Wasted Ink

January 9, 2000 (3:25 pm)


The thought of living outside the state of Texas is something I would like more than anything, but sometimes it can be a difficult concept to grasp. It’s true what they say about Texas being a country of its own. Not that we still ride around on horses wearing spurs and holsters (well, some of us do) this is just a big freaking state. You can drive for 48 hours straight and still not be out of Texas. I’ve lived here for 22 years and have yet to visit certain places, or see all the “wonderful” sights. In 97’ my friends and I took a two week vacation traveling through New Mexico, Arizona, California, and Nevada and it was on this excursion that I realized how foreign the rest of America was to me, but about a week on the road I found myself sitting in the backseat chanting the word “Houston” in my head over and over again until the once familiar word became absurd to me, and the actual place then became foreign as California (being a word and location) began to make sense. It is true that you cannot leave the past behind, but the power of a new start, a new location, and a new identity is the antidote I had been searching for.

The spring semester starts next Tuesday, and although I am excited about going back to school after a year of working a brain dead job, I am reluctant to commit myself to this place for another five months. My plans of transferring to San Marcos to finish off college are practical, and it would be better than living in Houston (hell is better) but how much more difficult would it be to transfer to a different state? These words have been exploited for four years now and under the same roof I sit at the beginning of another journal. When will I lose interest? As you probably might have guessed, that Seattle thing will most likely not happen. My friends are slackers as I am as well, but we have our excuses for what it’s worth.

“I had the biggest smile on my face as we passed the state line into Southern California. My friends had fallen victim to sleep but I could have driven all night.” – Next Stop Hollywood –

Author: Lindsay Niemann

Writer | Graphic Artist