What I've Been Reading

a general update, now with books.

You may be sensing a theme.

There’s also a giant tome for Texas Master Naturalists (600 pages!), but it’s huge, heavy, and in the other room right now, and I am nothing if not lazy.

After deciding on a drop-dead date for my horribly crappy attitude about this move, I started flooding myself with places to start rooting around for some joy. Travel guides, nature guides, folklore tomes, stories. I even subscribed to a couple local/state magazines (one for San Antonio in specific; one for the state parks & rec that has stuff from all over to go explore).

I read websites, watched roughly four thousand youtube videos about touristy things to do and the geographical makeup of the sand sheet (the region we’ll be in) and vlogs from people living in the city. We’re talking full-ass immersion in an attempt to slough off the creeping dread and find things to look forward to.

I’ll admit it: the creeping dread still exists.

I’m still worried about the heat and the excessive juniper pollen that causes a yearly spate of what they call “Cedar Fever”¹ and the general vibe that’s the absolute opposite of where I’m at now². I’d be lying if I said I was perfectly at peace with it all.

However: I AM finding things that will be kind of fun.³

There’s a very vibrant oral tradition of storytelling in the region, and I do have a weird obsession with folklore. So I’ll want to find those stories and learn them all, because that’s what I do.

There’s also a robust art scene. A couple of big museums, a SLEW of galleries, and a bunch of outsider art in a band from SA to Austin that looks like a lot of fun. Maybe if the pollen hasn’t killed me, I can meet some artists to hang out and do weird artist things with. I’m in my Crone Era, so doing weird things is actually appropriate now.

AND and and and and….I found out there’s a LOT of wild clay in the area. And a lot of potters. AND a studio where you pay less than a quarter of what the clay collective here costs per month and you can use all the equipment and fire things. COMMUNITY KILNS, folks. I may have made excited little squealy noises with my face when I read about it.

There are a few gaming stores and groups, a couple art supply places that look good, and a TON of bookstores. Including, I kid you not, The Bloggess's. If you don’t know about Beyonce the Big Metal Chicken, you must google it right now, because it’s one of those epic stories that you’ll be quoting for the rest of your days. And the author of said metal chicken story has a bookstore. In the same city we’ll be in. I’m pretty sure that I’m going to be removed by security for being there all the time⁴. Luckily, there are a lot of other bookstores to take the brunt of my obsession admiration.⁵

And then there’s the tacos.

San Antonio invented a Thing called “puffy tacos”. They’re essentially tacos, but in a puffy, deep-fried flour shell. They’re tacos, but puffy. Thus, puffy tacos. And they look amazing.

Plus, we’re a couple hours from the border⁶, so there’s an authentic Mexican place roughly every thirty feet. It’s like the NW with Starbucks’, but less corporate and without caffeine jitters. I’m pretty sure I’m going to weigh approximately nine hundred pounds after the first year, but I’ll be full of tacos and perfectly happy with that. Just roll me over to a bookstore.

And then there are a few less tangible things.

Things like:

• My mom’s only a 12 hour drive from me, and it’s not over mountains that are treacherous roughly two seasons a year. (Winter, half of fall, half of spring.). I can FINALLY get back to see her and the rest of my recently-discovered family. FINALLY.

• I get to buy clothes. I’m not a big clothes person. Fashionista, I am not. But it’s kind of feeling like Back to School days for some reason, and if I have to put away my flannel, getting to buy some floaty lagenlook-ish linen stuff is at least a bit of comfort.

• It’s an all-new environment. Ecologically, I know almost nothing about the southern deserts, so it’s going to be Discovery Time for my itchy drawing-fingers.

• Speaking of drawing fingers, there’s a very active urban sketchers group, and I won’t have to drive for hours to participate. Yay!

• And speaking of urban sketchers — they just went to a whole bunch of missions this past month. I knew about the Alamo (because who doesn’t?), but not about the dozen or so other missions that have been set aside as a (state? national? something.) park, so you can literally visit them for free anytime. Yes, please⁷.

• It’s a bit of a hike, but the Gulf OF MEXICO⁸ isn’t all that far. Not only is the wild clay even more plentiful in that direction, I’ve never seen the Gulf. At least not this eastern part. (I’ve seen it from Louisiana, but it’s kind of a strange inlet by New Orleans and feels more river than gulf to me, or the part I saw was, at least.).

• I’ve ditched Norwegian classes for a bit and picked up Spanish, as it’s likely to be a little more useful where we’ll be. Sesame Street seems to have given me all the basics, because I’m doing pretty well in the child-level first levels⁹. I like having an excuse to learn stuff.

So, as you can see, the Attitude Adjustment is a work in progress.

I’m sure I’ll get more on board the closer we get to the move date¹⁰. And, of course, I’ll keep you updated on all of it.

I feel like this is a line of demarcation between two very distinct eras of my life. I have the opportunity now not just to be in a new place, but to reinvent myself along the way. I’m not the same person I was two decades ago¹¹, so it might be time to let all the things that changed me change me.

Maybe my Crone Era will smell like tacos and the Guadalupe River and old white ladies wearing too much turquoise.

I guess I’ll find out.

1. It’s a Thing, y’all. Apparently, about 60% of humans have reactions to this particular tree pollen, and of those, 40% report having to call out sick for three or more days per season due to severe symptoms. And of those, about 10% are hospitalized annually. Given that I’m a Weird Magnet, the odds are that I’ll be in that 10%. Lucky me.

2. Irony: that the thing I’ll miss most about the NW (trees) are exactly what will probably kill me for four months out of the year, just in time for the heat to finish me off if I’m not already dead. Go figure.

3. I feel like I’m being disloyal to my heart-home by even saying that, but…a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, even if it involves deserts.

4. “Ma’am, there’s a browsing limit of twelve hours a day. We’re going to have to ask you to make your final selections and remove the chain you’ve looped around our New Releases shelving unit.”

5. So many that I’m thinking I might have to do some kind of zine project to have an excuse to visit them all. Like A Reader’s Guide to San Antonio, with all the shops and libraries and good spots to go sit with a book and not get murdered. (Did I mention the murder? Apparently, the rate’s higher than average. I’m choosing to ignore that for now.)

6. Which is essentially next door in Texas. The state is friggin’ huge.

7. Confession time: probably one of my favorite indoor styles is the whole spanish mission thing. I caught the love in southern California when I lived there. The dark wood, the textured monochrome walls, the beams and tile floors and airy softness on monastic iron and wood furniture? Yes. I’ll take it.

8. suck it, orange buttface.

9. La mujer tiene un carro perfecto! Ella es muy intelligente. El perro es en el supermercado, cuando manzanas. I may have messed up “buying”. I have three lessons; don’t judge.

10. which is still up in the air right now. They’re still saying September…ish. If it’s after that, I’m not going to want to drive a Uhaul through the Cascades/Rockies, because it gets super dicey and I’m a giant chicken. So we’re pretty much planning on late September so we’re there by 1 Oct.

11. nor should I be. Growth is inevitable and necessary.