I fully intended to start this blog two months ago upon learning that my husband was looking for a job outside of our [then] residence, Austin, TX. But, life has its own way of taking over like the backseat driver it is, and before I knew it, we had a new apartment in a new city as well as Thanksgiving 2012 quickly disappearing in the rearview mirror. And, here we are, on the cusp of December and rounding month two in ::GASP!:: Dallas, Texas.
When friends learned of our impending move in October, we were met with a mix of responses and emotions. There were the "WHAT?! That's awesome and sucks at the same time," friends, and there were also the, "Dallas?! Ugh...why?" friends. In some ways, this blog is dedicated to the latter - the naysayers whom my therapist assures me were simply ill equipped to communicate their sadness in a more ::ahem:: appropriate manner.
Believe me when I say that I was perfectly content living in Austin. I had been there for 13 years as of this past August, and I could really see no reason to move.
-I convinced the love of my life to move there, and we'd been living a blissful second year of marriage.
-We had a beautiful party pad two-story home in a tucked away neighborhood in NE Austin, which was [read closely, you Austin Southies] still a convenient 7 minutes from downtown, sans traffic (so, like between the hours 10pm and 5am).
-After spending the last few years carefully weeding out the bad seeds, we were surrounded by a solid group of REALLY amazing [hand picked, mind you] friends that were perfectly in tune with our own crazy party whims (movies in the backyard, waterslide parties, and late night karaoke aplenty in the loft).
-We both had stable jobs we were kicking ass at, and my photography career was really picking up speed.
-We lived in Austin [fucking] Texas! I mean, between restaurants like Uchi and daily [Oh-em-gee] Ryan Gosling spottings, who WOULDN'T want to live there, right?!
So, my heart sank when Austin brought up the idea of moving. A friend of his knew a recruiter looking for people with his experience level to fill positions in both Houston and Dallas. And anyone who knows me knows the bitter disdain I hold for Houston, so that left us with Dallas. I made it quite apparent that it was Dallas or nothing, and he conceded. Regardless of my feelings for either city, I had convinced myself that the job hunt would span six months to a year, the same has his previous attempts in Austin. We'd be "just browsing" for the time being, waiting for the perfect opportunity that was worthy of a move, as if to say, "No, not THAT filet mignon. THAT one."
A few days after he sent out his resume to the recruiter, Austin had an interview with a REALLY big firm in Dallas. And a week after the interview, he had a job offer...an incredible job offer. And two weeks after that, we had a new home...in Dallas. I was elated and crushed, all at the same time. This move would be an adventure for us both, but I, as I'm prone to do, was scared out of my damn mind of failure. Could we really make it in Dallas? Start over? After 13 years in Austin?! But, everything was going just swimmingly in Austin, so WHY MOVE?!
And it all made sense to stay...until it just didn't anymore. Yeah, we had stable jobs and we were comfortable. But, it was THAT reason that we had to move. Comfort was great, but the harsh reality was we were comfortably stuck, a phenomenon I had been assured years prior was an inevitable result of life in said city. Our combined yearly income still had us living almost paycheck to paycheck, and the thought of starting a family appealed theoretically, but not monetarily. We told ourselves that we'd just try for kids and figure things out as we went. I mean, if the dumb-dumbs that litter TLC and E! can do it, surely two college educated and common sense proficient individuals could make it happen. Sadly, though, a wing and a prayer don't always cut it. And in the infamous words of Stevo's dad in SLC Punk, "Steven, I didn't sell out, son. I bought in. Keep that in mind."
Yeah, we bought in, and my spiked belt hanging in my closet is probably shrieking like the Wicked Witch of the West right about now. But, whatevs. Getting to quit my day job to pursue my passion by simply moving 3.5 hours up the road seems less a sacrifice and more a luxury. That's not to say that it doesn't come with its own tradeoffs [depending on someone else to provide income for my everyday necessities, driving back to Austin frequently for photo jobs, apartment living again, and battin' Dallas haters off, to name a few]. For the record, I'm digging it so far. In my mind, there's no reason that the phrase "becoming Dallas" should be proceeded by the words "don't" and "go." I will make these promises though:
I'll still come back to visit.
My hair [and my ego] won't get bigger.
My Texas accent won't get any thicker.
And, the Longhorns will always remain my Texas team.
