The summer in drink glasses

I guess this blog has kind of turned into an occasional travelogue for Austin food and beverage. Had to share two new (to me) pitch-perfect cocktail places with you: Weather Up, at Cesar Chavez and Chicon, is seriously one of those bars with no sign outside. You know, to keep the uncool people out. Somehow I snuck in this weekend, and I'm here to tell you that their boutique ice (made and carved in the house next door) is nothing to joke about. It made my whiskey drink soooo much better. The owner came down from Brooklyn to open this, a sister site to the Prospect Heights original. It's pricey, but what place in Austin isn't now? And the Sunday Bloody award goes to Easy Tiger on Sixth, tucked down by the river and easily the only place worth stopping into before the street meets I 35.

There's something about sweating drink glasses that always makes me want to take photos of them.

For the family:

Me with nephew Mac and niece Eleanor just yesterday. They are both so joyful and doing really well (and seem happy that "Aunt Sissy" is around these days).

Running my arse off

I tend to come around to things late and in strange ways. Mostly because I'm so stubborn. I've always been a "kind of" runner--in other words, a walker and jogger who occasionally went faster and farther. I remember reading a blog entry from a fellow native North Louisianian and acquaintance (go see abchao.com for lots of pretty things) that claimed "real" running was a realistic option for anyone, absolutely anyone, willing to feel uncomfortable for awhile. She had gone from doing very little to competitively running races in a short amount of time. I shook this off. Somewhere in the back of my head I put runners in another category from myself. Roommates, friends would run marathons or half ones or whatever, but for some inexplicable reason I never imagined I could get there. They were just people, my kind of people in fact, but they seemed otherworldly because of this one thing.

So of course I wait until the hottest summer of my life (temps measured at 109 in central Austin just a mile from the house yesterday) to re-envision my running abilities. I spent all of May hurting, as trusty AB said I would. Getting to the one or two mile marker consistently proved difficult at the beginning; the heat combined with those months of stationary dissertation writing to press down on me. And an earlier version of myself probably would have given up and moved on to the elliptical or made do with integrating some good old fashioned power-walking. But somehow I said, screw it, this is happening, I am not stopping again. And now I shout from the rooftops that yes, oh yes, this running euphoria is possible for anyone. I wake up early every morning and zoom away now, putting miles under my feet not necessarily with ease but with drive, clarity, and a sense of worth of it all.

If any of you out there have been watching the HBO show Girls, then you know that there was a scene directly illustrating such a conundrum. Hannah, our complaining, out of shape, yet brilliant-writer narrator insists that she was not "made" for exercise. I laughed when I saw this, because I'm pretty sure I've said that before.

x

Photoessay: Summer arrives in Austin

Photography has become a new creative outlet for me; I am a writer, but as of late I've discovered that some simple pleasures are best left to the lens.

Things I've learned from the Texas summer heat thus far: Sandwich bags full of fresh fruit are not just for toddlers, water sports require both physique maintenance and consistent pedicures (because Austin has seemingly too many hot people, if you can believe it), French press coffee really does top drip every time, writing at bakeries is my new thang, I could drink fresh salsa, and super-hydration is a very real necessity.

Eating my way through this town

As part of an unabashed week of leisure following graduation and the world's most exhausting road trip, I am eating my way through Austin. Arguably one of the best food cities...well, anywhere, you can't really go wrong here.

Last night I was treated to a lovely evening at Vevo on the east side. Their margaritas are strong. Like, put hair on your chest strong. But they come with dainty little orchids on the rim to try and fool you. Chipotle enchiladas and a huge bowl of guac to share on a colorful covered patio? I give it an A.

For lunch today my sis and I tried Phil's Ice House, which is owned by the same folks who created Austin's legendary Amy's ice cream. Big ass burgers, sweet potato fries, and the coldest Coke I have ever had. All of this turned into the most excellent treatment for my tequila hangover.

Update for the family: still no little Mac. My nephew seems reluctant to leave the womb. I don't blame him. Austin summers are pretty oppressive.

Peace out.

Austin in May, so far

Shiner, Starbucks, crossword puzzles, Curious George, a walk down 6th, Tex Mex and some cactus flowers...

Tonight my friend Mer and I are trying out Paul Qui's food trailer East Side King. He won this year's Top Chef and promptly opened up an Asian fusion trailer in the lot behind my favorite bar in Austin, the Grackle. Will report back. Win!