Mean Eyed Cat

Living in Austin has been such an interesting experience. At first glance, it's like every other city I've ever lived in, but there are those moments where I realize that I'm in such a bizarre city. A perfect example of this was about a week and a half ago. After meeting for coffee with a friend for the sake of company--fighting loneliness-- I reached the conclusion that I wasn't ready to go home just quite yet. As I drove home on a rainy midweek evening, doing everything imaginable to delay my arrival at home, I made the somewhat spontaneous to go to a bar instead. This was around 10:00 pm. Taking the exit ramp into the downtown area, I skimmed through the viable options. These were places that I had frequented all to frequently pretty indiscriminately under the drunken Friday and Saturday haze, but somehow they just wouldn't do. I drove westward until I hit the the railroad tracks and found the Mean Eyed Cat, a shack of a bar that doubles as a shrine to Johnny Cash. Knowing Cash's tendency towards introspection, it seemed like a perfect place to ponder.

I've been meaning to pay the Mean Eyed Cat another visit, but haven't found the time to do so. Places like the Mean Eyed Cat make it easier for me to live in Austin. At the same time, though, my infatuation with this city is based solely on its idiosyncrasies and these have a tendency to be nothing but superficialities.  With that said, would I feel just as comfortable elsewhere? And is Austin just a transitory place for something else? Quite frankly, this thought has crossed my mind. It's not very surprising that this train of thought presents itself close to the one year mark since I graduated from college. Much can happen in one year, and as much as it pains me to admit it, nothing really has transpired in that time. So here's the real issue: would I be better elsewhere? It's very likely that such might be the case. After all, as much as I love it here, I don't particularly have any real roots here that would make it impossible to leave. 

I think the next month or so will be very crucial. I am making more than a concerted effort to see whether this is the place that I belong to, but if not I'll just pick up and move on.

There was something in the air that night, the stars were bright...

Yup, I admit it. I am an ABBA fan. It's not even one of those "oh i love ABBA, but in a sarcastic/ironic way". Nope, I definitely genuinely really like ABBA. Normally I would be worried about what that said about me, but not with this band, man. As it stands I can't think of many songs that bring me as much joy and happiness as 'Dancing Queen' and 'Fernando'. Those two songs in particular are like an aural sugar coma. After listening to them, I'm left with a feeling of tingling that is very reminiscent of consuming a high amount of sucrose. Interestingly enough, my love for ABBA doesn't mean I listen to them with much frequency. It's one of those things that on a random night, I'll feel compelled to do. Today's been one of those days. It probably has something to do with the fact that their drummer recently died on a kind of a freak accident. Also Frida and Agnetha singing just makes me tingly down there. Word.