I've been in this Texas town now for about a week. I know my way around, I've done some exploring. Some things are still in boxes and others are right at home on shelves and in drawers. I've located iced coffee and thrift stores and Indian food. I'd been telling people for so long that this is where I was going and all of a sudden, I'm actually here. It still seems a bit surreal to say, I live in Houston, but mostly because now it feels really true.
This place has a few things in common with Oakland, California. Abundant Mexican food, for one. Perhaps more obviously, it's really different. It's harder to settle in here on a budget, I'm finding. There's nowhere to mine for salvaged hardware or cool but shabby furniture. No produce market to write home about. No amazing soccer pub around the corner from my house. I know, these things will take some time to unearth. For now, I'm fairly content with the light that comes into this little apartment around 6 o'clock in the afternoon. Certainly, no substitute for the particularly handsome boy I sent back to California on Tuesday morning, but I find it such a comfort.
More soon! Promise.