Houston day 9


The day went like this.  Up and on the bus, first destination with nary a hitch. Did my thing , got on second bus to another location. The second location being a job interview.  Small hiccup on finding the building ,then the office.  That snafu was remedied by the meeting of a young god who works at the office I was interviewing at.  This guy looked like if   Michelangelo’s  Jesus and a husky had a baby that wasn’t an abomination . Almost hallucinatory good looks, perfectly tanned skin, long Jesus hair and clear blue husky eyes that seemed gradient to a lighter clear grey.  In board shorts and tank, he painted a perfect picture of what I was not.  In my fancy going to meeting dress, and heels. 
The interview went well, and while I have yet to hear from them I was pleased with the experience.  But seriously they should hire me. 
Now for the fun. All done I head for home.  I take the first bus with no problem. My feet began to hurt from the shoes that just were not equal to the terrain. I get to the second bus and wait.  Now this is a 45 minute walk but my feet were killing me so I waited.  One hour,  waited, two hours waited…. 3 god damn hours.  And finally I said enough.  I kicked off my heels and began walking.  Within that 45 minute walk I was passed by not 1 ,not 3 butt 5 fucking buses!  Yes, I was quite royally spongebobbed by the transit system.
Loves/hates

1. Love : Texas accents ; sexy and slow. 
1. Hate: the metro ; I’m sorry but you get a second round in the hate category after the three hour wait.
2. Love : the sky; the clouds lately look painted on. 
2. Hate: No one talks to in my

image

little barrio I’m alone.  I am learning Spanish, wonder if that will help.

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Houston Day 8


I have needed to take a week to decide that I was going to in fact start this blog, so I start it where I am. Day 8.

I first want to  say that any resemblance this blog does, may or will have with “Sex in the City” will be purely coincidental.

By no means am I Carrie Bradshaw or Candace Bushnell    for that matter.  While I am a girl in the “Big City” I am not, looking for love, trying to find the meaning

Of life in the bottom of a Cosmo glass or living la Vida Fabulous. I may be slightly living “Mi Vida Loca”, learning Spanish and living in a little bit of a Barrio.

I am not in the city of my dreams, like Carrie that would be New York. I am not expecting to jump right into the job of my dreams or the man of my dreams(for one this Christen Bale is married ), if I was the human equivalent of any character it may be Laura Ingles Wilder, a pioneer woman in the west , fighting for the best life possible and writing it all as she goes.

I have moved to Houston, Texas from Eastpointe, Michigan because the job prospects in Michigan, for me anyway, were short on the ground. I want to be successful and just going along to get along was NOT getting it. So I went west young (WO) man and I am trying to be as positive as possible about this very scary new chapter. And you, if there eventually are a you, are invited to watch.

I will wrap up as I intend on wrapping up every day with my 2 loves and 2 hates about Houston.

  1. Love: Taco trucks: they are everywhere and the food is while not probably the BEST for you some of it is Amazing to the palette.

1.   Hate: The Transit System : I don’t have a car yet and the very IDEA that you can take a bus ride that  for 2 HOURS that would be a 25 minute car ride is the

Explains everything I HATE about it. It is winding and complicated, some lines have 2 or three routes that run down the same street and have the same names save one or two LETTERS and you will end up all the way in east hell. It’s not at ALL fair to new comers.

  1. Love: The Weirdoes:  I love the assorted fruits and nuts that live here. Trannies, the gorgeous “Is she or isn’t she “types and the putting that make up on with a spackle isn’t helping you Types. Coplay folks in dress up, Vatos with their tattoos and angry scowls masking the round lovely faces of Latin people. Beautiful Latina girls with big hair, or pink hair and piercings. And one short, skinny beggar woman, presumably a drug addict but she may just be homeless, that seems to be everywhere.

2.  Hate: I’m Lonely here.