeon." After that we went to the Elephant Room for some funk music.
And while some people might call that a night and get some SLEEP, others like myself find themselves providing a jitney service around Austin for D&Ds; in a Taco Cabana where it seems to be a Cabana Sans Taco and the world's slowest service; explaining to a ruddy character that Costa Rica is not in Mexico but good try; and coming home and having to find a certain (cough- Gingy's) phone that she left in your car.
Below is a live utter from the said Cabana Sans Taco. And now, at 4:40 AM, I will commence packing.
Hasta!

What better way to celebrate my 1 month of sobriety (thank you, thank you) and my nine-day weekend (vamos a la playa!) than by going to a karaoke party with a bunch of strangers?

Sobriety and karaoke don't typically go together very well. In fact, there are some other instances where sobriety isn't known for its benefits. I've compiled a list:

• Piano recitals
• Long boring conversations in bars with uninteresting people
• Wearing going out clothes that provide no warmth in cold weather, which normally you would not notice because you'd be three sheets to the wind
• Whataburger drive-thru lines
• First dates
• Family gatherings
• Watching The Bachelor
• Ridiculously high heels that hurt your feet
  
• Blogging

Alas. I'm sure I'll find some more to add to this list and, please, don't let me know if I've missed something.