"I'm only a hippie at heart."

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"This is why I don't take you to airports."
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Last Thursday Daniel and I drove to Austin. We went with a mission: to acquire a replacement copy of my birth certificate. Mine mysteriously went missing, along with a few other important pieces of paper that are probably all in a never-unpacked box somewhere in my closet or my kitchen, where half of my belongings lay dormant, mummified in cardboard and packing tape. (When it comes to moving, I am evidently a wonderful packer and a perfectly wretched un-packer.)

Being the directionally-challenged creature that I am, I didn't want to make the trip alone. Especially since I wasn't sure if Metro PCS offered service in Austin yet, and I was pretty sure there would be no service in the nowheretowns between. So Danny went with me and even drove most of the way, which was a nice thing to do because the ugly storm from the night before was still making its way through town and there were fallen tree limbs and bum traffic lights everywhere. And that would've been stressful. (Thank you, Danny.)

We departed around 6:00 am and stopped for breakfast at Sunshine Donuts (a.k.a. The Second-Best Donut Shop in the South...surpassed in marvelousness only by a little shop in Round Rock, TX that I remember from when I was itty-bitty. I think it was called Lone Star Donuts. Best kolaches in town).

So. We hit the road. Had a rather uneventful trip down. We waited in line at the Department of Vital Statistics, filled out forms and watched two antsy little boys run circles around their mother. Then we went to the window to process the forms, sat down and waited a little more while watching the littler of the two boys try to make a daring escape through the automatic doors only to be halted by his older brother, who got a kick out of playing "guard", and lovingly threatened his kid brother with an imaginary spear, which was executed by means of a formidable tickle fight. It was extreeeeemely cute. Gah. I love little boys.

The lady called me back to the window to pay for the stuff, and only then did I learn that they wouldn't take plastic. Cash or check only. So we went to the government building next door in pursuit of the ATM that could be found there.

Going down the very vacant hallway, Danny said, "Man...these walls make everything echo so much...I'm almost afraid to say anything!"

And then, in a moment of extreme stupidity, I quickly quipped, "Why? It's not like you're gonna say anything bad...unless you mention that pipe bomb you've got hidden in your pocket."

Danny flipped out and frantically shushed me. I immediately understood my idiocy...and burst out laughing.

Walking back to the DVS to pay for my birth certificate, I was still laughing..."Did I really say that? I guess you can't say that here."

Danny just sighed..."This is why I don't take you to airports," he said.


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"Stupid Hippies"
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After a wait of tolerable duration, the lady at the window called me over and told me there would be a two hour wait, so Danny and I left in pursuit of lunch. We found a Gatti's Pizza (which are scarce around here, but plentiful in Austin) and ate lunch while discussing the city. Austin, you see, is Hippietown, USA.

No, seriously. Danny and I decided we want to get a group of friends together for a road trip one weekend to downtown Austin so we can have a hippie safari. Or maybe play a few rounds of Hippie Bingo. You could take a scorecard with you and get points for seeing the telltale signs of a city overrun by hippies. It might look like this:

-3 points for every time you see the word "vegetarian" or "veggie"
-5 points for every time you see a sign campaigning against puppy mills
-2 points for every panhandler
-5 points for every man with mutton chops and/or inordinately long hair
-8 points for every time you see an unnatural hair color (green, blue, pink, etc.)
-3 points for every "Keep Austin Weird" bumper sticker
-5 points for every beat-up Volkswagen
-3 points for every cyclist spotted more than three blocks away from the UT campus.
-8 points for every street performer not found on Sixth Street
-10 points for every art car

Yes, we saw nearly all of these things. Multiple times.

The art cars may have been my favorite thing there. We saw this beauty on our way back to pick up my birth certificate...



I wanted a picture with it, but Danny thought it might be in poor taste to step out of my car and strike a pose. So I compromised...



I think I'm in love with Austin.

One thing I do not love, however, is the Austin driving. They're all crazy there, I tell you. Swerving into random lanes, peeling out of parking lots into midday traffic downtown, stopping in the middle of the road for no apparent reason.

The catchphrase du jour was "Gah! Stupid hippies..."
It was repeated every time a knapsack-toting cyclist rolled out into a red light.

It was repeated every time a panhandling hobo in a tie-dye shirt stepped off the curb without following the "stop-look-listen" code we all learned in kindergarten.

It was repeated every time a banged up early 90's-model Jeep nearly killed us. Which was often.

Stupid hippies.


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"But I love the hippies..."
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I actually got a pretty big kick out of it. Danny seemed generally disgusted by the indie-folk atmosphere. But I loved it. I beamed and pointed out every ridiculously quirky, veggie-loving, small-animal-advocating, guitar-strumming inch of that lovably weird little city.

Daniel just shook his head ruefully and sighed, "Good lord, I've fallen in love with a hippie."

Sorry, sugar. But at least I'm not a kinetic hippie. I'm only a hippie at heart.


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"That's pretty much everything."
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It was a pretty fun trip. I wanna do it again, sans the Department of Vital Statistics and the imaginary pipe bombs.

Until next time, beloved, I remain...


Quintessentially yours,
~Ashley Michele~