In an uncharacteristic move of foresight, I checked the weather forecast last night and saw that we were due for a pretty fierce rainstorm (I was actually initially clued in by a posting in my apartment’s below-ground garage warning for the risk of flooding).

In anticipation of another day of terrible rain like the one a couple of weeks ago, I armed myself with knee high boots and a trench raincoat. That means little when you are rushing on a bike without splash-guards. I arrived at work covered with splatters of mud and water. Luckily my dark denim hid most of the damage, and the spots on my top half slightly blended in with my pink and black polka-dot sweater.

Ever since I started living inside the loop, biking has been my main source of transportation. It is mostly because the cost of parking near the medical center is astronomical, but I love the convenience of combining my exercise (I know it’s not enough, I’m trying to pick a gym to join) with my commute and getting to always park right near the entrance of wherever I’m going. Beyond work, if anything I’m going to (church, dinner, an art opening, a bar) is near enough I try to bike to it.

My usual MO when approaching an event that I am unsure as to the fanciness-level of is to bike past on the other side of the street to check out the front and then circled around the block to lock up my bike somewhere out of site.

I usually have to wear pants when I ride my bike, which depressingly severely limits my party outfit choices, but I recently figured out how to work in skirts and dresses. I wear either bike shorts in the the summer or tights/leggings in the winter, and I bunch up my dress around my waist as a long shirt. It looks like I am biking around in shorts or pants. I’m usually moving too fast for anyone to get a good look at me, so the whole tights-are-not-pants issue is negligible. The trick is to then dismount somewhere out of sight of passers-bye while I pull down and adjust my skirt into an appropriate outfit. Then it’s just steeling my nerves to walk up nonchalantly to this trendy venue that I feel I don’t belong.

People in Houston usually look at me like I’m crazy when I say I get around by bike, but I read about people in other cities, most notably New York, who get around that way, even to events like fashion week. I was really struck by reading about Matilde Thomas, the creator and head of the Caudalie skin care company; She and her husband commute around NYC daily on bikes (while wearing white mind you). And I’m sure they are not concerned with the cost of parking.

photo via Garance Dore

Maybe it is the difference in weather in other places, the lack of humidity. It’s worse whenever there are puddles on the ground, but in general it’s hard to arrive somewhere by bike and not have to stop and make myself presentable in the bathroom before entering the destination. If the temperature is anywhere above 65F, I’m wiping off whatever make-up, or more likely just moisturizer, I put on in the morning along with my sweat with a paper towel whenever I dismount.

Luckily I care more about not having to look for a parking space than looking presentable. (Though finding a place to lock up my bike sometimes proves to be a challenge. The last time it was at the Museum of Fine Arts. That granite block of a building has nary a hand or guard rail to lock a U-lock to. After 5 minutes of circling, I ended up locking my bike at the bus stop bench, which I’m sure I’m not suppose to do).

This break in our drought is great for the local vegetation and I’m glad. But I am going to miss those months of biking without fear of mud.

So in the interest of developing a life outside prime time programming, also to improve my situation of living in the most uncool major city in the world, I’ve made it an effort to find out what’s happening in Houston. My inspiration was some visiting exchange students I was lucky enough to become friends with during my last years in school. Whenever you live in a place, it’s so easy to forget and put off going to the interesting stuff that’s available because you figure it will always be there. Since they were here temporally, they took every opportunity to go to museums, free concerts, movie screenings, and I was happy to tag along. I decided that instead of complaining about Houston, I would try to take advantage of every opportunity that came from living in a large metropolis.

I started by poking around the different department event listings on my university’s website. Though most of the events listed were dissertation defenses, there were some interesting seminars. My Wednesday afternoons working on homework were brightened considerably by taking a break to attend the mechanical engineering department’s visiting lecturer talks and snagging a couple of cookies and a soda. But my favorite would be to find a free movie screening (Heads up! There is a festival of Spanish Cinema this weekend at the Rice Media Center).

Branching out beyond school, I first tried to suss out events on Facebook, but I found my most valuable resource in the awesome CultureMap site. I recently picked up a local paper, Free Press Houston, who did a ‘Worst of Houston’ in retaliation to Houston Press’ Best of Houston. I have yet to finish it all, but I was saddened to see them giving a ‘worst website” to my beloved CultureMap on the grounds that it was trying to make Houston into Dallas, more country club and old money. I have no problem with it promoting the businesses in River Oaks, especially as they tell me how it go to their events for free. It also lists concerts and art events, so I don’t know what they are complaining about.

There are several ‘what to do’ sites in Houston, but CultureMap stands out for its layout. Every event is organized by day and time. You click on one and it breaks down the details by what, when, where (even marks the location on a little map), and whether there is any cost to attend. What makes most convenient is that you can click ‘Add to Calendar’ and it blocks out the event on your Google, iCalendar, Outlook calendar automatically!

I wish I could find something to do every day of the week, but what usually happens is that gallery openings or any cool parties are all on Thursday or Friday. I end up organizing a route to try to hit a least 3 in an evening. I’ve grabbed a glass of wine and taken a cursory glance at an art exhibit on the way to my evening language class. Another time I made a whole meal of hors d’oeuvres at a ritzy store’s fashion show. I’d like to think I’m trying to be in the know, but two years out of school I just still have the college student’s radar for free food and booze.

Yesterday was the premier of the third season of White Collar. I didn’t get home in time, but even if I had I might have still just left it for the DVR; I still need to watch the second season. I was surprised to be so interested in one of the many generic crime series from the USA network, but I like the show, mostly for the sharply dressed, beautiful Matthew Bomer, (who I thought was pretty objectively attractive, but who my sister calls “crazy eyes”).

 Really, how can you hate on him in that tie?

Even though I like the series, I’m still not sure if I will catch up with it because I’m constantly apprehensive about getting too invested in TV shows. Every time I like a series too much I devote way too much mental energy to it, perhaps trying to fill the voids in my own social life. Developing crushes on the male characters, empathizing with the females, I become totally immersed in the world of the show. If it’s currently on the air, I’m expectantly awaiting that special day of the week when it comes on. In the remaining days, I’m reading pithy episode recaps online and stalking character discussion message boards.

This most recently happened with the first season of Glee. I was still in school and was able to spend long periods on the computer, supposedly doing homework. It was the combination of endearingly outcast characters and the joyful energy of most of their song numbers (remember the first mash up contest while they were high on decongestant? The manic energy of Walking on Sunshine and the unbelievable hotness of the boys doing Bon Jovi?). The intensity of my devotion to that show freaked even me out.

After the first season, I decided I couldn’t trust myself to just enjoy the story in a relaxed manner, and I stopped following it. Since then I caught a couple of episodes and enjoyed them immensely (the Rocky Horror Halloween one!), but without knowing the story arc of the characters, I am able to avoid seeing it as anything more than an entertaining hour. (For good reason too. I was head over heels enough with Jessie St. James; Blaine would be even more dangerous for that red and blue blazer I saw a couple of times).

A current series is bad enough, but it’s even worse if it’s older and whole seasons are available on Netflix or Hulu. Then I don’t have the weekly programing to discipline my intake. I just watch and watch and watch, “One more! What happens next?!” and soon it’s 1am on a school night. You would think it would be worse with 40 minute dramas, but it’s actually the 22 minute comedies that really do me in. “What’s 20 more minutes? I can watch one more” and then it’s 3am. (This recently happened when I was catching up with Parks and Recreation).

One series that I’ve been able to keep up with for years without trouble is Gossip Girl. The relationship started even earlier when I started reading the books in high school. I like both iterations for the same reason; it’s pretty, privileged people dressed up in designer clothing, living in the city I’ve idolized since I was told by my World Geography teacher that it could be considered the primate city of the world (the leading city in its country or region, which dominates the country not solely in size but also in terms of influence).

The plot itself is OK, but as no relationship or even character trait lasts more than 4 episodes, you really can’t really get invested in anyone (I realize that’s what some critics could say about Glee, but maybe because they were at public school, I felt it to be more relatable). I watch it for the clothes and the NYC hot spots they frequent; it’s essentially my favorite fashion/lifestyle magazines come to life. I care just enough to remember to watch it every week while it’s on, but don’t really feel a void when they go on hiatus. It’s a perfect balance.

The unfortunate thing is that because Gossip Girl is so mediocre I can have this ambivalent affection towards it. With any actual quality program I’m hesitant to start watching and end up dropping back down the rabbit hole. I’ve heard from so many different friends, acquaintances, websites about how good Downtown Abbey is. It appears to be an extension of the world of one of my favorite movies, Gosford Park. Season 1 is lurking on my Netflix suggestions since I watched Sherlock (another awesome series, fortunately-unfortunately-fortunately there are only 3 episodes available so my binge was over in just a weekend). I want to dip my toe in and start watching, the question is can I handle it?

Yesterday was Martin Luther King Day, and as I work at a partly academic institution, I was lucky enough to get the day off. Ah, three day weekends. They possess a special magic that I think is almost better than having a whole week off just for how disproportionally better they make you feel for getting only one day vacation.

The week preceding you feel excited, anticipating the break. The weekend itself is three glorious days. Then the following week is short, so it is then even quicker until the next weekend. A short week is just makes every day seem better than usual. You get through Tuesday, which feels like Monday, but then you are already on Wednesday, and only two more days from there.

I always admired people who could work on Friday afternoons, Saturday mornings, and leave their Sundays free. By 2pm Friday afternoon I have already mentally checked out, thinking any work ahead I have two more days to work on it. But then of course this is me, who always leaves everything for the last minute, so then Sunday is an anxiety ridden scramble. But if you do not have any deadline hanging over your head, there a bit of magic calm in Sundays. I have only experienced it on long weekends.

A normal Saturday is always great since you know you have a whole day’s buffer before you return to your responsibilities. It is also full of fun activities: swim meets when I was a kid, meetings of any extracurricular organizations, field trips. Now days Saturday involves plans to go shopping, visit a local brewery, meet up with friends. It’s an active whirlwind of fun that is almost draining.

By comparision, Sunday to me always seem quieter, more individual. Maybe because everyone is off on their own dealing with gearing up for the week. You don’t really make activity plans with friends; you end up staying home with family.  For us, meals would be a late breakfast and then a relatively early dinner that usually involved minimal preparation, a fritatta with whatever vegetables were left from the week or grilling steaks if the weather permitted. Finally we would wind down the evening with watching whichever series we were following at the time. When I was in high school I think it was Grey’s Anatomy. When I was in college it was usually one of the terrible and terribly entertaining dating/reality shows on VH1 (luckily as a room we were all up for watching that ridiculousness as a study break). Now when I’m at my parent’s house they watch Desperate Housewives. My dad is the one who more intent about not missing it, which cracks me up.

When I was still an undergrad, I would sometimes who meet up for Sunday lunch with a group of graduate students. I was always impressed with their relaxed demeanors. I guess by the time you are a PhD candidate, you have had to develop good time management habits. They would always go for coffee after lunch, whiling the way the hours talking and joking, making a single coffee last 3 hours as Europeans can. I would join them for a bit, but an unfinished lab report or problem set would be bothering me in the back of my mind, and I would leave after about an hour.

Now that I’m working I don’t have homework, but I still have to finish the little things that on Friday afternoon I decided Future Me would deal with. As with most difficult  things, the discomfort of disciplining yourself is always worth it by the peace of it mind it gives you later. I’ve gotten though a quarter of my life without mastering this skill; the goal is to develop the maturity to do so. Hopefully soon.

I see shopping as an extremely enjoyable hobby. For one summer I worked at Loehman’s (a kind of Ross/TJ Maxx but with more eclectic and European designers, some of my most off-beat clothes are from there. I love it) and I really hoped that the daily exposure might temper my interest in clothes as it’s a pretty expensive hobby (and rather frivolous in my mind. Of course that does not stop me in the least). The summer previous I worked at Chipotle, and I was able to eat a free burrito every shift for lunch. Before that, Chipotle was our weekly Friday excursion with my freshman year roommates, one that I eagerly looked forward to after a week of servery food. After working there, I still occasionally eat burritos, but I have never craved them since. Unfortunately, the same did not happen at Loehmann’s. The only result was that I’m now embarrassed to go back there and be waited on by my old co-workers (a personal neurosis that does not make sense, but that also stops me from going to the Chipotle where I used to work as well). So now I can’t shop at one of my favorite stores, but I still love shopping (though supposedly there is Loehmann’s online now, I still have to check it out).

As any habitual shopper knows there is nothing worse than not having a wardrobe vacancy to be on the lookout to fill. Ever since I started earning my own pocket money with various part-time jobs, my first move was to invest in quality, classic footwear (all leather of course). So it was first brown knee-high flat boots, then brown knee-high boots with a reasonable heel. Then repeat the process in black. Then black and brown pumps. Then black and brown flats.

Now this process stretched over several years, but I started to reach the point where I had a version of almost every classic wardrobe staple.  Back then I also mainly bought black, brown and navy clothes trying to be timelessly chic (I once opened my suitcase on a trip, and it contained essentially the color pallet of a bruise). I quickly was able to make a wardrobe of basics that would cover work/weekends/church, my weekly cycle. And I could wear those clothes and look presentable easily. Probably a higher minded person would take this opportunity to stop thinking about external appearances and concentrate on her studies and work. But I hated it; it was so boring.

So I made the switch to embracing color. I keep one of my favorite recent purchases, a multi-colored overcoat with a pixelated flower pattern, hanging from the post of my bed because it makes me so happy (full disclosure, I have also ran out of hangers in my closet). I love color in my home, and I love color on my body as it’s a way to take the mood brightening effects of fuchsia whereever I go.

So for the moment, I’m wearing bright colors and trying to minimize my wardrobe without limiting my pattern mixing opportunities. The plan is to save money for an upcoming trip, so I’m supposed to stop shopping until the next round of ridiculous sales in the summer (having Zara’s winter sales online this year was so dangerous, but can you regret a pair of $19 high waisted jeans?) But I just saw the Jason Wu for Target look book. I almost want it to sell out immediately just so I can’t have to option to buy it.

I’m a 20-something trying to figure out my life living in Houston, Texas. Ruminating about the world and our (and more directly my) place in it takes up a lot of my mental space and energy. I decided to write down my thoughts in the attempt to 1) flesh them out with greater consideration, and 2) share them with my friends in a less exhausting way then them having to sit through my thoughts and ramblings.

The title, ‘savoir faire, savoir vivre’, for you non-French speakers (of which I am included) literally translates to “knowing how to act, knowing how to live”. The better meaning might be “tact and etiquette”. I first heard the expression “savoir vivre” from the title of a tongue-in-cheek etiquette book for artists; apparently it’s used as synonym for etiquette in languages beyond French. While anyone who knows me would laugh at the idea of etiquette and I being in the same sentence, as I’m usually sticking my foot in my mouth right and left, one of my greatest desires is to live a well-lived life, and the hope is that I’m moving in that direction with each awkward stumble.

Of course, all my ideas are not that lofty. I’m a fashion enthusiast as a form of artistic and self expression. And I identify a little too much with movie and TV series characters as a means of escape from everyday reality.

That all being said; we’ll see where it goes from here.