Here is the deal with me and Texas…I have been wandering away from it since I was eleven. That was the year I started doing CISV, an international children’s camp. I left for Portugal with AFS as a high school junior. I hopped an international flight to get to my college. After Switzerland there was Boston. My wanderlust knows no bounds.
I returned to Texas, for health / need familial support issues, in 2007. I lived in Dallas, Houston, Dallas. I felt a love hate thing with Houston. Loving people, hating the weather and scenery. Dallas was pretty much the same, but with a layer of nostalgia with it being my home town. This move to Seattle has been such a breath of fresh air. A breath that we aren’t ready to exhale. I don’t know if we will leave when David’s project is over. We would have never chosen this city before ending up here, but we totally dig it.
Today I head home. The trip will be just long enough to make me feel guilty for not spending enough time with everyone. I am dreading the summer weather. I miss my people, of course, but that’s it. And yet…
When I am away from Texas I have so much pride you can’t even look at me. That’s how shiny with home-state pride I get. The other day I ran into the other room to tell David how sad I would be if our kids didn’t say ya’ll, or coke (for ALL sodas), or have an accent that makes appearances when tired or drunk. I feel a little panic at the thought of severing ties.
Luckily, we have a grace period to decide what to do with ourselves… but it is on my mind, since I fly home tomorrow. Excited for the love and the fun. And the margaritas. Better yet, a Mambo Taxi!
Photos from the Rue Texas Issue