Bull By the Horns

Did you ever want to be a natural at something pointless? Like, bongos, or opening bottles with random household objects? Last weekend, I found myself at a bar with a mechanical bull and was surprised to find that I cared about that. Some part of me saw that metal bull and decided I wanted to win at bull riding, I wanted to go on the dive-bar bull riding circuit, I wanted to be the Tri-State Mechanical Bull Rodeo Queen.

So I held on.

And held on.

And held on.

I won’t be able to wear a miniskirt again this fiscal year.

Worth it.

Mobile Manners Giveaway Winner

The Mobile Manners Giveaway winner is Kendra Portnova who said, “My pet peeve is when I’m trying to have a convo with my husband and I’m interrupted with a text (on his phone) and he sits there halfway listening to me… then gets a phone call (out in public) a proceeds to use his megaphone voice to talk! I have to tell him to lower his voice, because I know it’s annoying to everyone! Even me!”

Take that, Kendra’s husband! Let it be a consolation that your megaphone voice won your wife a sweet gift bag. Thanks to everyone for entering and sharing your peeves. Kendra, look for an email from me in your inbox.

Soundtrack Friday

Hello, team. I’m in Nashville this weekend with a group of very fine girlfriends and many bottles of wine. These are my latest picks from your suggestions for our sobbing/dancing mix. You guys are good at this.

Cry Into Your Beer


Woke Up New from The Mountain Goats


They Won’t Go When I Go from Stevie Wonder


Plane from Jason Mraz


Smile from Nat King Cole

Shake It ‘Til You Break It


Americanarama from Hollerado


Something Good Can Work from Two Door Cinema Club


Seven Nation Army by the White Stripes


Just a Little Bit from Kids of 88

Mobile Manners Giveaway

While we were at SxSW, Laura and I threw a Mobile Manners brunch with Intel. We gathered a group of very smart women to eat quiche and text one other about the irritating things people do with their gadgets.

Genevieve Bell, an Intel Fellow who studies how different cultures use technology, presented some of their mobile etiquette research.

During Genevieve’s presentation, I tweeted while she was talking (event hashtag, FTW), checked in to Foursquare, and texted with a person sitting two tables away from me. Afterward, I drove around town looking for a funeral parlor, because I’ve heard those are nice quiet places to make phone calls.

Everyone else was the picture of civility, even when the gift bags came out.

Now that’s some good home training.

The bags were a team effort amongst attendees, and as always we saved one for you. Maile brought her gorgeous Epiphanie Bags, and I set aside the Clover Laptop and Camera Bag in grey, which is the one I carry. Everywhere. And sometimes I spoon with it. It looks like this:

Elizabeth works for Twitter, but also has a letterpress business called Paperwheel Press. She brought everyone a couple of geeky letterpress thank you notes:

And finally, Intel threw in a copy of Emily Post’s Great Get Togethers:

To win, please leave your pinky out when you sip your tea, and leave your most profound mobile etiquette peeve in comments.

Please only enter once; I’ll leave comments open until Monday when I’ll announce the winner. I hope it’s you.

I Can’t Sleep Because My Bed’s on Fire

It was SxSW, so we went out to some parties. Then when we got home, we had some wine. Then we had some more. Then we went to bed.

At 4 a.m., an ear-splitting fire alarm was not quite enough to rouse us. We incorporated it into our firehouse dreams. Then the second one went off. We were on the fifth floor, so naturally we took time to get dressed, gather our laptops and cameras, and chat about whether we should bother to leave the room. Then I looked out the window.

Fire trucks. Yay.

In the hall, there were about twenty people heading in the opposite direction of the exit signs.

“Where are you guys going?”
“Elevators.”
“Oh.”

Stupids. We took the stairs. We passed an attractive and placid firefighter on the way down and considered following him back up, but it seemed arduous.

The fire trucks were still there when we got downstairs, and the alarms were still going off. There were about five people in the parking lot.

“There’s no one out here.”
“Why?”
“People are stupid.”
“Yes.”

We sat down on the curb for a while. We got up.

“I’m putting this picture on the Internet.”
“I hate you.”
“You love me.”
“OK.”

After our photo op, Helen Jane took a moment to weep with exhaustion. Anna Beth and I decided to go for shakes until the alarms stopped. Helen Jane thought she could sleep through the shrieking, and presumably the immolation. So we parted ways.

We headed to a local cafe, where we were the only patrons aside from two musicians and a truck driver who commented that we looked real pretty. Thanks, truck driver.

They didn’t have milkshakes.

In the end, there was no fire, just standing water in the basement that was triggering the alarm for some reason.

When we got back to the room, we drew a sharpie mustache on Helen Jane. She was a good sport about it.