This post was written by Friday blogger Annie Reid.
There’s an apocryphal story in Austin that the person who designed the exit and entrance ramps for the interstate that bisects the city committed suicide, in despair over what they had wrought. Before they fixed it, you had to get up to seventy miles per hour in about twenty feet or those eighteen wheelers had you burning rubber up the slanted shoulder and into the cement walls faster than you could say howdy.
That’s kind of what my visit to Austin was like. You either have to burn you some rubber, or get out of the damn way.
I sure do love Texas. Where it’s either cowboys or drag queens that wear high-heeled pointy boots and purty hats. Where the highways, like some of my favorite people, are fast and wide. Where not once in eight years did I see people of the same gender touching each other publicly.
Love the food (Meat! Oil! Beans!), love the drinks (Limey! Icey! Doubles!), love the porches in that summer heat (Stifling! Apocalyptic!). And god, I miss my friends there. But the heat and the politics made me wilt like a daisy, even in April. It’s nice to be home.
To complain about my portrayal of Texas, drop me a line at annie @ maud newton dot com.