Originally titled Growing Up Just Isn't What I Thought It Would Be, this vox presence is my longest running blog. Welcome to the Rest of My Life is just that--an invitation to follow the story of what happens now, after coming to terms, like any good grown-up, with a certain degree of ambiguity.

Among other things, this is where I wax poetic and not-so on whatever is of interest at the moment. You'll often find ramblings on politics, work place culture, friendship, relationships, humor, and all the little things that fill daily life. Some posts are marked private--as much for your protection as my own--so to see everything you'll need to join the vox community and add me to your neighborhood. Glad to chat with any and all. Thanks for stopping by.

He wasn't back as soon as I thought, but I'm glad I dressed because the surgeon came in shortly after to let me know how it went. All is well. No stones in ducts. No second surgery needed. Very inflamed gallbladder means another 2 nights in the hospital most likely as we bring him back onto solid food and make sure no infection is still around.

He is back in the room now, in and out of sleep which is great as it'll help shake off the anesthesia. He's totally lucid when he's awake. He said to tell Mia he was brave. He also said with a bit of innocence in his raspy voice and surprise in his eyes, "This sucks." Yes, it does. But he's going to be ok.

He asked if I was afraid. I pretended not to hear. Was I afraid? Of course. Not panicked, not distraught, but the love of my life was in territory neither of us had control over. And things happen...

But luckily, thankfully, wonderfully not today.

Morning.

The room is colder now after a full night here with the A/C blowing and especially now after they've wheeled him down the hall and around the corner to surgery. It's a small hospital. Tiny, really, and perhaps there's something comforting about knowing the OR is so close, but I'm not sure.

It's just routine surgery. Lots of folks have it all the time. I know this. But, as always, there are the risks and the papers they make you sign. And it is general anesthesia, which means this is serious business to me.

I brought him to the ER night after last after many hours of abdominal pain. The pain was familiar to him, but this time much much worse. When he finally woke me to tell me something was wrong there was already panic in his eyes. It was bad enough that breathing was hard. I was glad when he gave in to going to the hospital. (Something he has, apparently, been accused of doing too often.)

My little town has a brand new hospital and though its beds are full, its ER was empty. We saw a doctor right away and after a quick assessment and watching the sharp intake of breath that came with pressing on the right side under the rib cage, he was whisked off for an ultrasound. The med tech joked, "So we can see if it's a boy or a girl..." and on his return he, "You're going to need an addition to the house." The verdict was a gall bladder full of stones that would have to come out.

"I have a bag of marbles for a gall bladder."

They transferred him then at about 6 a.m. to this smaller hospital with empty beds and a surgeon who would fit him in, but who opted to schedule him today at 7:30. They gave him IV saline and antibiotics to treat what was assumed to be infection where inflammation appeared on the ultrasound. The day was mostly uneventful. He was stir crazy, and in very little pain, especially when compared with the night before, and they only started a little pain med in the evening. No food, no drink, not even water, though, since he'd arrived at the ER. "I'll trade you that morphine for a cheeseburger." Friends stopped by to say hello. The new nurse who came in at shift change made him smile a little. And he sung a bit of "I'm just a sweet transvestite..." while he put on his compression stockings as so ordered.

But the night was hard. Pain and nausea. Meds. "Can I have a glass of water?" No. Another anti-nausea med. He popped right after that and, thankfully, felt better. He fell asleep. I fell asleep.

This morning they prepped him and then I lay in his bed with him for a while. We talked. We dozed. I asked if I could post to his Facebook when he's back, and am laughing now a little at the status I'm to use for his update.

They wheeled him away at 7:17. When I knew I was out of sight, I cried a little. I'm calm, really, in these situations and have been throughout. But the nurse's assumption that we're married made me worry...if something should happen and I'm found out, then no one will be around for decisions.

But nothing will happen. They'll wheel him back, minus a faulty gall bladder, and he'll recover over time, hopefully quickly. And not have to be back here for a long time, if ever.

Morning.

Room is cold and empty with his robotic bed gone. I watched him as they took his vitals this morning, before he realized I was watching, and saw how exhausted he was...his face drawn like I've never seen...despite a night of sleep.

I said what you always say in these scenes, "Love you." And then, as they moved him into the hallway, "Be brave. Don't forget what Mia said." My friends' little girl, 5 years old, who is quite taken with him, had sent that message along. He managed a half laugh, genuine though, and off he went.

Time to get dressed before he's back. And he'll be back. Soon.

Have I really not posted since ACL? WTF?

Alright time to get back in the swing of things, though probably will have to keep this post to just the daily details.

For now, work is busy and better stay so as I have big plans ahead and am still broke as a joke from paycheck to paycheck, but glad to have the jobby job still.

Home is busy too. I'm cleaning out the house of all the unwanted stuff I've still held onto for some unknown reason and having a garage sale with another neighbor tomorrow. Trying to get the rest of the block in on the act too. You know what that madness is like. Craigslist, fliers, early arrivals, etc. but it's supposed to be beautiful weather so we decided to go for it.

The pets are all still here and in need of new owners, though the local human society has agreed to accept the 2 youngest cats if I don't adopt them out first. I'm heartbroken and, yet, as I just spent the morning first walking all over and then sweeping up cat litter scatter. Then I mopped. Had to, was too disgusting to stand. Also made rice for the sick dog since she was sick to her stomach this morning...but she turned up her nose at my efforts, so she can suck it. :-)

I was in El Paso over the weekend showing off my hometown and introducing my love to all the family and friends present. It went very well and we will likely both be back at Thanksgiving together.

I'm home now for a couple of weeks and then off to St. Louis to see my girlfriend and her 'new' baby who is already crawling, quel tragedy!

Oh, and did I mention what this year's Halloween costume is going to be? Heh heh heh...my trip home netted some great stuff that mom has been saving for years, and so I shall be going as a 12 year old version of myself. While I'm sporting a side-pony in the run-through pic below, I'm actually trying to find a crimper to really do it up right. Note the charm necklace and NKOTB fan gear. :) [And hey you coworker readers, no fair telling anyone else at work what I'm going to be! Or I shall hunt you down and cram pumpkin seeds in your eyeholes!]

Friday was beautiful. Grass was green. Music was loud.  Phoenix was lilting and though experienced fans say they didn't give their best performance, as a first timer I was sold on their enthusiasm and their sounds, despite supposed tech issues. Raphael Saddiq from Toni!Tony!Tone! (or some order of Tonys) was an updated throwback to days of beautiful soul sounds, and he gave a solid show that lived up to expectations. Them Crooked Vultures rocked, though perhaps not quite as hard as I expected or wanted. (In my head they are overshadowed by 'Trail of Dead' the next day, but more on that in a second.) The Yeah Yeah Yeahs rocked my world in various ways and with various sounds. I love me a powerful front girl and Karen O be the real deal. Plus, toward the end of the show, I snaked my way to the outskirts of the viewing area, up on a bit of a rolling hill, busted out my trusty picnic mat, and did a little yoga under the stars. Yes, there were people around, but not within annoyed view of shitty poses, and besides it's Austin so no one blinked an eye. The bike rides to and from Zilker park were beautiful.

Saturday was joyfully hardcore. It started sprinkling in the morning as I rode my bike to Chuy's on Barton Springs to meet up with BitchBuzz writer Jelisa Castrodale. (Funny gal, look her up yo!) The drizzle gave way to a torrential downpour as ...And They Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead (ellipses is part of the name, thanks) rocked a crowd that was actually seemed invigorated by the rain. I saw Grizzly Bear earlier, pre-rain, but babysat a drunken friend of a friend of a friend so didn't get to pay much attention. (I'm expecting a karma payout for that act of kindness sometime in the future...cause that was some shite let me tell you.) I can't remember much of the rest. I know I saw other bands, but the night was when the mud began to take hold, when the air finally dipped into the chilly zone, and I headed back to the hotel on my bike a bit early (about 15 into Dave--sorry, Dave, I couldn't feel my feet)--cold and yet sweating as I pedaled for my life on Cesar Chavez. (Be kind, people. Next time you see a cyclist, share the road for fuck's sake! Er, I mean, please.) After a good hour of showering and recuperation, I headed out to the Mohawk on Red River for some DJd fun by NASA. I gave it the old college try, but I was beat and back at the hotel by 2 a.m.

Sunday morning dawned with my laptop still burning on the bed and the beginnings of a cold in my head. Headed out. The rain was gone. The mud was omnipresent. 'Dillo mud, made from 'Dillo Dirt, the all organic compost fertilizer made and sold by the City of Austin, and used by Austin Parks and Rec to grow the beautiful Great Zilker Lawn we last saw on Friday. That's right. The entire place was a hippy mud pit...that smelled like shit. Don't believe me? Didn't know that was poop--sanitized poop, but poop nonetheless--you were trudging in? Bet you wish you'd bought those rainboots now. Still the music was the medicine and I saw a bit o' the B-52's (before they die, yay!) do a set they joked (somewhat darkly) that they learned in karoake. The Heartless Bastards were my favorite of the day as, I may have mentioned this, I love me a powerful front girl. Excellent band (complete with rather hot drummer who reminds me strongly of my own love) didn't hurt either. I was up front for most of the set and then back at the press room for pics after. Hee. (They ignored my interview request this time, but they're back at the end of the month. Bwaahahaha!) Plowed to the head of The Dead Weather crowd, in a nice polite way, who thankfully are more rock and less angst than The Raconteurs. (Sorry but the latter aren't my fave, and they damn near put me to sleep last year, so pffffft!) I braved The Pearl Jam crowd for about a third of the set before hitting the wall--as in there was no way I was getting closer than my 30 yards from the stage, and I didn't think the view was worth the bit of inappropriate drunken groping from the fool behind me. So I hit up a hospitality tent and watched the rest of the show by HD feed, singing along with the rest of the cushy crowd, and enjoying myself thoroughly. Vedder brought out Ben Harper followed by Perry Farrell for the final jams, and that was that. (Except for another madcap bike ride, this time several pounds of mud heavier, and along an even darker trail, but with less traffic.)

I have to be honest. Despite the fact that I live in Austin--the live music capital of the world (it says so on our t-shirts)--I can’t claim much knowledge of the Austin music scene or anywhere else for that matter.  Most of what I do in this town has little to do with the music. I work here and…well, shit, I guess I mostly just work here. I play a little, too, but since that bitch Sallie Mae is always standing over my shoulder, even a $10 cover makes me think twice about showing up for a weeknight show.

So, no I don’t usually know who’s hot, who’s making a comeback, or who’s the next big thing. I don’t keep up with who produced what on whose album or what the degrees of separation are between one drummer and another. Don’t get me wrong, I find those connections and histories fascinating, and I wish I knew more of them, but I’m not a scholar. Not yet. I'm just a lover.

And that’s the thing …I love music. No really, I have a soundtrack in my head at all times (just like you do) and since I get to see so little of it, ACL is particularly special to me for being my chance to drink from the firehose. There’s something filmic and grander than life about standing out in the driving rain or jostling the crowd against an outdoor stage to see four little people, all of us gathered together for only that one moment in time. My absolute favorite way to find a band is to be forced into love with them at a show, preferably one I’m attending on a whim, so that it’s like falling hard for a near perfect stranger.

And as you can see from this string of words pouring forth, that little repeating love story, and its moments of inspiration, are as important as the music and the artists, the poetry and performance, and all the folk who sing to me, who ping something in my non-musical soul that goes ping right back...so much so that I'm struck with a manic passion to ride wildly home on a blind path, to find pen and scraps of paper, and to write until my eyes go red and the muscles in my neck seize in protest, or I pass out over my barely legible scrawl. Only to wake up the next morning and do it all again. Only to save my sheckles and do it all again next year.

And with that, ACL, thanks oh so much for the memories. Till next time...

Today is prep day. Picked up the bike I'm borrowing from a friend for my brother. Grabbed a few essentials at the store--antibacterial stuff, sunscreen (!), etc.--and ran to the mall to grab a cover for the new iPhone.

Things to do tonight before going to sleep (However, it's 4 AM....shit.)

1. Finish laundry
2. Upload Michigan pics to flickr
3. Charge camera battery

Things to do tomorrow

1. Go to Sam's for dog food
2. Pick up dog's prescription
3. Buy hot dogs to give pills to dog
4. Pack my bag
5. Pick up media credentials
6. Pick up little bro from the airport
7. Check into downtown hotel
8. Bike to Zilker
9. Try not to get soaked
10. See bands/artists who rock

Per #10, here's my schedule. Band I'm most looking forward to seeing tomorrow? Them Crooked Vultures. Big names, remixed.

Here's hoping the rain and inevitable mud, though messy, is less dangerous than the dust that gave me black lung for a week last year.

My Wednesday morning began with this...

And by afternoon...tada!

Yup, a certain someone compelled me--to put it lightly--to make the switch. And he was right--I absolutely love it, it's already indispensable and I don't know how I 'lived' without it.

One
Up late prepping for my weekend partially away from home and glad to have something to occupy my mind. My body rebelled tonight and reminded me just how much it sucks to be a girl and since I'm fairly certain I've maxed out on the amount of ibuprofen one should take in 24 hours, I'm just grinning and bearing it. Grrr...

Two
It seems my little sister and I have officially had a falling out. I keep reminding myself--and saying out loud to a certain someone who's indulged me with an amazing amount of patient listening--that she is eight years younger and I can't expect her to see things the way I do. That said, I still wish she'd call. And that said, I'm also okay with however long it takes to rebuild things between us and, also, with the possibility that we won't ever regain the closeness we had. I don't like it. It's certainly not my preference. But I'll live, and so will she.

Three
Actually, there isn't a third. Well, I think there was when I started this. Perhaps it had something to do with the pets or needing to clean, but really I don't have anything else to vent about. When you really think about, I have nothing to vent about. My life is excellent right now. I'm under a roof instead of out in the rain. I'm madly in love and making plans. And I have a weekend of fun and music to look forward to, despite said rain, with the little brother and a couple of friends. So, tra la la, number three is really just a sleepy thank you to the universe with the implied request to keep all my loved ones safe on their journeys today and over the next several days.

• 09:33 Foiled by technology this morning. :( #
• 11:59 RT @BitchBuzz: RT @girlonetrack Salon on Polanski: the ONLY piece you should read. bit.ly/3wIZ7E #
• 12:14 Looking for that something special to decorate with ghoulish glee? Make your own house zombies for Halloween! bit.ly/3wSKZc #
• 14:54 Working on the day job and prepping my ears for ACL. I have too many choices. Head going to explode. Crossing fingers for ACL tapings tix. #

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• 13:14 Final TMI Update from Yours Truly :) RT @BitchBuzz: BitchBuzz Life: So You Want to Freeze Your Eggs: Part 3 retwt.me/ndOz #
• 13:28 RT @DatelineDisney: HalloweenTime is here! Space Mountain Ghost Galaxy, Halloween Screams fireworks & construction su.pr/1Rg39S #
• 17:00 I've kept them as long as I could. Are you looking for a few good cats and dogs? Look here, please. U may need 2 login. bit.ly/Iv5QX #

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