Dallas

Last weekend we roadtripped to Dallas for a wedding (mostly an excuse for play time).  It was a welcome reprieve from Houston, and I have to say,  I’m now pretty fond of the Dallas / Fort Worth area.

Fancy French Toast, pool play, and the first snow cone of the season reminded me that there is summer life outside of work.

And I must say that I'm quite the spoiled thing.

There I was, thinking we were going to use our Saturday afternoon to tour Cowboy stadium (a great thing to do)....but my friends surprised me by taking me to the Kimbell Art Museum.

I was astounded at the quality of the art museums here in Texas. I was privileged to see some of the greats 

Rembrandt, Velasquez, Poussin, titian, Caravaggio, El Greco, Matisse, Braque, Picasso, Monet, Manet, Delacroix, Caliebott, Cezanne, Van Gosh, Jacques Lois David, LeBrun, Watteau, Chardin....

Like a child in a confections shop, I was.  

 

They were wonderfully patient. What other 23-year-old men would willingly submit to an afternoon full of paintings and a little blonde freaking out as if on crack and chattering a million miles a minute about the "pyramidal composition utilized in this Venetian style painting by Titan, a structure that started during the Renaissance..." etc etc etc.

 What a blessed girl am I.

Big girl panties.

the realization alighted unhurriedly. gently, so as not to startle the childhood ignorance that had been nested comfortably for so many years. a series of small acceptances, a head-nod of acknowledgment here and there and then there.

I moved out for college. Out but not away, really. An hour or so was enough distance but not too much. I had to cook for myself for the first time and, heavens above, do my own laundry. I'd call mom for more quinoa and grocery money and when one of us forgot to pay my rent on her card by the 15th.

and so my freshman year I ruined pots and burned holes in the floor and exploded microwaves. My roommates and I would have a good laugh and I happily accepted my lack of domesticity.  The pinky of that heavy word -- adult -- rested on my shoulder as I memorized my social security number and signed my own forms and learned that I actually can't go out for sushi every week.

then I took a big breath of mountain Utah air and moved to Texas to do a daunting job I had no background in or training for. I felt the adult weight swell with the responsibility for success in an arena far outside my comfort zone.

now I pay rent that's too steep and use stain remover and never buy the name brand at the Kroger down the street.  Sometimes it takes all my willpower to bite my tongue and smile at a hostile coworker.  Sometimes I hate working and hate my job and just want to sit down and cry.

It came to a crescendo halfway through the paperwork at the urgent care. I can't pay this.  My pen hovered above the insurance provider line, embarrassed.  I can't afford the co-pay. Or the antibiotics the doctor is going to prescribe. I can't afford them. And so out I walked.

I've learned to put on my big girl panties and.....deal with it.
To deal when adult presses unyieldingly.

bad things happen to good people and you don't always get what you want and that's just that and life. goes. on.

and all things considered......I'm pretty damn lucky.

life is normal.

I realized how normal my life here has become.

It's no longer a novelty or new thing. It's just....life. My life now. As if nothing really existed before.

This week was mostly......

::Mom's response to this 

::storm after storm

::learning that even though disposable razors are cheaper than 3 dang razor refills, it doesn't necessarily make them the better investment.  I'm learning that life is expensive. I don't like that part.

:: getting my hair done!!! (And yes. Every time I do my hair it deserves to make it into a post. It's that big of a deal in my life. 4 INCHES OFF. Big event.)

In other news, I made it into the Guinness Book of World Records for longest grocery receipt. 

#fatkidproblems. But whatever.

I can't believe I've lived in Texas almost two whole months.  Two to go! Hope everyone's summer is as wonderful as mine (with a big more free time). Xoxo

sculpture garden

unparalleled.

.....

the torrent of a Texan downpour.

......

movies against the Houston skyline.

......

treading downtown, lightly,

as to not disturb the normal way of things.

you're callow and he's anti-urban,

and the two of you are foreigners here.

but that's quite alright.

hootenanny cakes.

that's what my Webster family calls them.

German pancakes. 

that's what Chef Cowboy calls them.

call them what you like;

they are delicious in the guiltiest of ways.

here's to lazy Sunday mornings

and men that cook.

I live for Saturday nights after 6.

the only night a week out of six that we get off before 9:00.

dinner with friends helps to push back impending insanity.

another week down!