This is probably because exactly two weeks ago I was in another place, time and stage of life.
Silly Vagabond. Tricks are for Kids.
The culmination of my undergraduate degree was on May 15th, and after 5 years of owning, roaming and avoiding the streets of Huntsville,TX I could no longer be caged in the prison city.
The end of the Huntsville Era led me back to Houston, TX (My hometown which I've grown to loathe various reasons). I suppose that in Huntsville I knew what I was getting into. It's a small town, 5 minutes or less to get most places, and nothing really changes. After five years of the status quo, life in the big city is definitely intimidating, and I find myself sitting at a cafe asking:
Why are there holes in every road? Is it humidity or just hell? Was that a prositute or a woman with a fashion statement? Was she even a she?
However, with the transition to Houston has come question far more important than prostitute pondering. Although I'm from the big city the majority of my adult experience is based in Huntsville. I commuted from university almost every weekend for Church, and was never one to pass up "cafe hopping" on Westheimer. But these alone don't atone for a complete living experience.
The unsavory city had my history at every corner and the answers to daily life tasks were in place, but my life in Houston was filled with pockets of joy scattered across the expressways, stoplights and traffic. Though I place my ultimate faith in God the mysteries of coming days have left no dull moments.
My first day at Graduate School at the University of St.Thomas was today. Although it's only scheduled to be part of my life Monday-Thursday from 12:50 P.m. til 2:50 p.m. my inexperience made for an interesting cluster-f of beautiful blessing and chaos.
It took me 40 minutes just to get to class. It used to take 3 min to walk from my house, which was the first one after campus ended. Of the 22 people in my class I am the only graduate student. I felt the sting of humility after having to ask everyone for directions to class and using the campus map like a freshman.
It was overwhelming for a moment. I sat in my class wondering if I had made the right decision.
"Just two weeks ago I was a budding Bearkat bleeding orange pride. Now I'm a Celt of the Shining Star and I don't know where the Student Center is!"
"Calm Vagabond," said the Shameless One to himself "Breathe. Pray. Release"
My professor makes another philosophical joke, and I think the girl next to me has been checking me out. Study Buddy Anyone?
The weight lifted off of my mind as a sat at Cafe Brasil and noticed two friends from my alma mater casually strolling by. They just so happened to be passing during my blogging process, and their presence made me feel at home in my hometown.
Although I've become a little more acclimated to the busy and often traffic laden lifestyles, Houston's ailment still was an issue. But after much deliberation I've reached a conclusion.
Houston is not a doldrums of existence. It's just too big for it's own good. Withing the crevices of fast-food joints and suburbs there are pockets of brilliance. The Heights and Westheimer Strip are conveniently near university and are my anti-boredom. If Huntsville was the same size I'm certain it would run out of interesting environments and activities.
I can't expect everyone of the millions of Houstonians to fit my personal fancies, so I shouldn't expect the city's accommodations to either. I avoid 80 percent of the city because it's filled with boring surroundings housing perhaps dull citizens. A hasty assumption on my part now I'm comfortable in my 20 percent of ignorant bliss.