Phoenix, Las Vegas

As I was energetically car-dancing on my way to work this morning, I decided I wanted to brag. Not even a humble brag — I wanted to all-out brag about my good fortune, my good taste, and the greatness of the art I was consuming. You see, I discovered Phoenix way back in 2006 — and here, I cannot take all of the credit. I discovered them by creating a music station on Pandora (I couldn’t even tell you which it was. I just logged back into my Pandora account for the first time in over a decade and none of the stations scream “this was the Phoenix one.” Maybe Radiohead?) The first song I ever heard by the French pop gods was off of 2006’s It’s Never Been Like That, and it was called “Sometimes in the Fall.” In truth, I probably heard “If I Ever Feel Better” on the Lost in Translation soundtrack before I realized what I was listening to, but I digress.

I don’t know why “Sometimes in the Fall” hit me the way it did. It’s not the best Phoenix song. Perhaps it was the repetition of the word “fall” and “long” in the lyrics, the way Thomas stutter-steps on the latter that makes it extra fun to sing along to. Perhaps it was the literal repetition of the song on Pandora. It would come up once every hour and a half or so, it seemed, but it was one I NEVER skipped when it was in the rotation. There was just something about it that grabbed me, and so I bought the record from whence it came, which then led to my attendance at Phoenix’s performance at Austin City Limits 2006.

They were on a side stage in the heat of the day, with the sun beating down on us all. I’m embarrassed to say I didn’t even realize the guys were French when I saw them live. What I do remember is the swagger Thomas Mars seemed to have. Maybe because I was younger, maybe because they were not nearly as popular as they are today (post-Wolfgang) so they had less to lose — but I remember a sort of winking flirtation between the band and the audience that immediately captivated me. I danced around in the hot sun, sweating — I was pretty recently single and still heart-aching for my ex, but also feeling free and excited for the Muse headlining set that Sunday — and thoroughly enjoyed my time. And that was that. I didn’t follow the band too closely until all of a sudden, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was everywhere and led to friendships, band-stalking and all sorts of other excitement.

Which brings us to Las Vegas. After their latest release, Ti Amo, there were no Texas dates to be seen on Phoenix’s tour line-up, so my sweet (and poker-loving) husband suggested we make a vacation of it and head over to the city of lights.

Since the show was scheduled to be held in a place called the “Brooklyn Bowl,” I had to keep double-checking the location to ensure we weren’t headed to the wrong town. As it turns out, Brooklyn is so hip that they had to expand out to Vegas (or something). The venue is an actual bowling alley that’s up some stairs and kinda sideways, so that made entering the place and scouting out a spot on the GA floor trickier. Luckily Zack and I are concert veterans and found a way to stake our space only three rows back from the front gate, Christian Mazzalai-side. It felt a little wrong because my girl Melissa and I always went for Bronco/Thomas side when we saw the band, but it worked out in the end as I got a few winks and nods from Christian.

Phoenix fans in Vegas are absolutely amazing human beings. I was concerned initially that I’d be facing already drunk, entitled a-holes, but instead I was surrounded by fans and superfans who banded together to push out anyone trying to squeeze to the front at the last minute (or almost at the end of the set, as two particularly annoying bishes attempted). We’d lock arms, throw shade, and dance wildly to send these wannabes back to the back where they belonged.

Most importantly, the band sounded as electric as ever. It’s so funny to me that from that set in 2006 to a much smaller (but very respectable) crowd to sold-out shows now, Thomas and his crew have gone from confident and cheeky to child-like and awestruck when they perform. It’s so fun to see their faces, filled with wonder *to this day* about how they are able to pull so many people into a room and inspire them with song.

The new songs from Ti Amo are just as fun live as you might expect, if you’ve listened to the album. The fans around me and I agreed that Phoenix albums are usually growers — rather than immediately hooking you, they stick with you long after the first listen until they charm you, almost hypnotically, and soak into your bloodstream. You have the ready-for-take-off rock of the title track, the fist-pump-worthy rhythm of “Role Model,” the undeniable hook in “J-Boy” (which, if you’re like me and definitely didn’t know, stands for that very hook — “Just Because Of You”). And then there’s “Fior di Latte.”

How does one go about writing a love letter to a song? How can I begin to explain what “Fior di Latte” makes me feel? First of all, it is the sexiest Phoenix song OF ALL TIME don’t @ me. But seriously, there’s no sexier song in all of their catalogue. It’s Thomas, singing lovingly but with severity about needing his lady to get her some pleasure. “Fior di Latte” translates to flower of milk — yes you have just been scandalized and I DON’T CARE I LOVE IT. Then you listen to the rest of the words and it’s flirtatious and intimate, and then you get that grind-worthy rhythm going and — don’t just take my word for it.

So when this perfect tune wasn’t included in the first 14 on the Vegas setlist, I tried to be ok with it. I did an internal shrug and thought, maybe they’ll hit Texas later and work it into their show by then. But of course — of COURSE — Phoenix understands what they have on their hands. They get that this is a panty-dropping triumph, so they worked it into their encore with a stripped down “Countdown,” freakin’ “1901” and an encore of “Ti Amo.” Bless you, Phoenix, for seeing into my heart and giving me what I need every. single. time.

When Thomas took to the crowd with his signature neon-orange mic cord during “Ti Amor Di Piu,” he came straight into the crowd where my newfound posse and I were huddled. All I could do was say, “Thank you, thank you, merci, merci, thank you” again and again as he passed me, and pat his back, and let my eyes well up.

I share all of this because I want for everyone to have something they hold as dear to them, something that — without fail — puts a smile on their face, the way Phoenix does for me. Find something that makes you want to dance in your car, and blast it.

#16: Watch my “30 before 30” watch list of Criterion Collection films

This project took me a long, long time to complete, but I have to say it was well worth it. I'm the type of person who has her go-to favorite films, and I always have been. When I was little, my parents can attest, I forced them to watch Peter Pan, The Aristocats, and Fantasia until every line was memorized and could be recited back a cappella. In adulthood, I'm not *quite* that consistent, but I've certainly turned to You've Got Mail on many a sick day (or many a it's-chilly-outside-let's-stay-in day, or a it's-a-choice-as-an-in-flight-movie day...), and I saw Creed three times in theaters and Rogue One twice. 

As someone who attended film school, though, I knew the importance of widening my horizons — I'd seen it happen, where I'd watch a film or get some context for a movement and suddenly a whole new world of art and influence revealed itself to me. So, I basically took a blindfold and a dart (not literally, but in essence) and went through a long list of Criterion Collection films, and picked out as diverse a group as I could. My own "30 Before 30" list, with a mix of documentaries I'd heard of and Douglas Sirk films I hadn't. I tried to pick films from different eras, in different languages and from different countries. Some films were jaw-droppingly bananas, some were depressing, and some were downright nails-on-a-chalkboard bad. But there were a few that absolutely thrilled me, that I count among my all-time favorites now, and that made the whole project worthwhile. Instead of giving blog space to those films I never intend to see again, I'm going to call out my favorites so you can get thee to iTunes (or, in some cases, a movie rental store) and dig into these enriching gems.

Paul Robeson: Portraits of the Artist

This was the last "film" I saw, and one of the most educational and enriching I invested my time in. I put film in quotations because, as it turned out (and as I did not know when picking this for my list), this was a box set with 4 discs, including a number of histories of Robeson, plus 7 of his movies (two silent films, four "talkies" and a documentary he narrated and contributed to financially). I have never been so bowled over by a historical figure, nor made so furious that America white-washes its history to such a degree as to turn Robeson into the "Old Man River" guy. In reality, Robeson was an All-American football hero in college, an angelic bass singer, and a dedicated actor who turned into an activist later in his life. Some of the films in this collection are difficult to watch, because we come face to face with the reality of the roles black actors could get in the 20s. But by the time we reach Jericho, which Paul Robeson Jr. says was his dad's favorite of his own films, we see an artists coming into power over his own art. The Proud Valley is a beautiful, heart-rending look at coal mines in Wales, and Native Land is such a pointed and moving documentary-slash-movie that I'm amazed it's not required viewing in every history class in America (but then, not surprised, as the movie itself points to why it was so downplayed). With accompanying radio interviews with Robeson, and short recollections from his friends, family and influenced actors, if you spend the time with this amazing collection you'll feel you know Robeson, and be so proud that he was an American.

That Hamilton Woman!

It's Vivien Leigh and Laurence Olivier, who apparently were together IRL!! But actually, that is the thing I care least about.

From my Letterboxd review:

""Damn." This was the word that escaped my mouth in the closing lines of "That Hamilton Woman." It's such a devastatingly sad-ending film, and I have so many questions - what about their daughter? What happened to her mom? IS THAT REALLY IT?!? I find it a little difficult to believe that Emma would just throw in the towel, having been such a strong, I-bounce-back kind of woman throughout her life. She is most charming when she's reveling in her own abilities - it's refreshing to see a woman be excited about what she can accomplish. The romance is OK, but I find it a much more interesting character study above all else."

The Times of Harvey Milk

I'd seen the Hollywood-ized Milk, but I wanted a story from those in the trenches, and just as I suspected I found it to be all the more moving. The Times of Harvey Milk weaves Milk's humor and good nature with political realities of his (and our) time. Truly, with heinous acts of aggression like Texas' shameful "bathroom bill," this is a really energizing story that demonstrates both the power of the people when we raise our voices together, as well as the long way we have to go to earn justice for Harvey and all those like him who have died, and continue to die, for freedom and equality.

Vagabond

This movie was dark and funny, sometimes all at once. I couldn't tell if it advocated for a particular style of life, or if it was just showing how fragile the rest of us can feel when someone isn't following the rules in the way we understand them to be. We know of the girl's fate right from the start, and yet you wish and hope all the way through that she will find a new way. I found myself admiring the girl, scared for her, sad for her, happy for her — wanting and dreading her life, wondering at the cost of freedom (or if what we consider "freedom" to be, really is?)

The Beaches of Agnes

From my Letterboxd review:

"This "documentary"/autobiography was fascinating. I love how Agnes tries to document her memories as she envisions them in her mind - fragmented, existing in the present and past at the same time. There was so much in here to love, but particular images that have burned into my brain are the bird mobile in the rain, Demy appearing in the painting near the end of the film, and Agnes trying to be with and understand her family - her lineage - but ending up present but more a ghost. Lovely, kooky, definitely worth seeing."

Written on the Wind

A love triangle with a dangerous, devil-may-care blonde little rich girl cannon-balling right into the center - and all that gorgeous Sirk imagery.

From my Letterboxd review:

"Sirk films are known for their visual beauty and imagery (that's why we studied them in film school!) I'd never seen this one, but it was absolutely delicious - perfectly-placed shadows here, reflections in the mirrors there - and the story is so frustratingly heartbreaking but satisfying in the end. "

Cleo from 5 to 7

A posh French pop singer thinks she's going to die, and we follow her throughout her day as she awaits the verdict and lives her life. It sounds drab, but Agnes Verda once again manages to make a female protagonist complicated, endearing, funny and tragic all at once. 

An Angel at My Table

From my Letterboxd review:

"What a fabulous movie! As a story about a life should, it contained joy, mundaneness, devastation, new experiences and all sorts in between. Janet Frame is lovable, pitiable, brilliant and - perhaps above all - a survivor."

Babette's Feast

From my Letterboxd review:

"This movie was absolutely enchanting. It's such an interesting take on piety, artistry, life and its meaning. The characters are rich and lovely, and MY GOD, the feast. Even as a vegetarian grossed out by the dead quails, I could appreciate the beauty of it all. What a spectacular film!"

Girlhood

This was my first film that I watched as part of my "30 Before 30," and it set the bar extremely high. It's been almost a year since I watched this film, but there are still so many standout moments frozen in my mind. As many of the comments will tell you, watch for the Rihanna dance sequence ALONE. It made me want to go rent a hotel room and have a sleepover with my best girl friends, too.

From my Letterboxd review:

"I was so smitten with this film. It's visually dazzling, far more daring than my own coming-of-age, heartbreaking but still hopeful. Marieme (alias Vic) is such a complex character, and you find yourself rooting for her no matter the situation. The moments of pure joy captured with her friends - dancing, joking, cuddling - are ones that encapsulate female friendships. Indeed, the female friendships are the most central, important, strong and pure of the film - gorgeous and captivating."

Early Summer

The BEAUTY of this film cannot be overstated. It was beautiful not simply visually (although this is certainly one aspect of it), but emotionally. Early Summer possessed a richness and nuance I don't think I found in any other film.

From my Letterboxd review:

"What an absolutely gorgeous, tender film. I love the way the family members relate to one another, the way the female friendships are both loving and teasing, how everyone from the sweet (grand)parents down to the littlest kids have personality and a story. The music is dreamy, the people are nuanced - I adored this film."

Hoop Dreams

This was the second film I watched as part of this project, and the first documentary on my list, and I can't believe I'd gone so long without seeing it.

From my Letterboxd review:

"This was a fascinating, sometimes heartbreaking, film that really documents how people of color are still viewed as commodities ("meat market") when it comes to sports. You're only as valuable as your talent, and to see how this effects these young men's self-esteem, opportunities and lives is important and difficult. You really love and root for Arthur and William, and you really leave with a terrible taste in your mouth for the basketball system. A must-see."

For All Mankind

I LOVE outer space. One of my favorite childhood field trips was to the planetarium to see a map of stars laid out in front of me, and I still love traveling out to the desert or other less-populated areas of the US to check out the view. I knew I was too afraid to ever even try to be an astronaut, but I'm still fascinated by how little we know (and yet how much we know) about Earth's surroundings. If you're even in the same ballpark as me, this film is about to light a fire under you.

From my Letterboxd review:

"Oh my god. Talk about a movie that instills wonder - the footage from our various trips into space and to the moon were at turns breathtaking, unbelievable and heartwarming - and it was so fun to see these grown men move with childlike wonder through their surroundings, laughing and joking and being just as overwhelmed as any of us. Fantastic."

Le Havre

From my Letterboxd review:

"What a gorgeous, life-affirming film! Sweet, funny, strange - all the best things life is made up of."

Monsoon Wedding

From my Letterboxd review:

"You know the movie was great when you literally applaud at the end - even after watching it by yourself in your living room. There are so many interesting stories intertwining in "Monsoon Wedding," but of course the central story is a marriage. I think one of my favorite characters in the film is the father of the bride - he is a devoted family man who loves his children fiercely and ultimately makes a brave decision to protect those he loves. The movie is full of joy and sorrow, all the stuff of life. Excellent!!"

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#1: Take a trip to Disney World for my 30th birthday

The last time I went to Disney World, I turned 16 years old. I was traveling with my high school orchestra - and my chaperone dad - during spring break, which always overlaps with my March 16 birthday. So, I serendipitously got to celebrate a hallmark birthday amongst characters from my childhood, and the magic that only Disney seems to bring to me. As I reflected on what a princess I was made to feel like for my birthday, I decided Disney would be the best place to ring in a new decade. I knew Zack and I would be able to plan things out ahead of time so once we arrived in Florida, we'd be able to kick our feet up and enjoy the ride. Little did I know how true-to-life that vision would be.

#8: Scrapbook my wedding goodies

Arguably my most achievable goal on my 30 Before 30 list, scrapbooking the items that Zack and I collected during our wedding and honeymoon(s) was no less important to me than any goal. I've always been a scrapbooker, although never to the expert-level of my Grandma Rosemary or Aunt Jo — they attend scrapbooking conventions and buy incredible accessories (paper tattoos?!?) and are generally just fabulously crafty ladies. Still, although my aesthetic is a little more...shall we say...hand-made, I've always loved crafting. When I was young, I set out to try and "invent" stuff with scraps of electronics my dad would find on his runs. I also spent a few long afternoons crafting a doll house out of cardboard, fabric and paint for my mom once, and sewed stuffed animals for my brother at one point (by hand — I still don't know how to use a machine, really). Listening to music and zoning out in a creative way has always been zen for me, so while I had been putting off this goal for a bit, once I dumped everything out on a table I really got into it.

This was the epic starting point — I had to extend the leaves on our kitchen table because this project was SERIOUS, y'all. What you see above is a huge collection of cards from friends and family, some accessories from the wedding, some calendars from 2014 (the engagement year) and 2015 (the wedding year), photos, and decorative items I picked up at Michael's to add some flair to the pages. Once I laid everything out, I decided that the light blue book I purchased would tell the story of Zack and my relationship in the beginning, and how we moved on to our engagement. I also decided to put the honeymoon items in that book, because the colors seemed more appropriate. Plus, this allowed the fancy silver-and-white book to be wedding items only.

A close-up of some of the cards, the tape (I used everything in both of those two rolls, and then some) and one of the fancy accoutrements from Michael's — the LOVE sparkly sticker.

Here we have a close-up of the calendars, the photos of Zack an me, the receipt for our marriage certificate and our boarding passes for Belize.

As I was putting some of the photos in the first book, I decided to give them "frames" by putting them on white card stock that I'd decorate with fancy sharpies.

The plan for this card stock was to make a plaid design out of Zack and my signature colors, pink and blue, but the stupid blue pen broke partway through the process.

That's the last time I shop in the bargain bin. STUPID PEN. (I tried to get focus on the tip which was all tilted here.)

Never give up!! I just did an all-pink plaid instead.

I added a bunch of labels to this page to give it some dimension, and just drew a frame around one of the pictures. I feel like "have fun with it" is the best advice for scrapbooking.

I had a lot of leftover letter stickers in all different fonts and styles, so I used those a bunch to spruce up the pages.

This gorgeous handmade "card" was crafted by my Aunt Faith and it was one of the larger items I simply couldn't cut up. It currently lives tucked inside of the more wedding-centric scrapbook, but I may even get it framed.

I got lazy taking photos of my work after a while (bad blogger, bad!) so this is the last one I've got. These were our Save the Date cards that I decided to collage together so you could see them from every angle. This kicked off the wedding-centric book, which featured all of the gorgeous cards we received. What I like to do when scrapbooking cards is tape the backs of them to the scrapbook page, but then leave the rest untaped so that if you want to read the inside of the cards, you can just pull the page out and have access to all of the messages. For anything with writing on the back, I just put it near the bottom of the page loose so it can still be pulled out later.

One thing I didn't photograph but I LOVED was a set of fancy tropical drink stickers that I used for my Belize honeymoon pages - they're multi-colored and glittery and FABULOUS.

I hope that if you've been putting off an arts and crafts project out of the fear of perfection (especially in this internet-friendly, document-everything age of super-crafters and Pinterest) this inspires you to just go for it! At the end of the day, my children and grandchildren won't care that this stuff wasn't done *perfectly* — they'll just be (hopefully) excited to share in the memories of their family.

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#11: Go offline for a whole month

As "offline" as it gets. Me, my mom, and my brother at Big Bend National Park, circa 1999-ish?

I work in the tech industry, at a job that requires me to be plugged in and logged in every workday. So, when I plotted out this particular goal, my idea was never that I was going to move out into the mountains for a month and work on my novel in a cabin warmed by firewood (although if you'd like to fund such an endeavor, please feel free to leave a comment or wire money). From the start, my plan was to ban myself from the internet after I left work each weekday, and stay off of it on the weekends. I picked the month of June to try and tackle this feat, because now that I'm back to my team management gig, it's often tough to unplug at home.

At the start of this goal, the fear of missing out felt very strong. I swore off of Instagram altogether, and barely peeked at Facebook on breaks at work. I wondered at the life achievements I was missing my friends make, the cute baby and/or puppy photos that would go forever unseen. But after about a week of cutting myself off from constant social check-ins...I found I not only didn't miss it, but I was relieved by breaking free. There was nothing I felt like I had to compulsively keep up on, so I was allowed to just live my life out in the world.

My only book credit thus far lives in this here Rob Sheffield outfit.

Other than feeling less anxious about keeping up with everyone at all times, one of the greatest things I gained from this experiment was reading a whole lot more. I finished two books written by my latest authorial-obsession, Lauren Groff, and sometimes, as Zack was making dinner after I got home from work...I just sat. Yep, just sat on the couch quietly, doing nothing but breathing. This is very difficult for me to do, so by being able to simply sit, I found that I felt much more in control of myself. It was a comforting and refreshing feeling.

This has been a big part of my life over the last month.

In my free time after work (of which there seemed to be much more all of a sudden), I indulged in my new favorite things: reading Groff, listening to African Jazz vinyl, playing cards with my husband, and going to my boxing class. Occasionally, a friend or family member would ask if I'd seen the link they posted on my Facebook wall, and I'd have to shrug and say, "No, since it's Saturday I won't be checking again until Monday on a work break." And I discovered that this didn't kill me, and nobody disowned me for my disconnection.

I tried to keep my "rules" surrounding this goal loose so I wouldn't beat myself up for "failing." That's why I still allowed some social connection while I was at work, and why I didn't get upset with myself when, during the last week of the month, I had to go online in order to finish up some work (and went on some of my favorite blogs in the process). This has also instilled in me the freedom to institute this practice periodically from now on - one permanent change I made was to turn off notifications for most of my apps, so that my iPhone wasn't constantly forcing my next steps. I'll peek on Instagram at times, but it's less compulsory now. I feel somewhat freed from my electronics and accounts.

I've lost my footing a little in my newfound freedom, because in moving back to my old job I've had difficulty with balance. I'm hopeful, though, that I can return to this practice, or at least continue to be selective in how I spend my time (e.g. using my Calm app to practice meditation instead of Insta-stalking people I don't know). By disconnecting from the virtual reality of Teh Webz, I've been able to feel a lot more awake IRL, and it feels good.

#15: Be debt free

Of all of the goals I set to meet before I turn 30, becoming debt free was arguably the most important. I've saddled tens of thousands of dollars in debt for the past decade (give or take a few years) of my life. This was primarily due to my student loans I had to take out to attend the University of Texas at Austin. Despite earning thousands of dollars in scholarships from my 4.0 high school GPA and extracurricular activities, I still ended up having to take on over $20,000 in loans for tuition, books and board, and my dad took on more than double that. By the time I started this blog, I'd just paid off that debt — in late January of this year, I was able to close out what I owed, and it was like an elephant that had been sitting on my chest finally decided to stand up and move on.

So, I expected that when I paid off the credit card debt I'd accrued (close to $10,000, almost 100% because of my wedding last year), it'd feel like a monster truck driving off of me or something. The freedom! The ability to save money!! I was looking forward to the relief — banking on it, really.

Now, here we are:  I paid my final payment towards my credit card about two weeks ago, a combination of selling some stock and pinching pennies to make it happen even faster than I expected to. I was hoping to be debt-free by 30, but when my husband suddenly showed a more proactive interest in saving for a house, I made it work faster. I found a way to be at 0, and in two more weeks, I'll get to put about $1,000 into savings for the first time in my life.

And yet — I have to be honest. My life doesn't feel drastically changed. I still find myself nervous about money, worried that I'll have to use my credit card for something again soon, bummed because I was hoping to put more in savings before having to buy a car (and this just simply isn't possible, my car has informed me, via its refusal to allow my air conditioner to work for more than 20 minutes at a time in the Texas summer whose heat index makes it feel like 104 every day). It still feels like I'm on the edge of falling into a debt pit again soon.

How it feels in my car when I'm stuck on I-35.

I can't fully figure out why this is. I don't know if I'll just need to save up a few thousand dollars before I can feel like I can totally breathe, or if it's the fact that, despite trying to scrimp and save for a house now, I still allowed myself to make a few "I've had a rough week" purchases this past week from my achilles-heel shops (ModCloth, L'Occitane and VINCA). I'm definitely excited about my upcoming car purchase, even though that'll technically put me back into debt (but since this is a monthly payment, I'm not counting it in my student loan/credit card threshold of debt that this goal was about).

My new favorite wasting-time-in-an-app app.

I know my personality in general is typically pretty impatient, and so I'm thinking that the reason I don't feel completely lighter-than-air jubilant is because I want to suddenly have savings available to buy a house RIGHT NOW, and that's just not the reality. I still love my apartment on 6th street, so I don't know why I'm in such a rush — I'm hoping I can take a deep breath and continue to take each day at a time. And, I'm hoping I can be a little easier on myself since I did just achieve a HUGE accomplishment, and will be saving money starting with my very next paycheck! I'm just hopeful I can find a good balance in my life between saving for important things and being responsible, and occasionally treating myself because all we have is now. It's that humanoid life tug-of-war we all have to deal with, and sometimes a pair of giant donut earrings is OK, if it's balanced with a nice chunk of savings.

#3: Take a weekend trip by myself

The last memorable trip that I took by myself was right after I got laid off from my first job. I was unceremoniously told that I could keep writing for the magazine “if I wanted” but that I could no longer rely on a monthly salary because it was too expensive for our publisher. This isn’t that story, so I’ll just say that I ended up driving out to Bastrop State Park and spent hours in the woods there, sitting on benches, writing in my diary and generally communing with nature (devastatingly, a few months later that same park was engulfed in flames. I felt really lucky I got to see it prior to the fires there.)

I am a firm believer in “me time.” It’s crucial for my own well-being that I get some time to myself to do whatever — read, write, watch Netflix, explore the world. Maybe it was studying in Germany in college, traveling around the country by myself, that showed me how important those kinds of trips could be, and how much growth I could enjoy from them. Maybe it was my summer in New York City, riding the subway on my own while blasting the Kings of Leon from my iPod (it was a simpler time). Whatever the reason, I’ve always loved taking a little adventure by myself, and so I took the opportunity to stalk Beyonce around Texas to also get some solo travel time and be my own boss.

The first stop on my Beyonce tour was in H-Town (coming, coming down). I took the 3 hour drive into my second favorite Texas city on Friday night, straight from my place of employment. I’d packed up all my necessities the night before, and given my husband and my dog tight hugs that morning. The drive was far prettier than my normal I-35 trek to Dallas, which is flat and fairly uneventful — there were cows, horses and goats galore, beautiful tree-lined throughways and some fun corner stores where I stopped for snacks and the bathroom. When I finally pulled up to my hotel, I could see the NRG Stadium where my Queen would perform the next night. It was literally right across the street, caddy-corner to the room I ended up in.

View from my hotel room

I was staying in the Crowne Plaza Hotel, and I pulled around the circle drive and gathered up all of my suitcases to take to the check-in desk. Sadly, I was re-directed to the building furthest from where I stood, so I dragged my bags back out to my car and drove over to the “Rio Grande” building. I don’t know if you’ve ever walked into a ghost town before, but that’s exactly how it felt as I entered the empty lobby of the building. Oldies played eerily from the lobby speakers, but there wasn’t a soul in sight. I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. Given this, I should have known better than to get on the elevator, but I had so many bags and the second floor just seemed too far away to drag everything up to my room. I climbed onto the creaky elevator, and as the doors closed behind me, I noticed that there wasn’t any certificate of authentication/safety posted in the claustrophobic space. Thus, my 60 second ride up to the second floor was filled with terror, as I prayed to the universe that the doors would open and I wouldn’t drop to my death (is that even possible when you’re one floor up?) That was my last ride on THAT elevator.

My room was quite nice, with a HUGE king bed, a lovely TV and a view out the window pointed directly at the NRG. I hung up my dresses, laid out my PJs, and hopped back in my car to grab a sandwich and ice cream for dinner. This is what you do when you’re staying in a hotel by yourself, you know. When I brought my dinner back to my room, I turned on HGTV and did not change the channel once during the rest of my stay in my hotel room. Even when shows I HATED, like Flip or Flop, were on, I left my Home and Garden friends playing in the background as comforting voices to accompany me on my stay.

My friends

When I woke up on Saturday, I ordered room service breakfast so I could speed up my getting-ready process. And what, you might ask, does a princess like me order from my fine room service providers? Why, frosted mini wheats, milk and orange juice, of course. (In all honesty, it was a pretty disappointing breakfast — they put about 5 wheat squares in my bowl, the milk tasted questionably room temp and the OJ was just fine.) This allowed me to head out for my first adventure of the weekend, a stop at the Houston Museum of Natural Science. Zack and I had popped into this museum before and were quickly smitten with it, so I was excited to return and take it at my own pace. Sadly, what I discovered was that this museum (unlike some of the other fantastic ones in the city) really doesn’t change up its displays much, so I pretty much walked through the same stuff I’d seen the last time all over again. To make matters worse, this time I discovered that the many impressive dinosaur skeletons towering above me were almost all replicas, rather than the real deal. This stole some of the magic from me at first, but then I made it my mission to look close at the bones that were real and really try to soak in the pre-history.

I think this one was real, but I honestly don't recall now.

"Evolution is predictable. Usually herbivores evolve from carnivores..." THAT'S RIGHT FOLKS, I'm more evolved.

Another notable stop was a strange animatronic world of “Texas wildlife,” replete with a woodpecker that actually banged its beak against a tree and a skunk that moved threateningly when you passed it by. I liked the fact that you could experience this exhibit in a daytime AND nighttime setting, with different sounds accompanying each.

A panorama of the dinosaurs. I forgot to take many pictures elsewhere, obviously.

Around the corner from this spectacle was the Cabinets of Curiosity. In theory, this exhibit is great. It encourages interaction with the museum — you get to open up a vast number of drawers and see all kinds of different things, like arrowheads and jewelry and fossils and shells. Sometimes the drawers’ smells were overpowering and I closed them quickly, but in general I liked the mood of the place. That is, until I approached a series of drawers in the back corner of the exhibit. I started at the bottom, as Drake taught me to do, and to my horror, discovered a bird carcass. Just a dead bird, hanging out in the drawer. Yeesh, I thought, that’s kind of a miss. Then I opened the next drawer — bird carcass number two. NO FREAKING WAY, I thought as I shut the drawer. There’s no way these could ALL be dead birds…right?! I opened up each drawer in the series of 4, and EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. had a dead bird in there, sometimes two. I get that taxidermy is a thing, but c’mon guys!!!!! Such a cruel trick to play on a sad vegetarian.

Don't mind us, just some DEAD FREAKING BIRDS.

I tried to take a selfie with a horrified face by the entrance to the exhibit, knowing that I’d share my dismay on this blog, but I was caught by a security guard who wanted to be helpful and offered to take a photo of me. Not realizing that I was trying to make a funny face, after he snapped the first shot he looked at the photo, consternated, and said, “…let me try again.” He was trying to capture a more delicate-looking facial expression from me, I think, bless his heart. So, what I ended up with was something in between what I wanted and what he wanted.

A funny-turned-awkward photo op.

My favorite room, and last stop on my museum tour, was the room full of gems and minerals. I love looking at all the different textures, hues and consistencies. I find it very peaceful to just enjoy the items, and since I was by myself I could take as much or as little time as I wanted with each exhibit. Despite being alone, in fact, I found myself briefly concerned with how my fellow museum-goers would think of me if I moved on from a display too quickly, and then I snapped back to reality and realized, this is my time, nobody cares what I do, I’m the boss. So I was able to go straight to my favorites, which were mostly the displays of opal. If I could wear an outfit made of opal, I’d probably do it. It’s delicate and glittering, seemingly unreal — like something that would live alongside mermaids and unicorns.

Opal is tangible magic.

After I was exhausted at the Science museum, I touched base with one of my oldest friends, Merritt, who now lives in Houston and works at the Museum of Fine Arts. He swung by the Science museum so I could leave my car in the garage, and we headed to a really cute little cafe in his neighborhood that would easily fit in in Austin — the waiters had piercings, tattoos and all the hair colors of the hair rainbow, the patrons looked young and hip, for the most part, and there was delicious food to gobble up. I opted for a salad as I caught up on Merritt’s life and vice versa, and I was so pleased to see my dear friend find such passion for his work. He seemed to radiate happiness, which is such a fulfilling thing to experience alongside your friend. And despite having worked shifts the previous 6 days at the museum, Merritt was not only willing, but exited to show me around the MFAH after lunch.

It pays to have a friend at the museum. With his credentials, Merritt was able to grant us both access to the two special MFAH exhibits — Sculpted in Steel, and High Society. For the former, we walked through rooms of vehicles-as-art:  art deco automobiles that were sleek and gorgeous, if perhaps a bit impractical (looking at you, van with MOVABLE 4-LEGGED CHAIRS INSIDE). The colors were vibrant, the materials inside luxurious, and the instrument panels mimicked that of an airplane. Plus, I finally got to see a Bugatti up close and understand what Britney Spears has been singing about all this time!

Merritt was most excited to share the works of portrait artist Franz X. Winterhalter, and when he walked me through and gave me the background story on him and his brother Hermann, I could totally understand why. Before we even got to the exhibit, back at lunch, Merritt was explaining to me how Franz was enlisted to paint the portraits of royalty, which got me thinking — did royalty want to look exactly true-to-life, or similar to today, would they want to appear a bit…enhanced? Merritt was pleased with my train of thought and explained that this was why Winterhalter was so popular among royalty — his subjects looked like themselves, but definitely more refined and beautiful. He was one of the original photoshoppers, people!!! He also helped to create the desire for a haute couture culture, because his subjects wanted great focus on the clothes they were wearing. There were so many subtleties about his work — the fact that he had Queen Victoria looking directly at her subjects, where Prince Albert was looking at the Queen; how to recognize when he was in love with his subject (which happened at least twice in the exhibit we saw). It was just marvelous stuff, and reminded me how much I enjoy art when someone who is knowledgable about it can explain the background to me.

Me and Merritt. I'm making a goober face because I accidentally turned the camera to face the other way while I was trying to take our photo before.

After we completed our journey into the past, Merritt dropped me back at the garage and I drove back to the hotel. I relaxed for a little while, watching more HGTV, and then started to get myself ready for the main event, my own queen, Queen Bey. I donned my Ivy Park sports bra and jersey, and then waited for my dear Katie to appear so we could drink champagne and get to it. When Katie arrived, Mrs. New Mom had to do some pumpin’ before we left, so she sat in the big chair by the window and simultaneously drank her champagne LIKE A BOSS. I ended up drinking the lion’s share, e.g. I was in high spirits by the time we arrived inside the NRG, and also I was craving pizza RULL bad.

Giving Bey my MONEYYYY.

We grabbed our pizza and made our way down to THE FLOOR. What’s that? You can’t believe we got floor seats for Beyonce? Well, quite frankly, neither could we, but thanks to our local barbershop, Birds, we had a chance to enter-and-win two floor passes so we could breathe in as much of Bey as was possible. Birds awarded each of us a ticket, me for dressing head-to-toe in Bey gear, Katie for appealing to their hearts with her baby dressed in an “I Woke Up Like This” onesie. We kinda killed it.

The winning entries, replete with Bey song title usage.

What happened next was kind of a blur. We missed most of DJ Khaled because we wanted to hit the restrooms one last time before the show. We made friends with a woman sitting next to Katie who was also a mom, so they talked mom shop and then loud music blared from the speakers and video came up on the giant screens. Everybody freaked out, but then it turned out to be an ad for Ivy Park. Cool, cool, I’m wearing IP, all good. Then another video played, we freaked out again, and THAT turned out to be an ad for Lemonade (as if we all hadn’t already downloaded it, c’mon.) Another video — another Ivy Park ad. Despite cries from a gentleman in the row behind us who declared, “NO NOT THE FUCKING FLOWER AGAIN, C’MON!!” I think we all respected the self-advertising at the Bey show. When you’re Bey, you can use your time as you please.

When the lights finally dimmed, I screamed like a woman possessed. No exaggeration: I found a red welt-like thing on my throat the next day from screaming as hard as I did. In retrospect I feel a LITTLE bad for the people around me, but from what I can remember in the haze of everything, they were shrieking, too. How could you not? One of the most powerful women in America flashed on the giant box screen in front of us, declaring her presence.

Beyonce is a superstar, so the aesthetics — the spectacle — of her live performance are top notch. The costumes are jaw-droopingly gorgeous — black bodysuits with wide-brimmed hats, gold-encrusted bodysuits that pay homage to Michael Jackson’s Super Bowl look, stunningly sparkly white jumpsuits with lace, a fur coat and a cowboy hat (for “Daddy Issues,” naturally). The giant, rotating box of a video screen that allows Bey to project herself, either as she is or with effects and filters. Aerial dancers swinging on ropes and metal boxes. A lipped stage that allows for water to be brought in at the end of the show, so Bey and her dancers can kick it up and out to her fans, baptizing them, helping them be reborn.

The Queen

But with all of the gorgeous spectacle, the root of what Bey has done is what makes her live show so compelling. It is the strength and beauty of her powerful voice, the specific images she chooses to represent on the screen behind her, the community she has built around her. As a white woman, there were words, phrases and imagery in the show that did not belong to me, so I left them to their rightful community. But what I did draw from was the power in womanhood, the strength to move through pain. The desire to lift each other up and let everyone thrive.

The happiest ladies

“Freedom” is one of my favorite songs from Lemonade. It is a song that has a specific and separate meaning outside of my white womanhood that I respect and stand behind, though I do not experience it. For me, it also helps me with my eating disorder, with my internal prison of anxiety that has locked me up for so many years of my life. When Beyonce sings, “I’ma keep running, ‘cause a winner don’t quit on themselves,” I am set free of my internal restraints, of the physical restrictions the Western world tries to place on me and on everyone. I draw power from it, and it moves me for what it is to me, and what it is so far beyond that.

The power of songs like “Freedom,” “Formation,” “Sorry” and “Don’t Hurt Yourself” balanced well with the pure joy of singing “Drunk in Love” and “Survivor” in a sea of thousands. With a set list of 31 songs plus multiple musical interludes (including the Prince version of “Purple Rain” blasting over the NRG speakers, with the tour box lit up purple, which almost brought me to tears) it’s hard to “summarize” the show. Honestly, I sort of wouldn’t want to try, because this is something to experience. It’s the community, the physical vibe you experience when you attend the church of Bey, that makes the whole thing transcendent.

Katie and I stumbled out of the venue with the rest of the concert attendees, and chewed on what we’d been through aloud, trying to process the imagery and feelings. Mental photographs flashed through my mind — the dancers smiling widely as they got to two-step for “Daddy Issues;” the fierce, guttural screams that punctuated the end of “Freedom;” Beyonce’s coy smile as she pointed to lucky fans in the front row, saying, “I see some familiar faces;” the confetti that floated like snowflakes to emphasize “Party;” Bey kicking water like a happy child out onto her fans as “End of Time” melted into “Halo.” By the time we got back to my hotel room so Katie could pump before she got on the road, we were dazed, half-zombies. I fell asleep dreaming of rain drops and confetti.

Also we MADE IT ONTO BEYONCE DOT COM!!!! "You" is Katie, "Me" is me.

The next morning, I got up as early as I could muster and drove to Shipley’s for some doughnuts and coffee. I had no idea what I was doing at the drive-through, since I’d never been to Shipley’s before, so I’m sure the car that eventually pulled up behind me was filled with eye-rolling regulars. I hurried along and tried to order 2 doughnuts plus what I thought was 3 doughnut holes, but when the girl at the checkout said, “3 bags of holes?!” I was like “OH NO NO just one thank you.” The coffee was meh, but the doughnuts were delicious and a perfect treat before I hit the road for my four hour journey to Dallas. I only stopped a couple times, and got really lucky with the bathrooms (clean! private! yay!) When I finally pulled up in front of my mom’s house that Mother’s Day afternoon, I was exhausted but relieved. I gave my mom a big Mother’s Day hug, and dragged my stuff inside and was greeted with doggie kisses from her two terriers.

Although Mellow Mushroom has exited Austin (boohoo!) they still exist in Texas, so our Mother’s Day meal was pizza from this most delicious of pizza joints, and then we headed home to relax and chat before bed. I got a chance to walk the terriers with my mom, and it was just such a special treat to be with her, since I don’t get to make the 3-plus hour visit to her as often as I’d want.

The next day, I had to do some work from home, but I still had a chance to watch The Price is Right with my mom and spend as much time as we needed getting dressed. My mom dressed IMPECCABLY, in an on-fashion basketball jersey with a coat, grey skirt and cool sneakers. I threw on my Ivy Park outfit again (with a different colored sports bra) and off we drove to the AT&T stadium in Arlington. We had to make a pit-stop at Target, since the AT&T folks don’t allow purses in the stadium (!!!!! what!!!!!! how and why!!!!!) so we had to get some clutches for our valuables, since we didn’t have pockets in our outfits.

Another day, another Ivy Park situation

We got a little lost on the AT&T grounds (y’all, it’s a goddamn maze. There’s the baseball stadium right there, as well as Six Flags, so it’s just rows on rows of parking lots and bleh.) Luckily we’d pre-paid for parking, and our lot was super close to the stadium so once we dropped the car we were inside the stadium gates in minutes.

Mom was kind enough to let me wait in the merch line so I could get my hands on as much Bey merch as I could afford (the silk tour jacket being the pièce de résistance), and then we headed inside to grab drinks and our seats. We had a really solid vantage point, and I was glad to experience the tour both on and off the floor, because it let me see Bey up close, and then pull back to see the effect of all the dance moves and theatrics.

The tour pins, which now live on my jean jacket.

Mom was smart enough to bring a pair of binoculars (the idea was her husband, Scott’s — good move!) and so she was able to spy on the stage for us, noticing when there was movement by the back stairs. We actually got to see all of DJ Khaled’s performance, including guest spots from Bun B and O.T. Genasis, and he got our hearts pumping before the long wait for Bey to appear. From my new vantage point, I could see that the video screen Formation box actually had SECRET PANELS, so mom and I giggled as we watched various workers sneak in and out with drinks in their hands (I’m thinking for Bey to sip on, but who knows). We watched the Mamas (Bey’s backup singers) take the stage and shake fans’ hands. Finally, after the same ads that did not fool me twice, it was time for take 2.

People have asked me what the differences were between the shows. While the set lists were almost the same, night 2 allowed me to really be in the present moment. Whereas I was just a living, breathing adrenaline rush night 1, on the second night I felt more awake dancing with my mom, complimenting new friends we made in the crowd.

I knew the Prince tribute was coming, and I didn’t warn my mother. You see, she is the biggest Prince fan I have ever known. Prince was a part of our family for as long as I could remember, to the point where I recall scolding my mom when I was probably seven years old for playing the sexy music while Edward had a friend visiting the house. This annoyed her, and in retrospect it should have because I was being a little seven-year-old prude. But anyway, I knew that the screen lit up purple was going to be a moving moment for my mom, and I didn’t want to spoil that. Little did I know, Bey had a special surprise just for us. For the first time on the Formation tour, Beyonce covered a Prince song herself — the heartbreakingly gorgeous, “The Beautiful Ones.” I stood there, shocked, and rubbed my mom’s shoulders as she sat in her seat and wept. Bey did an impeccable job — there’s video circling the interwebs, but it doesn’t do Bey justice. She KILLED this cover, with tears streaming down her face, and then still transitioned into the interlude of “Purple Rain,” which caused my mom to weep harder. This is a moment of my life I will never, ever forget.

The scene during "Purple Rain," with phones lit up like starlight around the stadium.

“Freedom” hit harder night 2 as well, because my mom knew that this was my “get back in the ring” boxing song, and so she felt the power of it in the same way I did, which connected me to her, too. Whereas in Houston, Bey gave heartfelt thanks to the fans who’d been with her from day one, spreading the love she feels for her hometown, in Dallas she was our cheerleader, our strong big sister telling us that it was all gonna be OK. She was supposed to be singing “Halo” as her closer, and the fireworks and special effects were running as if nothing was different, but Bey insisted, “I’m supposed to be singing but I’m gonna talk.” She went on to talk about seeing Michael Jackson as her first concert, and thinking at the time, “I want to do that.” Then she said, “I wanna say to all of the young ladies, I am you and you are me and you could be on this stage one day. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. All you have to do is dream and you will make it a reality for yourself. Thank y’all for this beautiful night.” I just got shivers reliving this moment, because it was exactly what I needed to hear from a woman who has given me so much inner strength over the past few years.

My mom and I were in total awe leaving the stadium, and we just jammed to Lemonade as we waited out the traffic and headed home again. I had an early wake-up the next morning to drive back to Austin, straight to work (where Zack would adorably meet me, running towards me for a hug). But it was all so very worth it, because I got to celebrate womanhood and femininity with three of the most important women in my life. We all need memories, dreams, hopes and wishes to hold tight to for those days where we feel down, less-than, bummed out by our current lot in life. That is what the Formation tour has done for me — the whole trip around Texas, really. It reaffirmed that life is good and people are good and we’re all in this together.

My mom and me

P.s. This needs it’s own special comment because I’m now in love with this vlogger: prior to seeing Bey’s tour, right after Lemonade dropped, I tried to find as many reviews of the album by black women as possible so I could educate myself on the deeper meanings of the record. One of the favorites I came across was from a woman based right here in Austin, Texas — Evelyn from the Internets. What I didn’t know was that Bey was watching, too, and so Evelyn ended up in the Formation tour!! I mention this because I have since started watching as many of Evelyn’s videos as possible and they are charming and hilarious, and you should watch them, too.