Two loaves were not enough.

There’s been baking and shopping and stressing and back aches and planning and writing and all these things have kept me from blogging and that’s fairly lame.

Sorry.

I’m not kidding about all the baking though. Holy bajez! I’ve made banana nut bread that was better than nom-worthy.

And then I went over to Pinch My Salt and saw this HOLY CRAP AMAZING recipe for Lemon Poppyseed Zucchini Bread and messed my drawers a little. I immediately bought poppyseeds and left a perfectly happy happy hour and spent Friday night baking away.

It. Was. So. Worth. It.

This was the most amazingly moist, perfect bread in the whole world. Two loaves were not enough.

I didn’t take a photo, but I will next time. Because there most certainly will be a next time.

In the meantime, here’s a photo of me and Tony.

Bourdain’s talk and Q&A at the Paramount was fabulous. I waited damn near the end of the line to get my book signed and lucky for me, he waited patiently for every single one of us. Does this mean all is forgiven for letting the world know about my own private Idaho? Maybe.

There was this crazy night where I proofed/waited for proofing/proofed/waited for proofing/proofed for FORTY-EIGHT HOURS STRAIGHT (with like, a two and half hour nap) that happened beginning Friday morning and ending Sunday at 7 a.m.

See haggard-ass video blog here (The one where I finished my Sunchips, all but one crumb.):

I slept a few hours until 11? Noon? Until my family showed up for the Father’s Day celebration and it the house was overflowing with laughter and people talking over each other. It’s been great seeing Mom and Dad so happy in their new house. Tina sang songs and we all ate Joe’s bbq and my cupcakes (into which I baked SIXTEEN TABLESPOONS OF BUTTER instead of SIX. I was a little distracted.) and then Daniel, Rachel and I came back to watch the Treme finale and my sister and I cried on the couch, completely unprepared for the Katrina flashbacks.

Never thought watching people watching the storm on the news would hit the heart so hard. We were instantly catapulted back to That Day. Ugh. That was some heavy.

I slept finally, come midnight.

It’s Tuesday now and I’m still reeling. My brain chemistry is tweaked and my body is tired, dammit.

But yesterday was the longest day of the year. And everything is just getting started.

It’s really, really, really hot. And the airport is sadly lacking in bars. And when the staff at the airport tells you that there is a bar on the other side of airport security, don’t believe them. And that the snack bar chips mostly vary in flavors of hot, spicy, jalepeño and caliente.

The landscape there is minimal and bright and kind of brilliant in lots of places. The city is full of vintage signage that begs to be photographed and big, vast beautiful mountains that you’d cozy up in if you were a giant and not worried about thorns or rocks.

It’s also seemingly tight knit for such a sprawling city. There were more than 700 people at Robert’s memorial. What an amazing testament to a man who clearly had such an impact on so many people. The message that I came away with was choice. His wife Amy made a moving speech about how Robert woke up every day and make a choice about how he was going to live every day, not as a victim, but as a person who had a lot of life to live and love to give. That’s how she’s going to keep living and that’s what she invited all of us to do. She’s got the strength of a thousand armies, that woman.

I said I would do this, in my head. But I’ve said such things before. It’s a much easier thing to pay lip service to, because in reality, it’s a very difficult thing to do. I’ve tried exceptionally hard in the last few days to be positive in the face of the everyday things that gnaw at the everyday me. Whether they be negativity from unhappy people in my day-to day life, pain from this head wound or something as silly as traffic or customer service. And each time I try and center my thoughts back to that place of stillness and remember that how I react to each moment is a choice. It’s my choice.

And I’m choosing to be happy.

My friend Robert Feuille died. He lost his battle with cancer, a battle that he fought so bravely, and with so little complaint that it’s nothing short of stunning that it didn’t work.

I think, in the end, that’s what makes this so hard to process. That it happened to someone so strong, Someone so young. Someone so positive, so fearless and so good. And that it happened so fast.

But I’m grateful he’s at peace. That he went surrounded by his beautiful wife and family. And that the bounty of joy he brought to everyone who knew him will bring him such happiness in his next journey.

For all who heard his buoyant laugh — we’re lucky beyond measure.

It’s my birthday today and I have a lot to post about but right now I want to log that I’m grateful to be here. Coherent. Alive. Almost pain free.

A year ago today I was staring down the prospect of having a brain surgery to clip a wide-necked aneurysm that was nestled deep in my brain and resting against my opthalmic artery.

It’s difficult to celebrate your birthday when you’re terrified it’s going to be your last one.

But here I am!

Alive. Well. Grateful.

♡

No one expected that kind of biting OMG DIE cold wind to tear through Austin yesterday, certainly not after the gorgeous run of days we’ve had throughout the festival. But if someone had a cache of logo-embossed snuggies to hand out to folks standing in those long lines, they would have been the biggest marketing SXSW win ever.

Ainjel and I hit up the Haiti benefit Six Stages Across Texas, which was a dud. Then headed back out to South Congress to Luther’s for The Stronghold showcase to see Matt the Electrician, Tom Freund, Cici, and The Coolness. And then off to the San Jose/Jo’s stage to see Ian Moore. After that, an cancellation caused a little impromptu set with Ian, Patricia Vonne, Kyle Schneider, David Garza, this awesome fiddle player whose name I forgot (boo on me) and AE on bass. That was rad.

I tried to hit up The! Perez! Party! but that line was too RIDICULOUS and I went home instead. Following the tweets two hours later showed I would have STILL been outside waiting. F that. Overall consensus proved that to be a big fail for 90% of the people who got the RSVP and couldn’t get in.

So ends SXSW #16 for me. Long live SXSW.