Please don't judge me...

So, I'm considering going home. Maybe not for good, but it certainly wouldn't be a simple vacation.

• "Going home" has such a negative connotation out here. I feel like saying one is "going home" is akin to admitting defeat or giving up on the dream. It's awkward saying it out loud. Heck, it's awkward just typing the words. I've thought about it before and, in the past, have laughed it off. I'd be lying, though, if I wasn't seriously considering it this time, though.
  

• This place is an expensive place to live. Other than my 401K, I've not been able to build up any real savings and, with the economy being like it is, that bothers me. Every instinct I have is to "hunker down" -- go back to Kansas West Texas, move back in with my parents for a few month (they've all offered), pay off some debt and build up some savings. I've already had two job offers -- can you believe it? Maybe someday I can buy a house, because barring some kind of financial windfall, I will never own property in Los Angeles. I've had to accept that.

• I miss my family. Plain and simple. I love living in California and I love the freedom that comes from being on my own, but I miss my family. My youngest nephew doesn't even know me. He wouldn't let me hold him at Christmas. I'd be lying if I said that didn't sting a little. I miss being able to hug my dad whenever I want to. I miss long chats in the living room with Nancy. I miss cooking and cleaning with my mom. I miss goofing with Craig. I miss being able to go and sit in the recliner at my Nana's and listen to her delightful accent -- a blend of Minnesotan with years of Texan. I miss going to the truck stop to get a Coke with Grandma and Grandpa. I miss being a daughter, a granddaughter, a sister, and an aunt. Not that I can't be those things out here, but it's easier to be there for birthday dinners, surgeries, and other events when you can hop in the car and just go. Yes, my career and my dreams are important to me -- but my family is most important.

• Let's be honest. A writer writes. I haven't done a darn thing in forever. Not because I haven't wanted to -- I just can't. I am so writer's blocked it's not even funny. And the writer's block makes me not even want to try. I think I'm stressed about a lot of things and I think that's a big cause of it. I can't help but feel like getting out of a stressful environment will help in that respect. My career is going nowhere at this point. Yesterday, I celebrated my five year anniversary with this company. I'm still in the same position that I was when I first started. I get paid decently for an assistant and the benefits are great (save for not covering orthodontia -- yes, I'm bitter), but I honestly feel like I'm stuck in the mud at this point.
  

• All the boys I've dated (or even nearly dated) here suck. Well, they don't suck, but it's a bit frustrating when you're stood up, canceled on, or not called after the first date. Makes me think there's something wrong with me. Not in the "I'm defective" way, but in the 2 + 2 = 4 way. (Yay, math!)

So, here's the plan. If I do go back to Texas, I do not plan on giving up my entertainment industry ties or dreams. I'd like to get hired on at some companies to do script coverage. (Yay, technology!) I'll keep looking for material to be produced. I'll come to L.A. to pitch (and eat In-n-Out and go to Disneyland...).

Look, this isn't a done deal. I don't know for sure if it's going to happen. Heck, someone from my dream job could call in the next day and change it all. It's what I'm thinking about, though. A lot. And it excites me, but it also makes me really sad. Why can't decisions be easy?

On a happier note, have you seen Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Part 2), yet? If not, GO. Lovely movie, but take your tissues. The cute wittle babies have all grown up.

Happiness is not Texas in my rear view mirror.

That's not to say that I'm not happy, because I am. Seriously. But the homesickness just about kills me sometimes -- and I've noticed something... It's worst in the summer and I'm not exactly sure why.

For some reason, though, I keep going back to summers in west Texas. The sound of the old ice cream maker making some kind of ice cream. I loved banana -- my Poppy and I used to "clean" the dash with a spoon. The feel of the hot shingles on top of the boat house at Lake Kemp beneath my feet as I ran to jump into the lake. The taste of Sunkist soda and Little Debbie Nutty Bars as I sat underneath the trees on the uneven pavement outside the lake house. The sound of locust and an air conditioning unit running full blast. Lizards and horny toads and swatting house flies with a, well, fly swatter. Over-chlorination in the swimming pools at church camp. The hot and humid weather preceding a west Texas thunderstorm -- and the cool feeling afterwards. Watching the rainwater rush in down by the river. The smell of the exhaust from my grandpa's boat. Having to go on one last car ride with my Nana and Poppy -- even if it was just a block around the school -- before they headed back to Abilene. Generic sandwich cookies and watered-down red Kool-Aid at Vacation Bible School. Scuffed knees and tennis shoes from climbing the tree in the back yard -- and listening to Milli Vanilli with Justin. Snow cones. Browsing the J.C. Penney catalog and planning my school wardrobe for the next year, because I was determined to finally be one of the cool kids. (I don't think that ever really happened, but still.) Picnicing down by the Concho River the night of the San Angelo Symphony's July 4th Pops Concert and watching fireworks. Guero's in Austin with Lisa as a live band played outside. The miserable heat as I trudged back to my air conditioned dorm from the BA building at Tech my final summer semester. Mom's fried chicken, homemade potato salad, and baked beans (with the special secret ingredient) at a roadside picnic area on the way to drop Katy at Girl Scout Camp around Fort Davis. The smell of the grass after my dad and brothers had mowed (and edged and weed-eated/ate?) both the front and back yards. The smell of the grill as my dad cooked burgers while I sat at the old formica bar and buttered buns to toast. Cross Canadian Ragweed playing at the San Angelo River Stage while I held an empty lawn chair over my head to keep the rain off. Homemade pina coladas and fajitas while listening to Texas country music. Driving through Austin with Katy and Mama trying to find a Krispy Kreme donut place. Blue Bell. Mrs. Baird's. Town and Country (suck it, Stripes). 87. 20. 208. 277. 84.

Perhaps I'm just jealous that my brothers and sisters are all with my dad and stepmom at Lake LBJ this weekend. Last year was a dream -- I darn near didn't come back. I remember lying underneath a huge mimosa tree as Natalie Merchant's "Motherland" played on my iPod. Texas is my homeland and I love it. I miss it. No matter how many awesome things I get to do in California -- no matter how much I love my "family" here -- Texas will always be home. I don't know if I'll ever make it back to stay, but my heart will always spend part of the year in the 325 and 432.

Check out some Texas summer pictures here. And here are a couple more songs for your listening pleasure:

"They Call it the Hill Country" - Randy Rogers Band
"Texas In My Rearview Mirror" - Mac Davis
"42 Miles" - Cross Canadian Ragweed
"Amarillo By Morning" - George Strait
"Back Where I Come From" - Kenny Chesney
"Chattahoochee" - Alan Jackson (yes, I know the Chattahoochee is not in Texas)
"The Road Goes On Forever (And the Party Never Ends)" - Robert Earl Keen
"Easy Silence" - The Dixie Chicks
"Texas (When I Die)" - Tanya Tucker
"Ohio (Come Back to Texas)" - Bowling For Soup (you had to see this one coming)

In the words of Jason Street and Tim Riggins, Texas Forever.

P.S. If you don't know what show I'm referring to in that last sentence, rectify that situation immediately.

P.S. Again. I think I'm going to go and bake an apple pie, make some homemade ice cream, and seriously consider making oven barbequed chicken for dinner tonight.

My Nephew is Cute (Part Two)

So, there's been a running thing between my brother and my nephew for several years now. After we decided to call his Blackout Transformer "Blackie" (a shooey girl's name, apparently), Brayden decided to get "Uncle Mike" (my brother) a "Hello Kitty" card for his birthday this year. In "retaliation," my brother got Brayden something special for Christmas...



He then decided to re-gift to my Uncle Rick. The glee with which this kid does it is absolutely adorable. He can't even sit still.



I miss that kid.

My Nephew is Cute (Part One)

Okay, so both of my nephews are cute. (That's one of the first times I've been able to say "both my nephews" -- Austin was born on Friday.) I unfortunately have not yet gotten to meet Austin, which means that I haven't been able to take my own pictures or video, so that's why the star of this blog post is one Brayden.



There's two parts to this one, mainly because I didn't want to inundate you with YouTube embeds. Brayden loves spy stuff. Last year, my brother and sister-in-law (the new parents!) bought him a spy kit with all kinds of fun stuff. This year, I gave him some more stuff that I was able to acquire through work (love. it.)...and a football. Because he wanted a football and, by golly, if a West Texas boy wants to start playing football, bring it on. Plus, he wants to go to Texas Tech -- and that's awesome in Aunt Amanda's book.

ANYWAY. Spy Stuff. Because you guys don't care about the football. I took video in 2008 and 2009 of him playing with his new spy toys. I finally got around to editing something together. Not the best editing job ever, but he just makes me smile.



(The comma on that Bond font just irritates me to no end!)