by Paola Capó-García
As 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.
(READ MORE AT REMEZCLA.COM by clicking on the above image on this blog entry)
The above excerpt is part of SXSW coverage at Remezcla.com, who're covering the event and sharing with us :)