America the Awesome

This is a few weeks late but I wanted to write a little bit about what a great time I had in America on my recent vacation.

It’s unlike me to write without some level of snark, but I genuinely enjoyed myself. I admit, returning to America was strange and not totally dissimilar from reentering the matrix, but that’s a story for another post.

I Dream About This.

I never thought I would EVER in my entire life or even lives after this one utter the phrase, “It’s great to be back in Texas,” but it was. Seeing my family and friends was simply spectacular.

Gettin' it Done

Wow, this is a really boring post. It’s hard to be funny when in a moment of serenity. Maybe that’s why all those zen ass hippies are so annoying. Open my Chakra? Excuse me sir! But it takes at least three dates and two martini’s for me to do anything of that nature.

To get back on topic, I split my time between Dallas and San Antonio. In Dallas it was great to see my climbing pals, and make a mandatory pit stop at D-rocks. BTW, I left my orange water bottle there. Could you hold on to that for another 18 months? Thanks!

Zack and I spent a good amount of time climbing and even fit in a trip to Mineral Wells state park, where I was a less than ideal climbing partner. Aside from it being frigid, therefore making me less inclined to be outside, I managed to say some of the worst things you could possibly say to another climber. Notables were:

Like a Champ

“Oh wow, a Grigri (A critical safety device) I haven’t used one of these in a long time!”
“Don’t die.”
“Oh shit, that’s a drop.” - I said this at the exact moment Zack began lowering himself over a ledge to rappel into the ravine. Not so nice.

Recognizing myself, I apologized for the fact that “I’ve said nothing positive today.” Brilliantly, a man down the way with his wife and family then shouts to Zack, “It never gets any better!” His wife seems like a sport, and that comment might have made all my crassness worth it. Zack and I laughed pretty hard.

While in San Antonio at my parents' house, the objective was to eat as much food as possible. Earlier in the week, when asked what I missed most about the states, I, without pause nor consideration for my family or my boyfriend, replied, “Cheese.” I don't care if I hurt their feelings.

Cake Gluttony!

My Mom and Dad seem to be on sort of health kick. Apparently, no longer is it the goal to consume as much as possible at every meal. Weird. I know. However, they graciously made an exception for me. Anyone who has eaten a meal at that house knows how good the food is and would completely understand my unapologetic gluttony.

You want to eat that.

Friends came over, and we had a fantastic meal on Friday night. There was steak, grilled scallions, pasta pomodoro, and not one but two gluten free dessert options compliments of myself. Chocolate cake with nuts and dried fruit, and an olive oil cake with rosemary and a honey orange syrup. Ok, to be fair, I had help from Zack and my Dad to get these done. I went a little Gordon Ramsey on them, shouting out orders for the better part of two hours, but they took it well. As an aside, I have to commend Zack on such tremendous success on his first turn in the Schrang kitchen. It’s a crazy place and I myself have not always faired so well.

A Just Reward

So while I wasn’t shoving my face with as many atrocities against man and Dr. Oz as possible, (Bacon Candy anyone?), my Mom was dragging me to Bikram Yoga. Yeah, that’s the yoga in the really hot room. My first session was a success. Success is defined by not marching out of that hellfire of a room. Although a mine was a qualified success, seeing as I ralphed immediately after. I promise a decadent evening at one of Austin’s finest restaurants with Oliver the night before had nothing to do with it, but more on that later.

Before Yoga

After Yoga

Despite first session “jitters” I loved Bikram yoga. I went about 4 times while in San Antonio and felt results in just that short time. It’s not for everyone, just look at the photos above, but it’s worth checking out.

Not Danny

Ok that brings me to Uchi, the a fore mentioned restaurant. Nothing happens at Uchi but epic-ness.  Uchi is a sushi restaurant in Austin, but calling it a sushi restaurant in no way properly classifies it. Uchi isn’t a restaurant, but an event. Oliver has taken me twice now, and both times I have left with an extremely full belly and lots of happiness.  I know that sounds like I stole it off a fortune cookie, but it’s true. I could describe just how fresh the fish is, how creative the hot plates, and how awesome it was to be served nigiri with direct orders from our sushi chef to “not fuck it up with soy sauce,” but really you should just go. Order the tasting menu. Submit to what they serve you, and enjoy every bite.

That rounds out the highlights of my trip. I want to thank everyone for giving me such a warm welcome. I’d like to give a final shout out to Aunt Julie and Uncle Anthony for coming out to see me. It was a delight to spend that time with you. I miss you both terribly, so thank you.

I promise to come back with a little more sarcasm in future posts, but this was really awesome trip that need not be sullied with snark. In the words of Danny the sushi chef, I simply wanted to “not fuck it up.”

A few more pics