Everything's Bigger in Texas

Well, I've been silent on the blogging for some time, but since I'll be away from home for a while, I figured I'd start it back up.

This past summer, I decided I wasn't living life "on the edge" enough, so within a ten-day time period, I bought my first car, graduated from BYU (a two-day affair), drove 22+ hours to an entirely new state (and almost country), and started graduate school at the University of Texas at Austin.  Oh.  And within 14 days, I had caused $1400 worth of damage to an otherwise steal-of-a-deal car.

I rather like it here.  I didn't really have many expectations, other than the oft-repeated statement of pride, "Everything's Bigger in Texas," so I was pleasantly surprised.

First, everything is bigger in Texas.  I ordered a glass of water at a local Tex-Mex  restaurant ("it's authentic," Alyse's family said—which begs to question the authenticity of a food type that contains the state it's cooked in and the country from which it is influenced in its title), and it really was bigger.  You can see the straw barely poking up over the top on the back side:  I only needed refills once instead of the usual 6 or 7 times.  I'm glad I'm not in Germany.

I also like the openness of Austin.  Since Alyse served a mission here a few months ago, she drove down with me and stayed with her family.  Taking her home after we'd finished our day's festivities, we drove through the countryside.  I would have parked my car, got out and enjoyed the full moon and big farms (or at least rolled down my window to take in the smells) had it not been for the 80 degrees and 95% humidity at 11:30 at night.

Mostly, I love everybody's inner yee-haw. Walking from the institute building to school today, I saw a group of workers including a Hispanic man wearing cowboy boots.  He's real Tex-Mex.

Maybe I'll grow to love this place.  And maybe, during the cooler months this "winter," I'll even wear my cowboy boots once or twice.  Just for kicks.