“It’s Like The Baby Jesus!”

Before I start, a couple of brief announcements.

First off, there’s a “Vampire Community Accountability” survey at http://www.veritasvosliberabit.com/accountability.html . Go check it out, fill it out, etc.

Secondly, I was interviewed by the Real Vampire News network thingiemabob. On my part, it was nice, though they didn’t edit my answers at all. That’s both good and bad. Good, because they didn’t change my answers. Bad, because I didn’t proofread myself at all (except to make sure Asiatic really was a word), assuming their editors would fix my massive amounts of grammatical errors. C’est la vie. Anyways, go check it out at http://realvampirenews.com/website-spotlight-the-donors-haven/ .


Today’s story comes from my job, with a dash of Norse and Christian mythos tossed in for flavor.

For those who don’t know, I work in a factory. We make kids drinks, coctail mixes, and what we like to call “Adult Capri Suns”, aka wine cooler slushies in a pouch. I run a line that makes kids drinks. Shockingly, I make more money now than when I made the alcohol based drinks. Who’da thunk it, right?

Well, there’s three kinds of caps used here: screw on (think soda pop bottles); press on (think of the milk caps that you have to peel off the bit around the side); and melt on. I work with the melt on caps. They are both complicated and deceptively easy. Foil cap goes on plastic bottle. Bottle goes under a metal “puck” that’s heated to round about 450 degrees Fareinheit, melting the plastic bottle rim to the foil cap. Tada!

Here’s a puck, all shiny and clean.

Clean Puck

Here’s a puck on top of a bottle. The groove on the side of the puck is where it locks into the capper machine.

Puck on a bottle, to demonstrate how it works.

And this is what a group of them look like all nastified and soaking in restaurant quality grill cleaner. It’s a combo of burnt sugar and plastic residue, which will be explained later in the actual story.

Ewwww! Don't worry, though. None of this can actually touch a drinking surface!

Sunday evenings, I go in an hour early to work. I set up my line, turn on all the machines and the like, and make sure everything is running properly, and that the “juice” is mixed correctly before any of the other employees that work on my line come in, so there’s little downtime. One of the first things I do is change the pucks. Throughout the week they get bits of melted plastic and burnt sugar collected on them, due to bottles that go into the machine wrong, the cap not staying on right between the filler and the capper, what have you. We run between 340-380 bottles per minute. There’s bound to be fucked up bottles eventually. Well, this gunk is a problem. You see, the inside of the puck is shaped to cup the top of the bottle, and apply even heat so the seal seals properly. This stuff, if enough accumulates, can mess with that, and cause partial seals, push the cap off to one side, what have you. Not fun, and makes more work for myself and the others on my line. So, at least once a week (more if the machine is being a royal pain and not wanting to do a damned thing right), we rotate out the pucks to a clean set.

By “we”, I mean “me”.

For some odd reason, the other two shifts at work now insist that they never, ever are to change out the pucks, and that it is solely the perview of graveyard. *insert eyerolls here*

So. Imagine my surprise when I go to get the pucks I scrubbed clean on Friday, and find that the bucket is full of dirty, grimy pucks, plus the clean spare. I immediately called my manager over, and we declared it a miracle, on par with the Virgin Birth. Just like the birth of Jesus, this doesn’t happen. Ever.

Hell, it’s nearly as rare as a near virgin birth, like the story of Osmotar. Don’t know the story? Well, Osmotar was getting married, and when she was planning the reception, she and her mother realized “Oh shit. No one’s invented beer yet!” So, after her mother failed horribly, Osmotar got a weird idea in her head. First, she put a splinter in her girlie place, and gave birth to a squirrel, who brought back, depending on the story teller, hops or pinecones. That didn’t do it, though it did taste better. So she stuck a wood chip in her girlie place, and out popped a bird. That birdie brought back bear spit, cause it was foamy. Ick, but closer. So Osmotar stuck a flower up there, and gave birth to a bee. It flew and brought back honey to add to the pot. That was the final thing needed, and soon the beer was foaming up and over flowing everywhere. And yet, she was still considered a virgin when married, cause she never had a boy part in her girlie part before her honeymoon. Don’t believe me, look it up.

So yeah. I’m still shocked, and all “OMG, daylight and/or evening shift ACTUALLY DID SOMETHING other than sit on their ass all night!”

The End


So, I spend a lot of time with my mom. Helps that we’re neighbors & ride to work together. But still, my mom is odd, & confusing. People from the outside instantly take it as “HOMG! Pixie! Your mom is SOOOOO COOL!” Yeah. Mmhmm.
She has her moments, I admit. Giving me a tarot deck for my sweet 16, finding cool shops while lost, etc.
Well, see, Mom has “The gift of gab”, as she puts it. She likes to write up funny family stories. I admit that they are very well written, & I think, if compiled into book form (like The Bloggess did), it would sell very well. There is just one drawback.
I’m in her family, therefore not imune to being written about. Think “Well, that’s cool, tho!”? Think again. How would you feel if your mother wrote an article, for example, about how you told her you were no longer a virgin? And then, in her way, hyper-exaggerated bits of it? Then, to top it off, post it on a then popular website, where classmates (cause you’re still in high school) have been known to look.
Still cool? Didn’t think so. Now, she didn’t name the child (I’m one of a lot), but she did give birth order. And, when you live in a small town, everyone knows if you’re the oldest, second, third, etc.
I still think she should do the book. Well, with a caveat. The kids talked about have the right to say “No, you can’t use that story” or “If you use it, you have to de-exaggerate it to how it actually happened, or no go”.
I think it’s fair. If it sells well, the stories will be EVERYWHERE, not just hidden away on a website in the far reaches of cyberspace.
Now, before people get in a huff about us wanting to censor our mother… the example I used? It happened. The story was printed out & passed around classes, etc. The subject about died of embarrassment, then called Mom, screaming “Oh my God, how the HELL could you do that to me? I didn’t say half that shit, and it’s being passed around. No, I don’t care how many hits you got, or that you’re paid ten cents per hit. Take. It. Down. Now.”
See our side, now?
But, I still want to eventually be able to hold up a New York Times bestseller, and go “My mom wrote this”. So, I’ll harp & nitpick until she gets a manuscript together. Until then, keep an eye on my twitter feed. I quote Mom a lot. A lot a lot. She’s funny.


So, my mom is big on family ties, and where we come from. She’s been researching her side of the family for years, trying to figure out who’s related to who, but mostly to figure out A) when we migrated from Europe to America & B) WTF happened to my great great grandparents, & why they sent their kids two states away to an orphanage after they divorced.
Me, I have it both easier & harder going for my dad’s side. Luckily for me, a cousin did a majority of the work about 6 years ago. What I’m doing now is plugging the info in from the emails forwarded to me into Ancestry.com, then go back & try to fill in the gaps, & verify the information is correct.
Seems easy, but it’s a pain. First, the site apparently is finicky, & likes to refresh while I’m inserting people. Then, you have to figure out if so & so is a boy or a girl. Like, I’ve a few Francis’s. Most are male, but a few aren’t. Then you get the oddball names, that don’t show up in modern baby name books, like Mahal. Also, in a far strung branch, I’ve apparently got a MALE cousin named, get this, Princess. Also factor in that my family settled in a pioneer state, and has so far married cousins back into the main line. Thank goodness, I’m not decended from them. But it gets twisty. I’m just happy it isn’t a wreath, versus a tree.
But I was silly. I work graveyard shift, so me sleeping in on the weekend is getting up  at 2am. I did. Then, about 5 I hopped on the web looking for free programs to make the tree making easy. No go. Win 7 doesn’t like them. So, I dug up the emails, made an Ancestry account, & went at it. Next thing I new, it was 7:30… pm. Shit.
I have to be ready between 10 & 10:30pm for work on Sunday nights. I lay down for a nap, but didn’t drift off til about 8:30. And then my alarm went off at 9:30. Yay. Joy of joys. If it weren’t for the fact that I wouldn’t get paid if I called off, I’d be at home, curled up & passed the fuck out, but… Money keeps a roof over my head, Mt Dew in my fridge, & kibble in Cricket’s dish. So I’ve a couple 5hr Energy Drinks in my purse, I’ve chugged a 20 oz Mt Dew, & am waiting to clock in.
All cause I got an itch to straighten my family tree.

Mom… Don’t hand her new technology.

My mother. Everyone loves her. Lord & Lady know why, but I’ve apparently been “blessed” with what has been termed “A cool mom”. But there’s a downfall. I have to live with her as my mom.
My mom stumbles upon weird and crazy shit (when not creating it, herself). She finds weird books. Case in point?


This. Seriously?!? Yes, I bought it. Cricket sheds so much, I’m surprised he still has fur. But I wouldn’t have it if she hadn’t found it.
Mom’s new fascination? She wants a smartphone. Not to make calls. Not to keep up with her blogs (yes, plural) or other social media. She wants it for one singular, solitary app.
Mom wants Songify.
She finds those videos of autotuned news reports hilarious. But she doesn’t want to do that. No.
You see, Mom can’t sing. Family legend states that when I was two years old, Mom was singing a nursery rhyme to me. And, supposedly, I said, “Mommy, please stop. Your singing hurts my ears.”
Songify will cure that for her. So her ingenious idea?
Record all of her stories, then autotune them into songs for my siblings & myself.
So, we were out yesterday, cause my phone kicked the bucket & I needed a replacement. So, at the first cell phone store, she’s looking at a display case of used phones. She doesn’t buy one because the cheapest they have is $100, & she just spent oodles @ Best Buy buying a laptop. (She almost bought an android tablet, but thought better of it.)
When we get to a location that can actually solve my phone issue, the guy notices I’m the only person on my plan, & asked if Mom would be interested in being added to my plan. She said no. She only wanted a smartphone for one app, & gave the guy her speil. At the end, she asked, “You wouldn’t happen to have a used smartphone that no one wants that I could have?”
” *chuckles* Sorry. I actually would give you one if we had one just to check it out. And I’m totally downloading that app now.”
If you have an old smartphone that you’re willing to part with, Mom wants it. So so badly. She even joked (at least, I hope she was joking) that she was going to peruse Craigslist & eBay.

Annoying post about my cat

I have a cat. He’s not my first. I grew up with cats as a kid, but Cricket (that’s his name) is my first non-fish pet since I moved out on my own. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Meester Feeshie & Meester Feeshie the 2nd. But you can’t cuddle a beta.
Cricket is my little fur-baby. He’s so cute! If you follow my twitter (it’s over on the side) it’s often full of silly pictures of him.


That’s him going “Need… Energy… Plug me in, woman!”
Just over a year ago (May 23, to be exact), I brought him home. His favorite napping spot is a corner of the top of my sectional. He has a weird fascination with plastic. And he has a temper at times, so I have scratches on my ankles & hands occasionally.


That’s his pissed off “You’re taking my picture AGAIN?!?” look.
So. That’s my annoying postyness.

Mom’s lesson on how to drink like a lady

My mom is unique. Really. Sometimes it’s in a truely marvelous way, like she’s the best mom ever, and everyone should bow down to her. Other times… Well, she’s my mom. I’m obligated to be embarrased of or by her at times. It’s in the Daughter Handbook. *Girl Scout Honor*

In comparison to some other Moms I know, I have to admit, my mom’s pretty damned cool. How many people have mom’s that used to be a DJ, and would test songs on her kids using the “If my kids dance around like maniacs to it, the crowd will love it” method? Or insist, that even if we were born with two left feet, that we must, and I mean MUST, know how to do every version of the Electric Slide, The Bird, The Chicken Dance, a little bit of swing dance, and how to “Drop it like it’s hot”?

She also took me out for my first legal drink when I turned 21.

We were living in New Jersey, just on the other side of the Ben Franklin Bridge. My original plans? Go to Philly with a couple of friends and do the “traditional” bar crawl of the South Side, and see how many free drinks I got before my friend drove me home. Yeah, didn’t happen. My best friend’s girlfriend decided to have a drama fit, so he drove me home before the sun set. Bum. Mer.

So, Mom insisted in taking me out. First stop, the Burger King drive through. Can’t drink on an empty stomach, don’t ya know? Then we drove. And drove. And drove. We drove around for about 2 hours trying to find a bar with the right “vibe”. I don’t know what she was looking for exactly, but what we ended up doing has affected my tastes in bars ever since.

We ended up at the bar two buildings down from where I worked, and less than 5 minutes (if you hit EVERY red light) from home. It was a total blue collar dive bar, and I’ve felt more comfortable in places like that since. Brightly lit bars/clubs with trendy music and/or DJ’s, “Mixologists”, and the trappings that go with it don’t do it for me. Give me a dimly lit, smokey place with a friendly bartender that knows how to pull a draft with just the right amount of foam, knows your basic, classic coctails, and doesn’t charge an arm and a leg for them. Great, cheap food is a plus.

So, we go to the counter, and Mom orders 2 Long Islands. One for her, one for me. I go snag a table nearby while she stays put, watching the bartender mix them. Did I mention Mom used to be one? So she knows what goes into one. The 4 white wells, triple sec (or, if out, Country Time Lemonade), and coke.

“Ohhhh shit… Oh shiiiiit. God damnit.. Shit shit shit.”

Now, I look young for my age, so of course, I had to show my ID. The bartender was sweet, and told me happy birthday. Then, promptly adjusted Mom’s order so I’d start my birthday off with a kick.

Did we get Long Islands? Oh, noooo. We got Texas Tea’s. Not just that, but heavy handed Texas Tea’s. What’s a Texas Tea, you ask? Okay, first off, the Long Island is actually a family of drinks. There’s the classic, the Tokyo Tea (which has Midori added to the mix), the Long Beach (replace the coke with a splash of cranberry and orange juice), and the Texas Tea. There are probably other variations, but these are the most common. All start with the same basic ingredients, known as the 4 white wells. These are the basic clear liquors that are most common in drinks: vodka, gin, white rum, and tequila. So, a Long Island is a shot each those 4, triple sec (an orange liquor) or bar syrup (think simple syrup), and coke. Easy, right?

So, a Texas Tea is special. You take the 4 white wells, the triple sec and coke… Then add another shot of tequila. Everything’s bigger in Texas, right? Well, this bartender went heavy handed. He didn’t just put a shot of everything in, he put in about double the alcohol, almost no ice.. And could barely fit in the coke.


So, Mom taught me how NOT to drink. See, addiction runs strongly in my father’s side of the family. Well, in my father. And she didn’t want me to become an alcoholic, so she wanted me to have a horrible hangover the next day. One of those “I’m never drinking like that again” kind of nights. So, she had me push the orange slice down to the bottom, and drink the whole thing through the straw, then eat the orange.

If you want to get drunk fast, that is the way to do it. If you’d rather savor your drink… Don’t. Doesn’t help that on top of doing that (first time drinking hard liquor. I had had beer/wine coolers before, though) my older brother, in his infinite wisdom, said that I must -MUST- have a shot of Jager since he couldn’t be there. (He was in Iraq on his first deployment).

Yeah… I was DRUNK. Only things I remember from that is the bar TV was on ESPN, comparing Alex Trebek and some other Alex that played baseball (cause they were both Canadian), with me and Mom rooting for Trebek, me insisting that I could walk a straight line (it was diagonal. Straight, but not forward.), and my step dad chewing my mom out for getting me so wasted, and then driving me home while she, herself, was drunk.

Thank god that Mom and I are both cheap dates.

As it is, her little lesson has stuck with me. While I do enjoy the taste of a coctail once in a while, I stick to her “rule” of only imbibing a handful of times a year, typically holidays, plus one freebie. I rarely get drunk off my ass because I seriously don’t like the feeling. I’ve only gotten very drunk once, and I swore to never repeat it. (We were out celebrating a friend’s birthday, it was my first time drinking sake, and I honestly don’t remember getting in my friend’s car to go home, nor singing “Twinkle Twinkle” in the backseat. Never. Again.)

Now, I do go to a bar quite often (once or twice a week after work), but I can count on one hand (with fingers left over) how many times I had a drink in the past 4 years of going there. The bar has a cool atmosphere, ginormous breakfasts for dirt cheap, coffee to die for that does NOT taste like the crap Starbucks shits out, and wi-fi. The bartender knows me by name, knows what I want when I say “I’ll have my usual”, and asks me what cool new music is out.

And, more times than not, it’s Mom that wants to go, not me. Oh well.. Just means she has to pick up the tab. 🙂

March 17, somewhere in the air between Austin, TX and Baltimore, MD…

So, this has been an interesting month for everyone’s favorite Pixie. I’ve been working on my goal list (yay, for staying in my budget, and busting out a song for SongFight!), am currently flying home from the South By SouthWest festival, where I got to meet up with many friends, my vamp, and make contacts with other musicians in my field (Canadians are some of my favorite people right now.)

Alas, this past month has not been without it’s tragedies. A year (to the day) after my stepdad was cremated, we were burying my final grandparent, my maternal Gma. She was 88 years old, going on 21, and crazy cool up until the last moments. Telling baudy jokes, teasing the spouses/significant others of her 20 gagillion grandkids… We were at my uncle’s house afterwards, and read through all of the memory cards that people filled out. Highlights were as follows:

1)      The time she bought a case load of VHS porn at a garage sale, thinking they were educational/tourist films, and insisting on watching “Debbie Does Dallas” after Thanksgiving dinner cause “It’s been so long since we were last there… I think I’d like to see how it’s changed!” And then, when she found out just what she bought, she passed them on to a cousin’s husband… Then wanted to know if he’d watched them all 6mos later, cause she wanted them back. She payed $5 for that box, she wasn’t just going to give them away!

2)      The time she called the police because she insisted her granddaughter’s roommates kidnapped her, and refused to let said g-daughter talk on the phone. Reality? They were busy hauling boxes down 3 flights of stairs to a U-Haul cause they were moving to a new apartment, and honestly didn’t have the time to talk. Gma was in Indiana, G-Daughter was in Oregon. Somehow she convinced the PDX PD to go check out the situation. G-Daughter, her roommate, and the friend that was there to help had to show their ID to the police AND the Campus PD (They were in a college dorm at the time), and rip through boxes of books to find where the boarding pass stub from her flight went off to, to prove she came of her own volition. Everyone involved was 21+. To the day she died, Gma still insisted she was kidnapped.

3)      Indiana law is that once you hit age 65 or so, you have to renew your driver’s license yearly with the written exam. (I think. Someone can correct me if it’s changed.) Well, when she was about 69, she went down to renew her license. She failed the test by 1 question. Was she going to let that slide? Oh HELL no. She made my mother drive her across the county to another DMV (cause the internet was slow as molasses back then, so it hadn’t been received that she failed the test yet) so she could take the test and get her renewal. She missed the SAME DAMNED QUESTION! (Honestly, it was a bit of a trick question. “A tractor trailer takes how long to come to a complete stop?” Answer, according to the test “300 yards, or 4 football fields.” A football field is 100 yards. Now you see why so many people get it wrong. The math just does not compute!) So my mother had to drive her to the last DMV in our county, right before closing time. THANK GODS, Gma finally passed the damned test. Mom flat out told her, “Next time, you’re driving yourself. This is ridiculous!”

I loved my Gma. She was a second mom to my sisters and I, since Mom moved in with her after my parent’s divorce (Gpa passed away when I was a baby). And we had such a close bond. A selfish part of me was hoping that she would hang around just a bit longer, since she only had 2 granddaughters left that were unmarried (myself included), but she always said that four years ago, she saw the light. Apparently it is as pretty as everyone with NDE’s says. She saw my Gpa and other loved ones, and was happy, cause she knew where she was going. But, she told that light “You can just hold your horses until I am good and ready. I’ve still got too much to do down here.”

My Gma outlasted all of her siblings, her husband, and one of her sons-in-law (my stepdad). At the time that she passed, she had 3 children (Mom, my uncle, and my aunt), 12 grandkids (even though 2 technically were step-grandkids), and 11 great grandkids. My mom jokes that my sisters and I are slacking on the kid department, since the only children from us are 2 dogs and 6 cats, all told. No two-legged kids yets.

Next thing. I’m on an airplane. Whee. Wait, scratch that. I hate heights, hence the Acrophobic in front of my name. But, I am returning home from the South By SouthWest Music and Film festival. I spent almost a whole week in Austin, catching up with my friends and musicians whom I adore. And I got my cute new baby, my laptop! (I’ll add pictures when I get the chance)

I got on my plane early on Monday, and landed in Texas around 4pm. I had a 2 hour layover in Chicago, and proceded to stuff my face with a gyro, 2 cheeseburgers, and 2 orders of fries while there. I hadn’t eaten since 4am, and was STARVING. My friend picked me up at the airport, we went to grab my badge (Platinum, baby!), meet another friend who works for South By, and proceeded to meet up with “The Canadians”, aka a whole bunch of musicians we know from Canada. They were all super sweet and constantly hugging or chinking everyone’s beer’s. We hit a shop called Wild About Music, where I got a solar powered phone charger (Hot pink and awesome), and a girlfriend bought a blingy piano bracelet. Then we all headed to Halcyon for beers while waiting for the rest of our group, then on to the Chronicle party. The band playing (can’t remember the name, and the info is in my checked luggage) was awesome. Smooth singer with a highly talented band to back her up. There was tons of free food and it was oh so good. Several types of quesadilla’s, gourmet grilled cheese sandwhiches (Tim, Socks, and Choke took those off my plate), homemade tamales of pure yum, nachos, some of the best guacamole ever, and taquitos. Free beer was flowing (we all chose Heineken, cause it was in the big cans, vs the 12 oz cans) and everyone was chilling out and having a good time. We didn’t leave until about midnight to go “home”.

The next morning, we had to be up bright and early, cause I was volunteering at SXSWCreate, an interactive panel about hacking the planet to make it better. I so totally want a maker bot. I was drooling over them the entire time they were running. I met the guy who invented Code Hero, the video game that teaches you how to make video games. Also, he’s the guy who designed the Tactical corsets!!! He is now, and ever more, my hero. There was the local Hackerspace crew there, demonstrating things they built, and how hacking isn’t evil. A guy from the College of Lockpicking was there, giving lessons and selling kits. I can get myself out of handcuffs now, and pick up to a 5 pin tumbler lock. 6 pins, and I get stuck. A guy did a talk on these habi-pods he designed after Katrina. They’re super awesome, lightweight, and can fit 4 comfortably. FEMA is apparently looking at them for disaster relief, to replace the trailers. Another guy gave info on turning a shipping container into a comfortable living space, and also how to make a manufacturing facility out of one. He did it in Kenya to make inexpensive, attractive, stoves, and he was seeing profit within 4-6 months after start up.

As soon as my volunteer post was done, I booked my booty over to the Flamingo Cantina for the Nerdcore Showcase. Since they don’t serve food, I hopped next door to the Casino El Cantina, and saw my first celebrity!! Mike Pinchek (I think that’s his name. The husky bald guy that does music news and reviews for VH1) was sitting by me while I ordered food. SO COOL! No, I didn’t get the nerve to ask for his autograph. He was in a conversation, so I didn’t want to be rude. Also, I got super shy. So, fast taco, went outside, waited… And waited… Then ran in, got to hang in the green room before the show with the performers, cause I’m awesome like that, and rocked out.

Brandon Patton (aka Bl4k Lotus) was on first, and was great, as usual. I was sitting next to MC Frontalot, and we did the swaying, sing along with the lighters in the air thing, together. Next up, after a brief intermission while they set up the turntables, was Adam Warrock. He actually made Justin Beiber’s “Baby” palatable, by sampling the beat and turning it into “June”. Check it out. Following him was Thesis Sahib. Very interesting to say the least. He has a hat that has mic distorters sewn into it, you can’t see his mouth, and he makes his backing music on the fly with a modded GameBoy. Also? He’s an artist, with a book out of his prints and a matching vinyl of soundscapes to match each image. Very nice.

Next on deck were the Thought Criminals. kHill and I have been friends for awhile, so it was great to finally see him perform live. They had a guest star, Jennifer, who played the triangle on “All the Coins”. They apparently had a distorted mic, cause when she played, it mimicked the coin sound from Mario Bros. After TC, it all starts to get mixed up in my head cause I’d A) had a couple of drinks and B) everyone helps everyone else, so one person would be on, and then everyone else would hop up for songs they were featured on. I think, next, was Ghettosocks and Timbuktu, aka TeenBurger. That was just so smooth and great. I know, I’m saying great and awesome too much. Sue me. After them was More or Les, with one S featuring FreshKils on his M-1000. Socks and Timb jumped on stage to perform “Pop ‘n Chips”. Jesse Dangerously was up next, and he only lasted one song before he ripped off his shirt. And yet, miraculously, the flower he had stuck in his beard? Didn’t budge an inch. JD was awesome, and spent a song or two on the floor in the middle of the crowd, so we could jam with him.

Mark Schaffer, aka Schaffer the Darklord, was next. He did some of my fave songs, like “Bender”, “Tom Girl”, “Cat People”, and more. The man moves TOO GODS DAMNED FAST for a human to get a decent photo of him performing. I think, 1 out of every dozen isn’t a total blur. After this point is where I screwed myself over. Unfortunately, I needed a bathroom break. But, I was thinking that my friend (or her boyfriend-type-person) would hold my spot. I come out, and she’s heading to the greenroom, dragging the guy behind her. Oh, well. I grabbed a quick smoke while they tore down the stage so MC Frontalot and his band could set up, started showing the pics to the artists, and had a random woman (I think she was with YT Cracker) buy me a blue Kamikaze. Luckily, the FC is set up oddly, and has seating built into the wall in levels. I got on the highest level in the corner so I could see most of the stage and get decent pics. Only had to get down so I could get better shots of Vic-20 and Sturgis.

Next day? Slept in til like, 1pm. We didn’t get in til 2h30am. The plan for Weds was basically snag free food, free stuff, then head to Malaia for the BackBurner Crew, DualCore, MC Lars, YT Cracker, & Megaran/Random show. I went through the entire trade show. Got free ear plugs from HP Cloud Services, a few free shirts, tons of business cards (most pitched), candy, bottled water, beer, music downloads and CD’s, and a RUNNUR strap purse thing. About 4h30 I went on the hunt for the College of Lockpicking party with Ayapoh and her bf. Had some odd (tho tasty) gourmet pizza while Ayapoh and the bf learned to pick locks. Next, was scurrying over to Malaia, since we were 2 of the 4 Merch Girls for the show.

Una Problema. We had no table. SXSW had a hard time finding a table for the turntables, let alone find one for merchandise. The manager of Malaia is a royal dickwad. NO ONE was using the tables along the wall, but could we move and use them? No. Could we use the curved table thing their DJ uses? No. Could we use an outlet so we could keep the laptop with the point of sale program running? Technically, no. Did we hide the charger under a pile of our purses? Yes.

But, we found a table! Someone’s bf bought a really nice table off of a hobo in a parking garage for $10. We didn’t ask questions, just whipped out the ducttape and started laying out the merch. Unfortunately, we were back by the entrance, so seeing the show was impossible through the crowd, but we were dancing and singing along to every song. And everyone was giving us shoutouts from the stage. I went on the hunt for decent food, since next door the IFC Roadhouse was taunting us with the smell of maple syrup and popcorn. Found this lil cart called Funk In Chicken. It’s a skewer about 18” (if not longer) full of bits of chicken and toast covered in an awesome sauce. I picked up 4 BBQ and 1 Sesame (for us to split), and fought my way back to the club. Apparently, best food decision ever. People either scarfed it down fast (ie: Schaffer ate the Sesame one in like, 2 seconds flat, I swear. One second, full skewer. I turn to take a drink of soda, and his skewer is bare.) or shared bites with some of the guys who had finished performing. My payment from Schaffer for the one I gave him? He has to come to Pittsburgh sometime for a show, and give me ample notice.

The club was rocking til 2am, when everyone (save us) was told “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here, so get your butt out.” All the guys signed CD’s I bought from them. Socks gave me one of his CD’s for free (I had run out of cash, but he apparently was planning on it before then). Hugs were passed around, and apparently the trek getting the merch table back to the guys’s hotel room (and all but one Canadian was drunk of their booty) was hilarious. I missed out on that. I was on my way back to my buddy’s place to crash. Thursday was nice and slow. We rode the light rail in (omg, if you have a major event happening, run the public transit more than only once an hour.) and went off in search of food. Maggie Mae’s had free bbq and the fixin’s available, so I stuffed my face with Ayapoh. We then went exploring, played with lego’s at the convention center, and got feather extensions in our hair. We then split apart. I went to the Nerdcore BBQ, which is a yearly event for those in the know. The onion rings were great, but I didn’t really like the rest of my food. Hung out with the guys for a bit, then went back downtown, and back to Maggie Mae’s. I thought it was across the street from the Alamo Draft House where my friend was seeing a movie. Wrong. Didn’t know there were 4 locations. So, I went to the Iron Cactus to wait. The bartender was able to charge my phone, but only if I bought a drink. I normally drink a Long Beach. The bartender had his own spin on that drink family, called a “Lights Out”. I lost count after the 6th bottle of liquor used… So, halfway through the drink, which tasted like a peachy lemonade, the alcohol snuck up on me. Whoo. I was fairly tipsy by the time I got back to SXSW HQ to meet up with my ride so I could go sleep and pack up my stuff.

Friday was pure win. Woke up, hangover free, and packed my things. My Jadey had driven into town the night before (she’s from Texas), so she came by, picked me and my things up, and we went for a girl’s day out. First off, Cheesecake Factory for noms. We were so full, no cheesecake :,( . We asked our waiter if he knew anyone who would know the best play to get manicures. He asked the resident gay guy (not one of the many waitresses/hostesses), and said we were in for a treat. So, mani-pedi’s. We spent THREE HOURS getting massages and all this random pampering done. Oh, it was wonderful. And, “Where The Heart Is” was playing on the tv, so we got to grab a chick flick at the same time! Next stop was Office Depot. Why, you may ask? Well, Jadey insisted she owed me two birthday presents. So, let’s bring Pixie into the modern age with a laptop. Oh, it’s so pretty!!!! I got a Toshiba, and it’s gunmetal blue and so sweet… *sigh* Luckily, there was a Ross’s next door. I got so much free stuff, I needed another suitcase to check! It’s purple and spins and is just generally cool.

Using Yelp!, we found a hole in the wall Vietnamese restaurant and had some wonderful pho. I had the pho rau with steamed veggies, and Jade had the one with a bit of everything in it. Duc biet or something. The walls were decorated with art for sale, and one wall was Nintendo Pixel art made out of meltybeads. Very cool looking. We then left with our leftovers, cause one serving was HUGE, and tried to find a way downtown so I could give my friend back her housekey, and possibly meet up with a couple of friends, to introduce them to Jade and take last pictures/give hugs goodbye. Unfortunately, traffic was INSANE, so Jade dropped me off outside of where my friend was so I could do a quick drop off, and she drove in a circle back to me. Due to this issue, we gave up on meeting up with my friends (getting down to the key hand off position took an hour, alone), and went back to the hotel. Went to bed, then woke up insanely early, nommed a waffle in the shape of Texas, then hopped on the courtesy shuttle to the airport. And now, here I am, writing this in the air on my way home. As soon as I get a chance, I’ll be uploading this to my blog.

Til next time!