I can officially report that car wrecks are no fun. In fact, they're quite terrifying, especially when you're in the modest sedan crushed between two Texas-sized SUVs. Fortunately, it wasn't my fault (the girl who hit me tearfully confessed that she hadn't been paying any attention to the road), so it won't be a financial burden or take a toll on my extra guilt-prone conscience. I'm still without a car for now, though, and have plenty more hours to log on the phone with my insurance company before this mess is sorted out.
Initially, I thought I was physically fine save for a few scratches from broken glass, but learned the hard way that it's normal to experience effects of a crash hours, even days, later. I started feeling sore that evening, but was able to mostly ignore it due to the heavenly nature of the meal: good friends, a Veggie Royale with chipotle pesto, champagne with lavender syrup, and Radiohead sharing an appetizer at the table next to us. However, the muscular revolt kept on charging, and by the time I woke up in the middle of the night crying because every inch of me hurt, I figured medical attention was overdue. I've been on prescription pain killers for about 24 hours now and can happily classify my condition as manageable, though I'm still achy all over and anything that requires me to lift my arms too high or move my neck at all is pretty bad news. Baby steps!
So yeah, this whole story of the accident has very little to do with the following pictures except for the fact that I'm excited about South by Southwest rolling into town and bringing in some faces I don't see nearly often enough around these parts. According to the timeline my doctor gave me, I should be feeling fine by the time best friends, free live music, and day-drinking are in season.
One of the acts playing this year is Blouse, who I've been hoping for the chance to see ever since Caroline introduced me to them sometime last year and the incessant fawning over their supercoolness began. Blouses are the best clothing item category, so it stands to reason that a band who decided to call themselves Blouse would have other great ideas, too! There happen to be a lot of photos of the band or featuring their lovely singer, Charlie Hilton, that have caught my eye, so I figured I'd share a few here as a reminder of better times to come.
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| by Amanda Smith |
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| by Miranda Lehman |
Don't you just want to roll around floors and/or beds in your finest thrifted scores right now, smelling flowers and mussing up your hair in the process? Because I totally do.
It took me a while to come up with a New Year's resolution (probably because I've never made one), but I'm gonna go ahead and mark 2012 down as THE YEAR OF LIVING DREAMILY, and I'm just fashionably late to the party.
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