scrawls.

scrawls

still cheaper than therapy*

18.4.06

already

i am trying to think of the things i will miss. tiny mexican tortilla ladies. people wearing shorts in january. rivers. are there fields full of wildflowers in austria? there must be. the ghost towns you drive through with the still-regal burnt-out buildings, roof open to the sky, still indestructible. desperate tin-roofed shanties. arts and crafts bungalows. frank lloyd wright. carnegie libraries. cow pastures in the middle of town. Austin Grand Prize salsa. guacamole. in texas everything is bigger: there is a sense of space, of having enough room, but cities, and apartments, without yards, without trees, without square footage. air to breathe. wide-open sky, without any alps in. everything is so far away - it's very pensive. wild grapes and indian paintbrush on the roadside. being a citizen. speaking a language i have known all my life. sheer command of the idiom: i will never be a native German speaker. the ability to make small talk, to connect. the ease of putting the dogs outside in the morning, the deck, the yard. The house. i'll never be a first-time homeowner again.

we have a meeting with a realtor in two days: it might be easier, better, to sell now and rent somewhere until december. While the yard is mowed.

in vienna, i don't want to attatch, now, to other americans. just for the simplicity of home. i worry that it will become inevitable. i want to move to this other place, and live as this other place, and i wonder if the american in me is absolutely indelible. i think it might be. but to move to another continent and then fix onto only other americans would be cheating.

if i am not a big fat loud american now, will i miss it later? tags:texas

scrawled @ 19:44