by Paola Capó-GarcíaAs I sit here at the Dallas airport, with a blurred stamp on my wrist, a bevy of mangled neon wristbands, residue red lipstick from last night, and the unmistakable three-day stench of South by Southwest, I realize…I’m old. My body is weak. My feet are broken.
My spirit wounded. BUT! I expected this and welcomed it with open arms. I now know what going to SXSW as a correspondent is like. You win some, you lose some. You don’t eat much, you sleep never, and you get to know a lot of randos. And that’s what I leave Austin with: relationships. I met some of the nicest people while at SXSW, most of them cab drivers. You see, I live in a mean place called New·York·City. Where people don’t like to make contact with one other. Ever. And they scowl. A lot.
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The above excerpt is part of SXSW coverage at Remezcla.com, who're covering the event and sharing with us :)
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