< class="posttitle">Back in the Lone Star State
Posted by: Steven Perez in personal log, tags: buh bye, moving, san marcos, texas
The first change I noticed when I left New Mexico was the sky. It was too far away. The second change I noticed was the air. Or rather, how I choked on the humidity in the air.
I’ve lived in Texas, off and on, for at least half of my life. I’ve lived in any variable climate I can think of, and I’ve never thought of myself as being bonded to any on situation. But the combination of two years in Southern California, another 18 months in New Mexico and a year in Baja California have taken their toll on my aged bones: I am now a desert creature. Give me 20% humidity year-round, and I’m a happy camper. Where others cry out for moisture, I laugh and demand more sun.
And then I returned to the one place on earth I swore I would never return – Central Texas.
What kind of fool moves in the oppressive heat and humidity of the summer in Central Texas? What cretin returns to the one place on earth that defeaned his left ear and gave him cedar allergies, possibly for the rest of his life? What imbecile leaves a city where everything is a stone’s throw from his house and the grocery store is a bike ride away, to go to a place where the grocery store is akin to a ride to Grandma’s house and oh look there’s the Big Bad Wolf? What moron leaves the city he’s always dreamed of living in one more time to return to the one place he can’t stand?
Me.
Why? Because I couldn’t stay where I was.
I’ve often mentioned the last relationship I leapt into, and the deleterious effect that such had on my life. What I’ve never mentioned was how the end of said relationship poisoned every last bit of the city I loved. No matter where I went in Albuquerque, the memory of Rebecca followed, often in the form of a wish that she could see what I was seeing at that moment. We were two people moving in different directions, but the aftereffect she had on my view of the city was still the same. I could no longer see Albuquerque without seeing her shadow.
So, I left. Back to my own personal Purgatory.
In the few days I’ve been here, I’ve met quite a few old faces, people I’ve been happy to see. And I’ve run across quite a few people and places that set my teeth on edge and wonder just what made me consider returning. (Seriously, Hill Country. Someone needs to sit you all down and explain to you why the strip mall is NOT the pinnacle of modern architecture. Did you really need to chop down those beautfiul oaks just to put up another Walmart and Starbucks?) Still, it’s good to be back in a familiar setting, even as I am reminded of the old adage: “Familiarity breeds comtempt.”
For this fourth time around, I find myself in San Marcos, which shares more than a few similarities to my old stomping grounds in Albuquerque: small college town, nice locale, just the right size, etc., as well as being close enough to Austin that I can commute back and forth to whatever gainful employment I find.
Hopefully, the fourth time is the charm.
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