The Cleanse: Day 1 April 14, 2009

Most of my people know I like to do strange and horrific things to my body (like drinking an entire bottle of tequila or 3/4 bottle of Jack in one night, or stay up for 3 days straight because I just can’t freaking sleep, then write silly insomniac blogs to pass the time). Then, I scramble to fix said things via yoga, meditating, working out, and chiropractic. I eat healthy, delicious foods about 80% of the time… the rest of the time I spend enjoying Mexican, cheeseburgers, Beelzebun’s chili dogs and mom’s home cooking.

So, my poor chiropractor, in an effort to repair all the damage I’ve done over the past 10 years, recommended… nay, strongly suggested… that I embark on a 21-day cleanse to purify my system and rid my body of toxins. The entire cleanse system consists of a pretty decent complete protein/green food powder that I mix into smoothies 2-3 times a day, plus an arsenal of supplements that total 23 pills/day. During the 21-day period, I’m supposed to cut out meat, legumes and nuts, processed foods, anything I’m “allergic” to (peanuts, soy and yeast), dried/canned/prepackaged foods, dairy, breads and pastas. So, basically, I get fruits, veggies, lentils, quinoa and rice. Which wouldn’t be so bad… except my particular plan also encourages me to minimize the fruit I consume. WTF. I can’t live without my 6-9 servings of fresh fruit each day. Eff.

So, today was Day 1 of my 21-day adventure into food hell. My grade for the day: FAIL.

The day started off fine. A breakfast smoothie with 2 scoops of wonder powder and various fruits, 7 of my 23 pills, and 24 oz of water. A little light yoga before my first morning meeting. Another smoothie – this one with the powder plus broccoli, carrots, radishes, and cilantro. I got about 1/4 of this one down before I decided it needed salt. Spices. Something. Took 7 more pills. Ugh. Hate pills. Not happy.

By the time I finished up with my morning meetings, it was time for my chiropractic appointment. Spent about an hour there, between the actual entrainment, the SRI session, and chatting (which always takes the most time), and was starving by the time I left there at 2:30. Stopped at Whole Foods to check out the Raw Bar, and devised a delightful little lunch combo of Roasted Pepper Quinoa (A++ for this pick); Mashed Sweet Potatoes with Orange (pretty good here, too); African Green Beans (yep, fail… no beans allowed); Sauteed Summer Squash (yay me!) and a fresh coconut, from which I drank the milk like it was the nectar of the gods. Drank about 24 oz of water, too. All in all, good lunch at Whole Foods, no major snafus, and felt great afterward. Spent the rest of the afternoon working, and feeling fine.

Getting ready for Krav Maga this evening, I realized I was about to face a pretty intense workout, and should probably have some carbs. I chose a banana, remembered I should be cutting back on fruit, decided I didn’t care, and ate it anyways. Had another 24 oz of water from my trusty Camelbak bottle, and downed 5 more pills. Gross. Still hate this.

Krav Maga kicked my ass. Aside from the fact that I probably only consumed about 60% of my recommended caloric intake prior to my class, I had very little protein/carbs in my system, and frankly, was craving a damn filet mignon the entire time I was working out. I don’t know about you guys, but in Michelle World, extreme anger or exertion = need for meat. And here I was, being taught to funnel every angry thought I’ve ever had into beating the hell out of my partner, then having her do the same to me. I deserved a friggin’ steak after that.

But I was good. Sort of. I got home, and was still so amped that I took a run/jog/walk to stretch out my leg muscles and wind down a bit before my shower. Ate a bowl of whole-grain cereal to refuel. Didn’t taste anything like a filet, BTW.

Showered, threw my damp hair back into a messy bun and walked over to Nuno’s to listen to Blue Blood play some good live music, and relax a bit. I was doing fine, just chillin’ with my “water + lemon” combo until an ice cube ricocheted off my left shoulder. I looked up to see Nuno at the bar, with 2 shots. One for him. One for me. I tried saying no. I really did. It went something like this:

Me: “No, I can’t.”

Nuno: “Yes, you can.”

Me: “No, really, I can’t.”

Nuno: “Yes, you can.”

Me: “Okay, fine.”

A few minutes went by, and I suddenly recalled that I told Paul I would introduce him to the Chocolate Cake shot. Requested a round of 5 from Nuno, and participated in the drinking of the most delectable Chocolate Cake shot to every pass my lips. I then saw a Beelzebun’s hot dog being delivered to Nuno behind the bar. Eff my life. I decided I must have a Beelzebun’s chili cheese dog with jalapenos. Five minutes later, I’m back at Nuno’s, enjoying the world’s best chili dog while thinking about how badly I just ruined my cleanse. I drank water the rest of the night, but that did little to assuage my guilt.

Positive-Spin Recap: Ate a mostly raw foods, fruit and veggie diet until 9 p.m. Worked out hardcore at Krav class + running for 2 hours straight tonight. Refrained from taking painkillers for the pounding headache I developed. Drank *mostly* water at Nuno’s. I did really well until I set foot inside my favorite bar. So, you may blame me for having a total lack of willpower, but I blame Nuno and his shenanigans for tonight’s indiscretions.

Going to bed. Going to try this again tomorrow.

SXSW 2009: Part 2 March 20, 2009

7:30 p.m.: No line for wristband holders @ Stubb’s. I grab my first Lone Star of the night and head over to the stage, where I land front and center in a sparse crowd. Not for long. By the time 3Oh!3 comes on, I am swimming in a sea of teenagers and very low 20-somethings, rocking out to what could possibly be the most energetic, infectious show I’ve seen in a LONG time. I literally could not stop dancing for 45 minutes straight, and rocked out to every single song. Fantastic show. On my way to the ladies’ room, I meet a security guard who informs me that my green Artist wristband is fundamentally no different than a badge, at least when it comes to concerts, but that didn’t stop me from finding my way into the Green Room to meet 3Oh!3. Apparently, when people think you’re in a band, you get a lot more perks. 😉

9:00 p.m.: On my way out of the Green Room, I meet a Canadian band called Lloydminster, and they become my BFF’s for the night. These guys were so effing hilarious that I could hardly stand it. We drink, dance, sing along to Meat Puppets, and drink some more. I become an honorary band member. I now play the finger cymbals.

10:00 p.m.: Gomez plays Stubb’s. Fantastic show. Again, I duck into the Green Room, but the band members are kind of occupied and I need food. I grab a sausage wrap (yum!), my 10th beer of the night, and make my way back to my new band.

11:00 p.m.: There is an absolutely hypnotic violinist on stage. I discover this band is called Andrew Bird. I love them. The boys and I have a few more beers, then go up to the VIP lounge to watch Ben Harper from an elevated perspective. On the way, my new security guard friend informs me that Metallica will be playing at Stubb’s tomorrow night, but it hasn’t yet been announced.

12:15 a.m.: Ben Harper is way late coming on, so I go to the Green Room yet again, and manage to catch him in a moment where he has time to chat. He’s cut his hair since the last time I saw him. It looks great. He kisses my hand. I melt. I see his wife. I go away. Back to the VIP lounge. OMG. Ben Harper. LOVE. While dancing lustfully to that sexy guitar and crooning voice, I meet Joyce, an agent from Fearless Records in Orange County, and she is just effing fabulous. We hug a lot. I get her card and promise to call her with my whereabouts tomorrow.

1:00 a.m.: Leave Stubb’s slightly early to try to catch Kid Cudi @ Aces Lounge. With the boys in tow (and very drunk), I make my way back to 6th Street. Drunken Todd is hard to contain, and we don’t make it to 6th Street until 1:30. Chris and I make an executive decision to go to Nuno’s instead, so I can make good on my promise to Tank. Glad we did. Nuno’s is packed, with great blues as always, and the whole family seems to be around tonight. Angie, sweet and precious as ever, is collecting tips for the band. Chris and I dance for a while, then Nuno Sr. stops to talk to us. I love his philosophy on finding talent: “Everyone is local. Fuck everyone else. We’re here for the locals.” Time for more drinks, and Nuno II leaves the bar to dance. I suddenly realize how effing hot Nuno II is. I immediately develop a temporary SXSW crush on the guy I’ve seen almost every weekend since New Year’s Eve Eve. More dancing, more drinks, and we leave well past 2:00.

2:30 a.m.: I can’t believe this happened. The boys and I have walked all the way to I-35, completely the opposite direction of my car. We walk halfway back and my feet really start to hurt. Chris offers to carry me. I seriously consider. We find a pedicab that fits 3 of us, and Chris sits with me, while the other 3 remaining band members take turns running beside the pedicab and sitting with me and Chris. Todd finds it amusing to yell at our pedicab driver and smack him on the ass as he drives. FML.

3:30 a.m.: Breakfast @ Kerbey Lane. So hungry. We finish up, and I drop the guys off to sleep it off at their hotel with a promise to call them tomorrow.

4:00 a.m.: Home in Round Rock. SO EFFING TIRED. Can’t wait to go back tomorrow.

SWSX 2009: Part 1

Headed to downtown Austin yesterday for my first official all-day venture into the SXSW 2009 Music Festival. Had to stop off for a few work errands off of Barton Springs Road, and by the time I finished up around 1:00 p.m., the vehicular chaos was already in full swing. Spent an entire hour driving up and down the nearby streets, checking out my usual parking spots near 8th & Red River, 4th & Congress, etc. Finally realized there was no way I was getting a parking space down there. So I then began examining all of the lesser-known (and more distant) lots for parking. About another 30 minutes of that before I found a diamond in the rough: a half-empty LEZ lot off of 5th & Nueces across from Little Woodrow’s (near Key Bar). Parking was $10 until 7:00 p.m., or $20 until 2:00 a.m. Beggars can’t be choosers. I tipped the man $10 for saving my life, and won his heart in the meantime. He offered to place a cone in my parking spot if I had any need to leave and return throughout the day, and to save me a spot all weekend. Score one for overtipping.

2:30 p.m.: Peckerhead’s on 6th for free Red Stripe. At this point, I’m operating sans wristband, so day parties with free stuff are the way to go. Met up with Rob and some cool chicks he knows upstairs, and enjoyed the vocal stylings of Reverend Payton’s Big Damn Band and Port O’Brien. Good stuff. And the free beer rumor was true. Hooray Beer! I Tweet and Facebook my (Rob’s) find, but am sad to see I have a low battery on my iPhone.

3:30 p.m.: Stop in at Nuno’s to say hello to Tank and check the band list for the night. (Who am I kidding? It’s always great music.) Tank gives me a big hug and tells me I look even better in the daytime. Rob decides I come here way too often. Promise Tank I will return between shows later in the evening. My dying iPhone makes me sad. I want to Tweet my whereabouts and cool discoveries, but AT&T’s poor planning for SXSW combined with my low battery = Michelle sucking at social networking.

3:45 p.m.: Rob and I duck out of Nuno’s and head back over to Mohawk for the Rhapsody VIP party, featuring free Trudy’s tacos, and open bar, and some really cool bands (namely, Vivian Girls and Trail of the Dead). I missed out on Vivian Girls by showing up later in the day, but Trail of the Dead was awesome. Tacos were delicious, and the liquor did in fact flow freely. Met John, a friend of Rob’s who works for a federal judge in Atlanta (small world!), and Rob’s official SXSW girlfriend, a married woman with lots of energy who informed Rob that it’s alright if they make out, but they can’t go to third base. Duly noted, married chick. Duly noted. Crystal, a friend of married chick, introduced herself to me by burning my arm with her lit cigarette, then apologizing profusely. We became great friends. Very cool girl. Quite a bit of sun on the upstairs deck, so Rob supplied us all with margarita-scented SPF 30 from his backpack full o’goodies, and saved us all from an untimely skin-cancer-induced death. Thanks, Rob. And another very special thanks to Rob for sliding not one, but three additional people, into the Rhapsody party on his VIP invite. We bow down to your popularity and generosity.

4:45 p.m.: Rob, John and I leave Mohawk to make our way to HiLo for the Soy Bombs show. Stop on the way to take a photo of me (in a very short skirt) on the Jackalope. Rob entertains the masses by waving his arms wildly above his head and screaming “Soy Bombs @ HiLo! Freeeee!” as he runs down 6th Street. I briefly consider slapping some random woman on the back of the head after she calls my friend a douchbag. I decide it’s SXSW, and I refuse to perpetuate the hatred. Soy Bombs, as always, are a blast. Bought a cool new Soy Bombs tee for the bargain price of $6. I run into Cheryl and Holly there, and Cheryl leaves with me to go pick up my wristband and grab some food. My iPhone is really dying now, and I don’t have enough battery to waste my time waiting for Twitter to load.

6:45 p.m.: Dinner @ Hut’s Hamburgers hit the spot. My iPhone is totally and completely dead… like, won’t even show me a red battery indicator. Thankfully, we’re near my car, so I stop to charge the phone for a bit, and we part ways. After allowing a miniscule charge to my phone, I call my buddy Connor and we decided to meet up at Mother Egan’s so he can provide me with the hallowed “Artist Wristband.” Wristband on my arm, I set out for Stubb’s.

7:15 p.m.: iPhone still dying. I stop in at the Emo’s Annex to use the phone charging station. It’s gone for the day. FML. I use one last text to tell Rob I’m going to Stubb’s.