Homesick

me & the bub - houston heights - 2006

I miss Houston - a lot. I dream about moving back ~ which is kinda weird for me since I dreamed for so long about escaping it.

I’m a native Houstonian – and there aren’t many of us around. I left at age 6 to live on the other side of the world, in Indonesia. Then, 4 years later, I ended up in Carlinville, Illinois – which might as well have been on the other side of the moon. Every time I’d get comfortable where I was, we’d have to move. I was none too happy about our return to Houston another 4 years later – I was 14 years old and a week from starting high school. Ugh. What a freakin’ nightmare that was.

High School in the burbs was hellish to say the least – thankfully my college years at UH introduced me to the real Houston – and I ended up in Montrose, an eclectic neighborhood near downtown where all sorts of folks from all walks of life live, work and have fun. I had some good times there and some bad ones as well – but my own wanderlust always had me looking to get out of town. I just couldn’t believe that I, the world traveler, would end up living in my hometown for the rest of my life. It just didn’t seem possible – it didn’t seem like me. I wanted to try living somewhere else. I had a couple of false runs ~ a few months in Orange County, CA – a few months in Austin ~ but I always ended up back in Houston. My friends and I would joke about how impossible it was to actually leave Houston permanently – it always seems to pull you back in.

A few lifetimes later, I am married with one kiddo, living in the burbs of San Antonio. We escaped the swamp of H-town four years ago, heading west to the beautiful hill country of Texas, hoping to maybe one day end up in Austin. We’ve given it a fair shot here I think ~ I joined a playgroup right away, got a part-time job, started a beer club, played bunco, started a website and a business, volunteered at Lyle’s school ~ all in an effort to make friends, real connections. I think I was okay with it all for the first two years, but now I find myself lost, lonely and unhappy. I’m not me anymore, and I don’t belong where I am. I’m hopelessly homesick and missing my life in what many call the armpit of the world, Houston. The old adage is true ~ you don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone.

Thankfully, my husband, Sean, is in the same boat with me ~ he longs for Frenchy’s Fried Chicken, shows at the Mucky Duck, ice cold Lone Stars at West Alabama Ice House, and raising Lyle in an urban neighborhood free of zoning. We don’t really miss the humidity, the traffic, the giant cockroaches and mosquitoes, or the lack of greenspace ~ but the people, our friends, the vibe, the diversity, the food, the culture, the funk and the grit more than make up for the crappiness ~ they make it a really cool and interesting place to live and grow.

So, this blog is my love letter to Houston. I’m putting it out there ~ hoping the universe will hear me and help us get back to where we belong. I’m planning to write about all of the spots in Houston - restaurants, shops, clubs, museums, bars, parks, buildings, neighborhoods, and streets - that we love and miss so much.