Damn, it feels good to be hipster

Hipster [hip-ster] noun, Slang. "Hipsters are a subculture of men and women typically in their 20's and 30's that value independent thinking, counter-culture, progressive politics, an appreciation of art and indie-rock, creativity, intelligence, and witty banter."

I like to write. Duh. And I don't think I'm too horrible at it. So last month while on a double date at Anchor and Hope, my one and only hipster friend Casey asked if I'd be interested in participating in the Write Club series. For those of you unfamiliar with Write Club, their tagline says it all: "Literature as bloodsport. Prize money to charity." Essentially you are assigned one of two conflicting topics (i.e. left vs. right; up vs. down; dark vs. light). Each author writes on their assigned topic and the audience decides whose piece they liked better (it usually comes down to a battle of wit). The winner gets to donate a portion of the nights cover charge to a charity of their choosing.

I've never actually written anything and physically read it out loud so I was a little weary. But despite my hesitation, it only took a few "you'll do fine's" and "it's no big deals" in combination with copious amounts of wine to convince me to participate.

What I have yet to mention is that Write Club commences in San Francisco's Mission District. A little unsettling for a Marina girl who sticks out like a sore thumb amongst hipsters and pick-pockets. Shudder!

I tried to get pumped for the competition by telling myself that if those hipster elitists don't like my style, then they can go screw themselves. But I soon found out that my actual fears stemmed from the potential reaction of the crowd. A mob of hipsters is fairly unpredictable. My guess was that after my reading they would either shower me with tomatoes (certified organic, of course), or my words would resonate with a blessed patron in the crowd who would begin a single, slow clap growing into a monstrous uproar of applause. Either that or they would just snap at me.

Many of my best ideas occur to me while laying down, either in bed or when I wake up from a restless night's sleep. My idea to harness my inner hipster before entering the the writing competition was no exception. I started writing this post at 1:09 am. Good. Already on hipster-time. But instead of sitting in bed, I wished I was at a local cafe, using their free wifi and sipping a skim latte. Shit. Bad start.

To my surprise I found myself euphorically lost on my hipster journey. To start, I purchased a pair of thick framed Zooey Duchschanel-esque glasses. Who doesn't like Zooey Duchschanel?! Automatically I've got that going for me. Additionally I already had an array of patterned clothing that I could mix and match with tights or leggings, my black Toms and a mustard yellow Urban Outfitters cardigan. As it is, I'd always wanted to try color blocking.

I reach for my iPhone for inspiration to start writing my piece (I've been assigned "fast" to my opponent's "feast"). The only music I have on my phone that can be moderately considered hipster is "Pumped Up Kicks" by Foster the People. This is good enough for me. Repeat. I love the whistling part.

I had two weeks to prepare for the competition and in true Carrie fashion, procrastinated until the night before. For lack of better words, my piece sucked. I was starting to get nervous.

I arrived early to The Make Out Room (clever hipsters) and was immediately informed that I would be up against Casey's co-Write Club founder: a guy who not only looks, but writes, like Zach Galifianakis. Thanks for the pairing, Casey.

As suspected, by piece blew. Zach kicked my ass. But he was really good so I couldn't wallow in my loss for very long. And the hipsters did laugh at a few of my anecdotes, especially the part about being elbow deep in a bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos. Hipsters apparently love Flaming Hot Cheetos. Who knew?! There were no hipster mishaps, no tomatoes, and no snaps. Nothing but encouraging applause. Also, I didn't get pick-pocketed. WIN.

Participating in Write Club was a fun experience. It challenged me to step out of my writing comfort zone and do something different. I highly recommend you check out their website and not only attend a show but to be a part of it, whether you're a seasoned writer or a lone blogger like myself.

Being a hipster was a lot of fun. I still rock my Zooey glasses, listen to Foster the People, and color block. And why shouldn't I continue to enjoy it? Am I not in my 20's - 30's and someone who values independent thinking, counter-culture, progressive politics, an appreciation of art and indie-rock, creativity, intelligence, and witty banter? My friend Justin has pegged the phrase "preppy hipster" in his efforts to categorize me. And I'm not gonna lie... I kinda like it.