Page Twenty-Four: The Homeland

The summer after my freshman year of college I headed up to our summer house like I have every year before. It was different that summer, though. For the first time in my life I was homesick and I felt like I had tasted real life and then got thrown back to pop-up-book land without any friends or cell phone service (Giant misconception, by the way. Bobcat Bucks and dorm life is not real life and 3 months without a cell phone actually does wonders for whiny little biotches like myself.)


I feel like I might be the most flexible, easily-assimilating person in the world. I don't meet too many strangers and chances are I will consider you a best friend within the first five minutes of our introduction. There are ups and downs to this, but I can't change it. I've tried.


My mom took me to the city at the end of my lonely, secluded summer to make up for my short-term depression. That's when I decided that I would spend every waking second of my sophomore year searching for an internship in New York City. I always knew I wanted to spend time here, so I googled and vault.com-ed it until my fingers fell off. I ended up with three interviews set-up for Christmas break. I knew I would work at Haute PR as soon as I met Robin. ABC didn't come until months later. I was lucky enough to get offered the job without even interviewing in person. Everything fell into place perfectly. I kept waiting for something to not work out...that kind of perfectly.



I never imagined that I would miss Texas in a place like this. How could I miss home in the center of world? I needed a new adventure and I was ready to get lost and be confused and broke and not have a mommy or daddy with a get-out-of-jail-free card. I got all of that and more.


I don't miss my parents too much. We talk all the time and I'm used to being away from them. I don't even miss my friends that much. I just miss home. I don't think I appreciated where I came from enough as I should have.


Nobody has a tattoo of Colorado or Kansas or New York, but everybody and their mother has a Texas tattoo. (Note: I'm not advocating or encouraging this. In fact, if you're considering paying respect to the homeland, for the love of God think of something a little less over-done and tacky.)


My Miss List:

1. My trusty Xterra, El Diablo.

2. Hot, summery, unbearable weather.

3. A tan.

4. Not having to wear heels and pencil skirts (Something I never thought I would say).

5. Commutes that take less than an hour.

6. Four drinks for the price of one NYC drink.

7. Jeans and boots.

8. MD20/20 with a straw.

9. The echo-spot by the library.

10. 7-11 cheese cubes and apples.

11. Mexican food.

12. The river.

13. Austin.

14. Wearing shorts.

15. 90's dance parties.

16. Pretending I know how to two-step.

17. Laughing at boys in Ed Hardy and Affliction shirts behind their backs.

18. Watching Cops.

19. Highway 35.

20. Big dogs.

21. Boys that love their big dogs and have good manners.

22. Sonic Diet Sprite with Sugar-free cherry.

23. Free Venti Un-sweetend Passion Tea when Anna's working at Starbucks.

24. The people who work the late shift at Dominoes.

25. Bringing a swim suit everywhere I go.

26. Doing push-ups in inappropriate places.

27. Nap time and playing outside.

28. Free Wi-Fi.

29. Quiet.

30. The less calm, less mature version of myself.