6:30 a.m.: Okay, so Day 1 of SXSW kicked my ass. Despite having worn my Reefs, which are undoubtedly some of the most comfy shoes I own, my feet are killing me. I planned to get up to go for a run, partially to stay in my routine, and partially to work off all of the delicious, yet calorie-ridden street food and adult beverages I’ve been consuming. I stumble into the bathroom, half-awake, and manage to brush my teeth and wash my face before saying, “Eff this.” I go back to bed for another 3 hours.
9:30 a.m.: Wake up attempt #2. This one is more successful. Shower, check work emails and voicemails. No emergencies. Get dressed and head downtown to meet Paul (who has driven up from San Antonio – again – for an appointment).
12:00 p.m.: Not only do I find a parking space in the same lot that I parked in the night before, but the parking attendant has placed a cone in my previous parking space. He saved the spot for me! (See, ladies and gentleman… overtipping is never a bad thing. A little cash, a little appreciation and a kind word go a long way in this town. Those of you who continuously refuse to tip generously deserve whatever crappy service you get.) My new parking BFF tells me that if I need to go anywhere for any reason, to just let him know, and he will save my spot for me. Yay!
12:15 p.m.: I’m craving a pecan crusted chicken salad from Z Tejas like whoa. So I take a long, leisurely walk down 6th Street and satisfy my salad craving. I also drink about 15 glasses of water. The waitress is so disturbed by my hydration habits that she leaves a pitcher of H20 on the table for me because, try as she might, she just can’t keep up. I think she’s brilliant, and I decide I need an entire pitcher of water at every meal.
1:30 p.m.: While walking back towards the festivities, I’m compelled to drop in to Lululemon and check out some new Bikram shorts. Omigoodness. Too much good stuff. Staying out all night. Can’t carry it all. Eff. I leave empty-handed.
2:00 p.m.: I had a great walk back up 6th Street, and I’ve got my iPhone out, trying to figure out who I planned to see today. None of my pre-planned acts start before 5:00 p.m., so I touch base with Rob and Camron. Decide I don’t want to fight crazy lines for free beer and mediocre bands, and would rather pay for my drinks and listen to good music. So, of course, I duck into Nuno’s to see who’s playing for the Red Gorilla Music Festival. Oh my goodness, I’m glad I did. I’m always happy to be at Nuno’s, but today is especially awesome. After giving Tank and Christopher their first hugs of the day (there will be more, because as we all know, I love the hugs!), I step inside, grab my new day drink (Malibu & pineapple: hydration + a taste of the tropics) and take a seat near the door. An artist named Justin Black has just started playing, and I swear, I experience an emotional rollercoaster during his set. ‘Devil Tree’ leaves me feeling a bit remorseful for things long forgotten; ‘Land of the Sun’ leaves me feeling reminicent for my days in San Diego and at the same time, happy to be back home in Texas; and ‘Shine’ is pretty much just inspirational as all hell. I almost cry during the set. I’m so amazed that I text Joyce from Fearless Records in the middle of the 2nd song and tell her to get her ass over to Nuno’s. But, she’s in a music conference, so I settle for handing her card to the band after the show. In doing so, I make friends with the whole band, abscond with some CDs, and become very excited to hear they’re playing again on Saturday. I promise to go see them, and then hang back in Nuno’s a little while longer to listen to a few more artists.
4:00 p.m.: I love being at Nuno’s, but I can’t escape the feeling that I need to be enjoying the gorgeous day outside, and I also really like talking to Tank, Chris and Nuno II, so I spend about half of my time outside on the street, and half of it inside, drinking or relaxing. I meet Jo, who’s down from the Mopac location to help out for the night, and decide she’s a pretty cool chick. Right about the time I think I might head over to the Convention Center for Third Eye Blind, I get a text from Lindsay asking if I know of any way to get Daniel into the Metallica show. I think for a moment, consider how much Daniel loves Metallica, acknowledge the fact that I’ve already been to at least one show for every band I wanted to see tonight, and tell Daniel to get his ass over to Nuno’s so I can give him my wristband for the night. (I know, cardinal sin of SXSW: thou shalt not share wristbands. But I paid for it, and I wanted my friend to have it, so… there.) Besides, staying at Nuno’s for the night is never a bad deal.
6:30 p.m.: Daniel arrives to get my wristband. I originally attached it fairly loosely so I could slip it off and on, but Daniel has HUGE hands. He can’t get them through the band. So I devise a plan to cut the band with nail clippers, and tape it back together. Only the scotch tape won’t hold the band. Eff. This isn’t looking good. I have an idea, and send Daniel to the convenience store across the street to ask to borrow a stapler. He does even better: he comes back with a mini-stapler and staples. Score! We manage to attach the wristband securely and he’s off to Metallica.
7:30 p.m.: My Canadian band boys finally make it back out, and they stop by Nuno’s to hang with me for a while. I somehow end up with an entourage of about 15 people that I’ve never met before yesterday. We’re having a blast. Angie (Nuno’s amazing wife) comes by with the tip bucket, and I go to throw some cash in. She tries to stop me, saying that I’ve already tipped a lot tonight. I disagree, and say that a few tips are well worth it to keep such great bands coming back to entertain me. Angie then insists on buying me a shot, so we knock back some Patron, then chat for a bit. She introduces me to her daughter, Nina, and Nina’s fiance Travis. I can tell how proud Angie is of her family, because she keeps pointing to Nuno II as he’s dancing behind the bar, and her eyes light up when she talks about her kids or her husband. Love it. The whole family is pretty amazing… they remind me of me family in a weird way… but with cooler parents.
12:00 a.m.: Daniel returns from Metallica and he had a blast. I’m pretty freakin’ drunk. I doze off on the comfy cushioned bench in the back.
1:30 a.m.: Lame. I can’t make it. I duck out silently and walk back to my car. Drive home. Crash. So tired.
Peace, Love & Michelle 