Austin to the Max

I'm thinking about changing the name to reflect the only thing I apparently write about any more. Also to make my mother's head explode. Auuuuustin...AUUUUUUSSSTIN! My mother is worried, you see, and not without justification, that I will end up moving to Austin. Hi, Mom! Happy Mother's Day.

It's senior week in the Bend, and so the cold and rain have descended upon us to make sweet, kinky love on the quads. You lose, seniors! It is very likely that one of my senior weeks was beautiful, possibly!

So I took a long weekend to head out once more to Austin and celebrate the end of Lizett's term as a 1L. Unfortunately my flight was absurdly early and I ended up getting there about 5 hours before she finished her last final, leaving me to wander the streets aimlessly looking bewildered. Mostly I was looking bewildered because it was like 80 degrees out and everyone around campus was wearing long pants. Several girls were wearing sweaters, and one guy was wearing a jacket. Freaking Texas! I will kill you! Anyway, I had to entertain myself for a few hours, so I decided it was high time I paid a visit to the Church of Scientology.

It was an enormous disappointment. I thought I would get some sort of zany story out of it, maybe run into one of the nation's dumber celebrities. Nothing. The building was kind of a shit hole, their chapel was a bunch of folding chairs in front of a shoddy podium, and there was nothing in the lobby but a single shelf filled with L. Ron Hubbard books. Isn't the entire point of your religion to make money? Where's the gold, baby? Where's the ostentation? I asked the clerk what he could tell me about Scientology, and he listlessly gestured to a TV from 1985 and said "Um, I can show you a video." A video? No presentation, no pitch? C'mon, I was dressed okay! I'm upwardly mobile! What's wrong with my money? Loooooooove meeeeeeeee!

So that killed all of 10 minutes. Fortunately there was a mall next door where I spotted some very gropy lesbians and chased them around for a while, hopping from foot to foot and rocking some jazz hands while I falsettoed "Leeeeeeeesbians!" If you've known me or Ball for more than a month, you're familiar with the dance. Then I hopped on to Chipotle, hit the bookstore (where they have a doorbell on their restrooms...freaking Texas! I will kill you!), wandered around the campus for a while (it's very nice), and finally headed to some restaurant where, in a bid to be the saddest human being on earth, I sat for an hour sipping coors light and flipping through a stack of old ratty trivial pursuit cards. When I could take no more I headed back to the Law School and resigned myself to watching TV for the last hour--I know I really missed the train on this one, but Judge Judy is a huge freaking bitch.

When the exam was over we headed over to a nearby bar for burgers and beers on some law firm. It was a cool place, and I am here to tell you that the only thing better than free beers after a final is free beers when you didn't even have to take a final. We took the bus home after becoming pleasantly soused and in what is becoming a disturbing trend blew off the rest of the evening's plans to go to bed--prepare yourself--at 9. Now to be fair, Lizett had just finished a week of finals and I had gotten up, Texas time, at 3am, but still--I hate us, and would have lost all respect for us if we had not then slept in the next day until almost 1. Now that, brothers, is some good sleeping.

Friday, well rested and ready to rumble, we headed out for a full day of eating, boozing, and general shenanigans. We hit some restaurant for lunch called Shady Grove or something and ate at the outdoor bar. And ate. And ate. Our relationship hit a new plateau when Lizett put the afternoon plans on hold to head back to sprawl on the couch and "moan and rub her belly" until the swelling went down. Sex. Ae. I've also discovered that she is now comfortable:

• belching
• saying "I hate you" often and enthusiatically
• eating crawdads
• discussing the ins and outs of drowning in your own poop

I could provide some context to allay the embarrassment-inducing awfulness of that last one, but instead I think I won't. You see, equivalently, I'm now comfortable wrecking her on the internet for no reason. Actually, I don't think you can so much call these developments a new plateau as a return to our previously enjoyed comfort level. Have you ever tried dating someone you've already been friends with for years? Man, the switchover is some awkward shiat. Anyway, the point is...something. We finally headed out after much digestion to play the most confusing round of frisbee golf of all time, and ended up quitting halfway through to get dinner at a Cajun place because it had a picture of a frog smoking a cigar out front (we could go to Ninfa's, they have good mexican food--WHOA! That place has a FROG smoking a CIGAR!!). It wasn't bad. Lizett ordered crawdads, which is the grossest thing I have ever seen--and we watched Hostel later that weekend. She might as well have been eating a big bowl of live roaches, or a human head. Either would have provided a similar gag reflex. We also ordered a huge fishbowl drink because it came with a tiny plastic alligator, which we named Allister, the Bathtime Fun Buddy.

Me: How's this drink?
Server: <retching> It's terrible.
Me: <eyeing the words 'plastic alligator'> We'll take it!

God, what an unnecessary level of detail. Time to wrap up! Friday night was the big par-tae, we headed out to a giant billiards club where there was supposedly a big tab for the law students--we got there about 15 minutes late, and it had long since been blown away. I think someone ordered a bucket of Cristal or something. Freaking Texas! It was a good time though. Everyone, being done with finals, was in a great mood, and I finally got to meet some of Lizett's friends.

Clearly that is us at the bar, and not 4 years ago at TC. Saturday we had some adventures involving a long hike, a drug deal, oreos and beer simultaneously, and a shark biting a dog, but clearly I'm done writing.