Let's just dive right into it

Houston, We Have a Problem...You

In case you can't tell by the title this blog will not be an ode to my city. Rather, it is more of a critique. Okay, I will flat out say it...this blog is for me to bitch and complain about how much I fucking HATE it here.

So a word of forewarning, if you dislike negative, whiny outlooks on life this probably isn't the blog for you. I'm really writing this for myself anyway, though I would be delighted if it turns out others shared my sentiments. I'm considering it therapy. I feel trapped in this city and I really need an outlet for my frustration.

Now that you know WHY I'm starting this blog, perhaps it is fitting to tell you a little bit about myself. I grew up in the northeast. Freezing. Snow. Lots of snow. I graduated high school in 2001 and got the hell out of there as fast as possible. Never in a million years did I ever think I would end up in Houston, TX. But the funny thing is, having met hundreds of other transplants over the course of my eight years here, NO ONE WANTS to end up in Houston, Texas.

How did I get here, you ask?

A friend got a job here. His girlfriend wanted me to tag along to keep her company. What's funny is that they didn't even last a year down here. I, on the other hand, stayed. I got a job that I enjoyed...I was 18, free, living in my own apartment, dating. It just sort of "happened". Don't get me wrong, I have never liked it here. I can dig up an old online journal entry from 2002 (one year after moving here) where I weigh the pros and cons of staying in Texas or leaving. In the course of trying to figure out whether or not to go home, I met my husband. Life happened. Moving back to the east coast was put on the backburner while I persued this relationship.

He's a transplant too, also from the east coast. Like me, he never imagined that he would live in Houston, though he isn't as desperate as I am to get out. We got married last year. Since this blog will be top secret and I don't plan on giving away too many details of who I am, I can confess that this is a conditional marriage. As much as I love my husband, I would leave him in a second if he told me that we were here to stay. Before people get all huffy puffy about my attitude, let me just say that we've had a million conversations about this, and as far as I know we are on the same page. I'm just saying....everyone has their deal breakers. For some people divorce isn't an option. For some they would get divorced if they weren't in love, or if they were beaten, or if there was infidelity. For me, I would get divorced if my husband told me he had no intentions of leaving Houston.
To put it another way.....some people would never consider marrying someone who didn't share their same religion. Some people who never marry someone who had bad credit. Some people would never marry someone who has had several prior marriages. *I* would not marry someone who was not willing to move out of Houston. So when I say that our marriage is "conditional", I mean that when I said my vows I did so on the condition that leaving Houston was a mutual goal that we both considered a top priority, especially before having children.

Really, this is a blog entry all on its own. I am sure I will touch upon it more in the future.

Now that you know who I am, and how I think, I would like to welcome you to my blog. The main topic will be how much I hate Houston. Through it, I am sure that you will learn more about me and why I feel this way. I know that I am excited to learn more about myself and why I feel this way.

Thank you for stopping by.