I can’t wait to go back to Texas! <—-Words this Cali girl never thought she’d say.
Seriously. Growing up in California is like being raised in North Korea. We are taught that California is the BEST state. People born in other states are, well, unfortunate and sad. California is the most visited state in the union. Our economy is 4th in the word.
In. The. World.
When a Californian ventures out to other areas of the country, we never plan to find anywhere close to being as cool as us.
This was my mindset. During the 90’s and early 2,000’s in San Francisco there was a HUGE insurgence of east coasters flocking to the west. The only reasonable explanation for this mass migration was clear. We rule.
In my mind and heart, there was not a single state that could hold a candle to Cali.
Then I went to Chicago. In a lot of ways it reminded me of home. It was fall so the weather was good, but it wasn’t the “fly-over” state I assumed it would be. There was culture and shopping and a large body of water. I was impressed.
Chicago was okay in my book…until I went to New York.
NYC is like San Francisco on crack. Constant movement. Places to go. Food to eat. People to watch. Warm, muggy, dirty rain and trash filled streets. Broadway musicals, midnight pizza. New York was my soul mate.
Me, a california girl in love with New York city. What the fuck.
To date, NYC is still one of my top vacays ever.
Until fate brought me to Texas. Mother fucking Texas.
Flat land as far as the eye can see.
Good meat. Better Tequila. Really nice people.
It’s hot as hell. Not figuratively. Like literally.
Texas kind of rocks. It isn’t the night life or the food, or Bucee’s beaver nuggets.
It’s the people.
Texas people, the ones I’ve met, kind of rock.
They can drink, and sing. They have crazy accents and no appreciation for coconut milk, honey, or goat cheese. But I like them. Or as a Texan would say:
I appreciate you.
So, Texas; here I come.