ni hao, world.

I was uploading photos to flickr, and today's greeting is in Mandarin. But then I went back to the home page, and it was in Swedish. Hej, blog.

This past weekend was fun-filled and action-packed, like a summer blockbuster movie. I got to spend time with a wealth of Houston friends, which was great, because it's already getting to that point in the Texas summer where it's fight or flight - I either go out and Do Things and Be With People, or I spend all my time hiding in a cool, dark room, praying for it to be October already. I don't particularly like the latter way of getting through the summer, so it's glad I am that I have amazing friends nearby so that I can do the former.

On Friday, I met some of my friends at our local institution, Warren's. I love Warren's - it's walking distance of the Rice, which means free parking for me, they pour whiskey with a liberal hand, the bartenders actually know how to make a whiskey press correctly (this is v. rare, trust) and we go so often that they totally know our group, what we like to drink, even our names. Plus, we're a bit like a gang, and no one messes with our territory - the balcony seats are ours, Houston. In fact, except for the rare but deadly occurrances of BeCargoShorted Douchebags trying to court me ("good luck at your gig!"), Warren's is pretty much perfect.

It helps to have great people to hang out with, though.


Jerry, Patrick, Matt and Ray

Tabletops looks really confused. Except, I'm not supposed to call him Tabletops in public anymore cause he says it makes him look bad. FINE. Patrick looks really confused.



Mere and I, on the other hand, are totally going to be cast in some sort of Identity Switch movie, no? Maybe we're secretly sisters! But we're going after the same man! And he can't tell us apart! Oh, the comedy of it all!



Ray told me later in the evening that he tried really hard not to look at the camera once, because he was working on not being a camera hog. Ray, hello, that is why I love you! That, and your slick dance moves. And the fact that a lot of times you have a flask on you. So, okay, there are three reasons I love you, but the camera thing is totally number one.


Alexandra and Jill

Alex came! I hadn't seen her since . . . oh gosh, new year's? Can that be right?? It was funny, we were wearing the EXACT SAME SHOES. Only hers were black and mine were yellow.

Also, Sunday was Jill's birthday. Happy birthday, Jill!



Here is Ray studiously not looking at the camera. Even Juliet thinks he's being silly.



I can't remember why people decided to show me their muscles, but I remember telling them that I could take them all single-handed. And then Patrick showed me his actual muscles. They are bigger than my head.



After we had scared off the rest of the patrons of Warren's with talk of circumcision (don't ask) and rotting vegetable smells (REALLY don't ask), we decided to go back to the Rice to see Jerry and Jill's new apartment. It's super cute, and they have TONS of windows to look out on the streets below. We also drank Matt's AMAZING homebrew that he made for the St. Arnold's brewing competition (more on that later). It seriously was some super tasty beer.







Then we just hung around and talked till the wee hours, spied on people and had a dance party to MJ and also Kanye. It was a perfect way to close out a pretty stressful week.

On Saturday night, I went to have dinner with my BFF Aly, her husband Josh and their little girl, Sophia. (Oh, and Josh's brother Jeremy, as well.) I've known Aly for almost 24 years, which is so insane that I can't even wrap my head around the idea. She truly is my sister in pretty much every way but sharing DNA (does swapping it count?); her parents are my second parents, Josh is totally my brother-in-law, and I know that no matter what, I can always go to Aly with anything. It's funny, with her job and mine, and our family obligations, we don't get to see each other as much as we'd like to, but it's never weird or awkward when we do get together. It's like no time has passed - we spend three minutes filling each other in on any major surgeries (her) or boys whose hearts we've broken (usually me. sometimes her, though) and then we go about our business like we were never apart. I can't imagine what life would be like if it weren't for Aly; luckily, I don't have to.

Also, she just found out that she's preggers again. Yay, Aly! She and Josh have been wanting another baby for a while now, and since she just made the decision to leave work and go back to school for her Masters, it sort of couldn't have come at a better time. Also, if Sophia is anything to go by, this second kid is going to be a brilliant knockout.



Hi, Phia! ILU!!!

Sophia's so smart, guys; she can practically read already and can spell her name and do all sorts of crazy babygenius stuff. She's only two!! Plus, Josh always teaches her really funny phrases to say to people - this weekend she was running around telling everyone "Du hast mich!!"

After dinner, Josh started talking about Two Girls One Cup, which I had FORTUNATELY never heard of before. I say fortunately because my inquisitive nature would not allow me to rest until I saw it, even though everyone, even Josh (who once showed me a video where a man sticks HIS ENTIRE HEAD up a girl's vajayjay), told me NOT TO DO IT. Let me please reiterate their advice. DO NOT WATCH TWO GIRLS ONE CUP. DO NOT DO IT. BAD. BAD IDEA OKAY?

After leaving Josh and Aly's, I went to Meridian to see The Virgins/Be Your Own Pet/She Wants Revenge. I love Meridian; it's probably my favorite place to watch shows, because there are multiple bars and the antechamber has tons of places to sit and people-watch between acts. The Virgins and Be Your Own Pet were both really good - The Virgins were fun and peppy and everyone was dancing along. Here is video, not from me, and not from their show at Meridian, of them performing "Rich Girls" for your enjoyment:



I like how one of the comments on the video is "Film the bassist for god's sake!" It's like I spoke through this stranger on youtube, like I guided his/her hand while typing that comment. Actually, I should like to point out that at no point on Saturday night did I hit on a bassist, so I think I'm actually growing and maturing as a person.

Be Your Own Pet were, of course, exhausting, in the best possible way. Watching Jemina is like watching a wind-up toy which someone has put down on a stage; she just goes and goes and goes. AND GOES. Ah, to be young. This video sums up the movement, if not the noise:



I left in the middle of She Wants Revenge. As it turns out, while it's great to be a Joy Division fan, and while it's great to know Joy Division fans, being in the same room with three hundred Joy Division fans is just annoying. Especially when they're all there to watch a band who couldn't come close to the brilliance of Joy Division in their most fervent fantasies.

On Sunday, I met Mere, Matt, Jill, Daniel, Sarah and Henri (phew!) at St. Arnold's brewery. We were all there to support Matt in the homebrew competition. Look how supportive we look!



Actually, we look tired and annoyed. This is because there were two guys (The Beer Choads, for lack of knowing their actual names. No, that's not true; I did know one of their names. But Beer Choads is certainly more accurate) were having a competition to see who could be the most obnoxious and overly loud. I'm not sure who won, but I know who lost: all of us who had to sit there and listen to them. Only my deep and abiding affection for Matt would cause me to sit through that.

While Matt didn't win (although I still suspect a kickbacks situation), he had a super high score, and all the judges were really effusive in their praise of his excellent beer. I'm so proud of him! He worked really hard on that beer and the results were mighty tasty!

Here we all are celebrating his good score outside:


Jill, me, Mere, Daniel, Matt, Sarah and Henri

Okay, everyone else is celebrating. I'm busy thinking, "oh shit, I've put my 600 dollar camera into the hands of a total stranger outside of a brewery! What have I done??"

I feel like this photo accurately sums up my and mere's friendship:



Everyone else is busy focused on the reason we're there, and we're busy laughing over something privately.

After leaving the brewery, we decided to drive to some mysterious bar that only Daniel had heard of. We walked by this mysterious bar (still not convinced it exists!) about 5 times before realizing that it was closed. THAT IS HOW MYSTERIOUS IT IS. (That, or we were sidetracked by the American Apparrel shop windows. Hipster habits are hard to break.) So, instead, we went to Agora, where we had caffeine and booze and a few minutes more with Sarah and Henri before they had to leave to go back to Austin. Bye, Sarah and Henri! See you next month!


Daniel practices his life of leisure at Agora.

I'm glad I got to see everyone - with everyone's summer plans, it's going to be a long time till we're all back under one roof. Don't fly away too far, friends! Unless you're stowing me in your carry-on!

hidden corners in drafty places

I really love discovering something new about something or someone that you thought you knew everything about. You know what I mean. Like you one day find out your best friend used to breed pygmy rabbits, or something, as a child, and all of a sudden she's become so much more interesting to you.

That happened to me last night, not with a person, but a place! Last night, Jerry, Jill and I went to see a band called popup (this blog will be inundated with hundreds of photos of them as I let their tour manager go off with my camera last saturday. obvs you can tell by this that I have an uncommon level of trust in and affection for these people, because my nikon is my baby.) at notsuoh, which is a Houston venue downtown. notsuoh's pretty awesome, because it's full of dark corners (for doing dark deeds?) and sometimes you can still get away with smoking in there. I don't smoke, actually, in general, but when I drink a lot, I always crave cigarettes, and it sucks to have to go outside to partake in my once-a-year vice. Also, if you play there, you get free beer all night. I don't play in a band*, but I imagine that's a pretty sweet deal.

But I thought I knew all I needed to know about notsuoh. Not so! While hanging out last night, someone discovered a secret building upstairs from the bar! We got in through a busted window and went up a steep staircase, and what greeted us was the most amazing place I've seen in a long time. There were rows and rows of shelves lined with really old shoes, a dusty out-of-tune piano and tons of spooky shadows and hidey holes. Broken furniture and old canvases scattered the floor, and you could hear the scurry of mice and rats as you walked along the groaning floors. Even better, we found really old bottles of beer, which we felt honor-bound to partake in (because rules for living state that anytime you find yourself in a dark, deserted building, you must consume whatever food or drink you find there. How else will the serial killer know that it's time for him to show up? Actually, I guess he's still not allowed to show up until some girl has sex there. Sex leads to death by serial-killer, everyone knows this. I didn't see a serial killer, in case you're wondering.). The whole place was super-spooky and awesome, and finding it was like having a shiny treasure that you can hug to yourself.

So that just goes to show me that you can find excitement and intrigue anywhere, even in people and places you thought you knew by heart. You only have to look.

* Yet. Of course I currently have about four musical projects in the works - Unexpected Bassist, The Funky Meercats, Soundcheck (where the only lyrics will be things like, "check, one. two. check. can I get a little more guitar in my monitor, please?" It's going to be GENIUS.) and of course my 32-member experiemental-rock band, Secret Baby and the Big-House Bruises, which is still recruiting members, if you'd like to sign up. I myself will be playing the fire extinguisher and wearing a funny hat.

Things (I Did In February) That I Love

Right, so I'm finally getting around to my February-in-review, only 4 days late. February's a great month: it's short (even when it's been extended, as it was this year), there's still pretty good weather in Texas, and it's Black History Month, which means that I'm more likely to find a James Baldwin display at Barnes and Noble. My February was pretty jam-packed with both change and fun: I moved offices, bought a car, and had some great nights out with my Houston friends.

I started off the month participating in Meredith and Matt's TV Marathon Extravaganza. Along with Mandy and Bill, we each picked three hours of one tv show to watch, and came up with food and drink which tied into what we were watching. It was a lazy, drunken, gluttonous good time! Matt and I hosted our shows on Friday night. Matt decided to show Smallville (which basically everyone I know watches, but I don't, because the only character I like is Lex, and he's not naked enough) and made awesome Red Kryptonite drinks (raspberry lemonade with a healthy splash of vodka) and the best chicken and dumplings I've ever tasted. Those chicken and dumplings were such tasty business, I swear. After watching four episodes and following the rules of the drinking game (I won't go into them in detail, but suffice it to say that one rule is drink anytime someone says "Clark." Have you ever watched Smallville? Watch one ep and get back to me on the relative state of your liver.), we were pretty trashed, but we still had enough in us for more.

I showed The X-Files, obviously, because I will take any opportunity to push that show on an unwilling public. In this case, though, everyone was perfectly willing because Matt, Mere and Mandy are all watching the show from the beginning. It's so cute! They still think everything's going to make sense! Anyway, for my part, I served individual sweet potato pies (because we watched "Jose Chung's 'From Outer Space'") and make-your-own dessert monsters, in honor of "Post-Modern Prometheus." I had marshmallows and chocolate chips and coconut and all sorts of black-and-white edible fun. All our monsters were totally cute, too. And very tasty.

And in honor of The X-Files, Rupert, Mandy's dog, wore his bumblebee outfit. Thing I like? Dressing up dogs.



Isn't he totally cute?

On Saturday it was Mere and Mandy's turn. Meredith decided to show the first four hours of Twin Peaks, which was an excellent idea not only because we all love Twin Peaks, but because she had the most amazing food to go with it. She ordered strawberry rhubarb pie from House of Pies (probably the best place to eat in Houston. Its name says it all. IT IS A HOUSE OF PIES.) and make little sugar cookies in the shape of Douglas firs. There was a cheese log in honor of the Log Lady (someday my Log is going to have something to say about this cheese log!), and swedish fish (not in the percolator.) But best of all was Jerry's Perfect Sandwich. Remember when he first makes his entrance and he's going on and on about this perfect sandwich made with brie and butter on a baguette? Well, Mere decided to try it out, and let me tell you, Jerry may be sort of a crazy playboy who makes tragic sartorial choices, but the man knows his sandwiches. That was the best sandwich I've ever had, and I'm a girl who's eaten a lot of sandwiches.

Mandy wrapped things up with a marathon of Arrested Development, which included my favorite ep of the series, "Pier Pressure." And that's why you don't teach your kids lessons! She made Carl Weathers' Stew (I love stew) and we had Unlimited Juice and Mandy made little chocolate conversation hearts that spelled out "MAYBE TONIGHT." All in all, it was the best way to spend a weekend - vegging out, eating great food, getting drunk and watching some of my favorite television shows. And Smallville.

Then that next day, we all met for brunch at Hobbit Cafe. I love Hobbit Cafe - it's quaint and charming, and they give you enough food to feed an orc. We all looked super swank and uptown, see?



There's Matt, doing his best suave hipster impression. He's really good at it!



There's Mere, looking dreamy and hip.



And of course Mandy and m'elle got on like hotcakes, being as they both posess approximately the same level of maturity.

Speaking of the offspring, she's started showing an interest in cooking. So I tricked her out with an apron and hat. Doesn't she look professional?



So far she can cook grilled cheese and green beans with shallots and mushrooms. And she can make coffee, which I actually can't (I don't drink it so I never bothered to learn how to make it. I barely function as an adult, let me assure you), so I think soon the student shall become the master.

But I'm not ready to be stripped of my title of domestic diva just yet. People who work with me have a lot of hardships, the main one being that I'm a cranky bastard 98% of the time, so I try to make it up to them on any holiday occassion. This year for Valentine's Day I made little gift tins - red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting and candied flowers, chocolate-dipped pink ribbon shortcake cookies, and of course the traditional gift of seasonal Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. Nothing says "I love you" like peanut butter and chocolate wrapped in pink foil.

Don't they look cheerful and fun?



They were delicious, too, if I must say. Man, I wish I worked with me.

The rest of February sped right on by, filled with a lot of overtime work and too much shopping at Target. And then, last week, tons of great things happened! I got a raise! I bought a car! I went to Warrens!

That last bit, at least, has photographic evidence as well. See?



Sarah came to town! There she is with Mere, probably showing her a photo of Ray. Because as I once pointed out, and Sarah confirmed, the ratio of photos in which Ray appears to the ones in which he is absent is about 15 to 1. Sometimes he isn't even in the vicinity of the camera - perhaps he is several hundred miles away - but he still manages to sneak into frame. See?





It's just weird.

Matt learned a little something from Ray, because he managed to slide into this blurry shot without even noticing.



Jesus. What's so funny, me?

Sarah took over my camera at one point and Annie Liebowitzed Mere and I into being awesome photog subjects.





I mean, you can just SEE the emotion pouring off of us. We're so EDITORIAL. Sarah is like Mr Jay, only less orange, and she totally gets us to be the fiercest we can be. Tyra will love us!

The only thing to put a slight damper on the evening was that some dude in cargo shorts totally tried to hit on my by way of lecturing me about politics. A tip for all you fellas out there: I know women are hard to talk to, or whatever, especially if they're in a group of friends, but the way NOT to make them all fluttery and weak-in-the-knees is to tell them they don't understand the welfare system because they're too young. I'm just sayin'.

And although, technically, it happened in the month of March, I must give special shout-outs to last night, when I randomly caught Emma on tv. Gah, Jeremy Northam, why are you so hot? PLEASE SCOLD ME, MR KNIGHTLEY. (In case you don't know, 90% of all heterosexual females lust after either Mr Darcy as played by Colin Firth or Mr Knightley as played by Jeremy Northam, or both. In my case, it's both. In an attempt to woo literary-minded females, many men will try to adopt either a Darcy or Knightley demeanor. This is a mistake, and will cause romantic failure nearly every time, because the simple truth of the matter is that we won't stand for anyone snubbing us at a dance, trying to ruin our sister's happiness or being kind of creepily older than us and scolding us all the time unless they look like, and have the charm of, Firth or Northam. Unfair, perhaps, but this is just the way of life, men. Don't go around telling us "badly done" unless you're prepared to back that up with aristocratic good looks, a charming accent and the tendency to fiddle a bit with your waistcoat while you struggle in vain to hide your undying love and affection for us.)

March brings us ever closer to my encroaching old age, but before that happy time, we'll be bringing this blog coverage of Austin's annual South by Southwest Music Festival. Courtney and I will be posting lots of music-related entries over the next few weeks, so if that isn't your cup of tea, try to hang in there. But we are going to do our level best to find a member of Hanson and ask what the deal is with hanson secrets, so watch out for that.

xx erin

Twice in one day? Apparently my long absence has turned me into quite the chatterbox.

I'd planned to write about the new movie from Simon Pegg and Michael Ian Black, Run, Fatboy, Run which I saw at an advanced screening last night (thanks, Mere!), but to be honest, it was neither a thing I loved, nor one I didn't. I liked it well enough but I found myself missing the subversive pop-culture references and sytlistic direction of a typical Pegg/(Stevenson)/Wright joint.

But what I would like to write about is the location of said screening, aka the best theatre in Houston, aka the Landmarks River Oaks Theatre. I love this movie theatre, y'all. In fact, it is probably my favorite theatre in America, second only to the original Alamo Drafthouse in Austin, which will always top any sort of ranking situation due to the fact that they serve actual food and also buckets of beer. But my odes to the Drafthouse shall have to wait for another day.

This is the River Oaks Theatre:




It's located in the (duh) River Oaks area of Houston, where all the hip rich folk live. I'm too poor to afford realty in the area, but they are nice enough to let us plebes roam the streets and dream about a more financially stable life. The theatre itself was built in 1939 and has been a Houston institution pretty much ever sense. It hosts first-run movies, indies and retrospectives. And, yes, it has a Rocky Horror Picture Show screening every weekend, at which I may have been present when I was a teenager. I'll say nothing about that.

The interior of the theatre is still that art-deco glam, with a small snack counter to the left and stairs leading to the second level (and the two smaller screens) to the right. And what greets you at the top of those stairs is the reason I love the River Oaks Theatre so much: a full bar.

Let me share with you a fundamental truth. No place in this entire world - not church, or a cupcake store, or a hospital birthing suite, or an old folks' home - not one place is so wonderful or awe-inspiring that its glory cannot be enhanced by a full bar. This is just a fact, people. Think back to the last time you felt absolutely one with the world, when your every breath was imbued with the satisfaction of knowing that you were exactly where you needed and wanted to be. Now, wouldn't that have been better with some whiskey?

The movies are no exception. Whether you're drinking to shut out the horror of what you're seeing, or to celebrate two animated rodents fall in love, you have to admit it all goes down better with the booze option. And this is why , more than the releases shown or its desperate attempt to make Houston a bit cooler, River Oaks Theatre is a good thing.

xx erin