We're Moving West

Anonymous Donor

2010-11-30T23:22:25Z

A box addressed to me (Sophie) arrived on our porch this morning, and these two engraved beer boots were inside - one with N on top, and the other with S. No note, no return address, no nothin'. Generally it's safe to give credit of any anonymous gifts to my mother, but after calling both her and my dad, it's still a mystery.

We have gone over all of the possible gift-givers... could it be Molly for thanking us for letting her stay last month? Or Nick's Aunt for thanking us for helping with family stuff? Or our landlord because we are helping her brew some beer? Maybe an early Christmas gift from another family member?

The problem is that we feel presumptuous and weird asking anyone if they are the gift givers. We don't want anyone to feel inferior when they answer "No, I did not buy you those awesome glasses. Should I have?"

So, dear beer-boot-buyer, if you are reading this, please show your face so that we can give you proper thank you. We love them.

You know you're in Texas if...

2010-11-30T02:03:33Z

We've now lived in Texas long enough to make some Jeff Foxworthy-esque observations about how people live in these here parts. The most interesting "you know you're in Texas if"? Parking lots. Apparently you can learn a lot about the patrons of a given place of business from the cars they leave outside.

Exhibit A.

This little number was parked half in, half out of a handicapped parking space with open windows, two snarling pitbulls, no license plate, and you guessed it, no disabled parking tag. Now to be fair, I recognize that it is probably a foregone conclusion that the driver of this clown car has some pretty major deficiencies, but I personally find it disturbing to think that this jackass is given license to leave his group home without his parking pass.

Exhibit B.

(Above: the sticker on the right says "To Do List: Pray, Vote, Buy More Ammo") I think this one pretty much speaks for itself. All that you need to know is that this truck was parked in the "compact car only" space at our local uber granola hippy provisions grocery Central Market. That's pretty much all you need to know about Austin--it's the home of both Whole Foods and this guy.

Thanks to these helpful reminders I stay aware of just where it is I have chosen to call home (at least for the time being). So here's to you parking lot douche bags, you keep me grounded.

Thanksgiving

2010-11-28T18:13:09Z

We spent Thankgiving at Nick's Aunt's ranch in Oklahoma. After stuffing ourselves on Thursday afternoon, Nick and I decided to go on a walk to help with the digestion of about fourteen pounds of food. The frost was still dripping off the trees from the night before as we made our way on the path. Though I really miss my family, I am thankful to be living closer to some of Nick's.

Giving Thanks to Fiesta Market

2010-11-24T15:02:42Z

Dear Fiesta,

Thank you for being you. Thank you for being open 24 hours a day and being within a five minute drive from our house. Thank you for your clean bathrooms and for hiring every pregnant teenager in Austin. Thank you for your weird spices, the curries in your Asian section, and your wide selection of disgusting sodas (like Peanut soda). Thank you for selling gold rings, fresh tacos, and paintings of Jesus. More than anything though, my dear Fiesta, thank you for your English section and for your awareness of the importance of Christmas.

Thank you for every foreign Christmas cookie imaginable.

Thank you for your vast selection of mince pies, fruit cakes, and Christmas puddings. (Even if one of them costs $28!)

Thank you for your Panettone shrine.

Thank you for your imported Heinz baked beans, your Ribena, your Irn Bru, your Bird's Custard, your Marmite, your Crunchie bars, and your Hob Nobs.

Thank you for making us look like idiots on Supermarket Sweep, putting everything in sight into our basket. Thank you for allowing me to share my first love (English junk food) with my second love (Nick).

Thank you, Fiesta.

Love Always and Forever,

Sophie & Nick

PS: Please start selling malt loaf.

Mexico

2010-11-22T23:49:03Z

We took a trip to Mexico a couple of summers ago. We walked across the border in Arizona with only what we could carry on our backs, some money saved up, and six weeks to kill. I can only imagine what the locals of the Mexican border town were thinking, wishing they could do the same but in the opposite direction. Someone might have tried to warn us "Stop! Go back! You will regret this!" but our Spanish is on the level of a developmentally disabled second grader, so we kept on. We found the bus station, bought tickets to go South, and started our adventure.

Adventure is really the only appropriate way to describe this trip. When people asked us how it was, we would answer with something like, "It was an adventure!" This answer saved us from the details, because no one wants to hear "Well, I now know what it feels like to overflow a toilet with only my own bodily waste and no water!" or "We spent 36 hours straight on a hot bus, and now know how we would each smell if we were to become homeless."

Of course now, two years removed, I think back on the trip fondly. I remember watching the sunrise over the rainforest in Guatamela, the tacos that didn't make me us sick, the beautiful clear ocean water, the Lucha Libre in Mexico City, meeting the Chavez' in Oaxaca. And I have conveniently forgotten the overnight bus rides, the hurricane ravaged towns, the constant fear of being ripped off, the frustration of a language barrier, and the amount of officials we bribed. That's the beauty of human memory; it's a filter that over time removes the bad parts.

These photos are about half of all the photos from the trip. I just found the negatives and was able to scan them to see the photos for the first time.

Creepy

2010-11-18T17:30:53Z

Nick got a few albums of old photos from his grandma last month, and as we were looking through them we came to the creepy realization that we looked exactly the same between the ages of seven and nine. He looked kind of like a girl, and I looked kind of like a boy, and since the gender spectrum at that age is so small, we met in the middle. Two little blonde-haired and ambiguously-gendered Zac Hanson lookalikes. See?

Scenes from Ghostbuck Ranch

2010-11-13T15:59:47Z

Rancher Dan getting us set up in the deer tent

Waiting for deer

Nick's cousin Jimmy teaching us how to shoot a bow. Turns out it's much more difficult than tying a bow.

Nick is a cat lady

Someone needs to to take this truck to Riggins Rigs

One of my favorite moments of the weekend - we ran the four mile perimeter of the ranch. The sun was shining and the Autumnal air was perfectly crisp. After the first 100 yards Nick and Margot were far ahead of me, so I took my time making my way around the ranch, getting lost, figuring out the way, and enjoying the scenery.

The best photo ever taken of Nick

2010-11-13T15:55:27Z

Er... I mean, Jeffrey.

Drivewayhenge

2010-10-29T16:06:50Z

As we were leaving for our usual evening run earlier this week I noticed a spraying of bright coral pink across our driveway. "Is the city marking it for construction?" I thought to myself, "Have some hoodlums vandalized our house for some reason? Did a unicorn vomit on our driveway after an all-night bender? Is something radioactive leaking from the middle of the earth and making its presence known at our house?"

Really the options were endless, and I was terrified. I investigatingly kicked at the gravel, and nothing changed. When I looked up, I realized that the sun was at the perfect angle to shine through the bright pink awning of the beauty college across the street and onto the exact width of our driveway. Our own personal, trashy stonehenge.

The amazing part of this is that after 6 months of living in this house and being outside at approximately this time many many times, this is the first we have seen of the phenomenon. This leads me to believe either #1: This only happens for a week per year, making it a very special and rare event, like the Hale-Bopp Comet of 1997. Or #2: This awning was recently installed. I am disregarding the second option and going with #1: This is very special, and very rare.

I am familiar with the confusion surrounding Stonehenge, and I hate the idea of future humans standing around our driveway with their hands on their heads and pulling at their hair saying "Why?!" "How?!" "What does it mean!?" So, to prevent future generations any distress, I have buried stone carvings all around the house. They will explain, using symbols, that there are 10 red lights, each lasting about 15 minutes per day, occuring for 10 consecutive days each year. Once 10 red light have occured, small people will emerge from their houses dressed as inanimate objects and demanding candy.

Dear Noble Prize Committee, my name is Sophie Shepherd.

Good Things Lately

2010-10-19T15:01:24Z

Margot came to visit and we had a fun time. We ate a lot of BBQ in Lockhart and then went to Feast in Houston and proceeded to "feast" on their 9-course tasting menu of weird meats: kidneys, livers, tongues, bones, marrow, and snouts. It was as gross as it sounds and we have been constipated (despite not eating any more meat) ever since.

We have a glittery skeleton on our front door.

We had a day of momentary insanity and painted our living room the exact shade of Kraft Mac N' Cheese. We actually tested it with a bowl of Kraft and it matches perfectly. With our green pinball machine, aqua hutch and red couch the room looks a little bit Hotel California meets Pancho's Mexican Grill -- but I'll take that over the baby boy's bedroom look it had going on before.
Nick has somehow developed Situationlike abs after running for last few months. In other news, when I run I still have to wear stretch shorts to prevent a chaffing rash from my thighs rubbing together. That skinny bastard.

We voted for our first time ever at our local giant 24-hour Mexican grocery store. One of these days I'll write a full love-letter post about this store.

I usually run over this bridge about halfway through my run. It's where I allow myself to walk, catch my breath, enjoy the sites, and usually watch some of the sunset. Someone wrote on the parallel bridge "Focus on one point and breathe" and I try to do just that. A few days ago this paddle boat came from beneath me with a live band and people dancing. It was a nice moment.