Se acabó el semestre
Another year done, and it dawned on me that I’ve now been a Texan for as long as I was a Floridian, a somewhat unsettling fact. Putting down roots anywhere makes me freak out, and the fact that I’ve got about four more years here in the Heart of Texas is a little crazy. Strictly speaking, I don’t like to plan more than 9 months in advance.
And yet there’s something about being here that feels right, that feels like home. I’ve found a place that non-ironically loves country music, and boasts honest-to-god honkytonks that resist gentrification as well as salsa clubs, somewhere I can obtain both Italian-inspired charcuterie and carne asada on a Saturday grocery expedition. I’ve learned to two-step and conduct a qualitative research project.
Cheers to that, I say.
Cheers in the form of homemade sangrita and some good tequila that miraculously survived the journey in my backpack from Benito Juárez International Airport all the way to ATX–just the thing for a lazy Sunday sunset on the back porch, reading my last empirical study of the semester.