April 13. If you hadn’t noticed, that was the date of my last blog post (which, in blogger land, probably means you died before April 20). I’ve already come clean with you about my poor journaling habits, so hopefully you weren’t too worried.
The last two months have been some of the most unnerving, anxiety-filled months of my life. Since April 13, my husband and I have made a series of exciting and terrifying decisions, revolving around our choice to move to Texas.
The decision wasn’t as random as it may seem. Jason has been applying to grad schools for a while, and learned back in March that he was accepted to the University of Texas at Arlington. At first, we considered it our backup plan’s backup plan. But even after getting into some pretty prestigious schools (University of Madison Wisconsin and Ohio State among them! I have such a smart husband!), Texas always emerged as the better fit for Jason. Ultimately, we chose Texas for the quality of the graduate program, but also for the exciting, urban atmosphere, the robust job market, and the close friends already living in the Dallas-Ft. Worth area. But it is the LAST place we ever thought we’d live.
Why, you ask? Number one, because Texas is HOT. People shouldn’t live in places where a string of 97• days in June is considered a “cool down.” Secondly, because Texas seems to be “pro-” on everything we’re “anti-.” The death penalty. Big oil. Gun control. We’d fit in much better in New Jersey, where recycling is mandatory and you’re not allowed to have a gun assembled in your car, let alone in a college classroom. Finally, we love seasons. You should see how giddy I am on the first cool day of September. Jason came home from work and the house was chock full of decorative gourds and pumpkin desserts. I have to restrain myself from playing Christmas music after the first snowfall. Of course I hate scraping my windshield, wearing nothing but snow boots, and being cold ALL the time. But nothing can replace the view of a soft snowfall out your bedroom window, or the vibrant drives through the country in mid-October. And it is these things that Texas, for all its low taxes and early springs, will never be able to offer.
The entire process—from tediously applying for jobs to poring over apartment websites—has taken a considerable amount of our time and energy. It has gone from the main thing we talk about to the ONLY thing we talk about. It keeps us up at nights, induces sporadic stomach aches, and prompts the rare sob-fest. But we’re forging ahead for now, thanks to fistfuls of Tums and frequent prayer. For some unknown reason, it appears that God is leading us to the Lonestar State. I just hope He doesn’t want me to start saying “y’all.”