I would live here.

I don’t say that often.

I grew up in Texas and I have a hard time imagining myself loving any place as much.  You don’t understand, I know, but maybe this will help.  Imagine your ex-girlfriend is a former super model and weekly volunteer at the local homeless shelter, with a masters degree, an infectious laugh, and a collection of Shaun Groves CDs.  Great taste.  Now, how could anyone you met after her ever compete.

Tennessee’s like your ex-girlfriend’s only slightly less attractive sister.  She’s smart too but her degree is in pottery and that shouldn’t count should it?  She’s compassionate and whatnot but you’re not sure volunteering at the animal shelter once a year is really all that big of a deal.  And her laugh’s great, really, except that if she really gets going she snorts…and you can’t help but notice that when she does that she sounds a little like your cousin Ray – the one that can fit five hotdogs in his mouth at the same time.  Yea, she snorts like that.  Oh, and she’s a big Lee Greenwood fan.  She’s a great girl and all but, come on, she’s no Texas.  She’ll never be.

But here I am in Washington.  Highways lined with giant wilderness.  It’s seventy degrees in July.  Cool breeze.  The friendliest most laid back people are everywhere – gas stations, churches, a little deli – the place is packed with happy relaxed folks.

All I’m saying is when I’m through with Tennessee, if Texas won’t have me back, I’m moving in with Washington.

Oh, and she saved 39 kids this weekend.  Ain’t she sweet?

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And here’s the girl…I mean the place I call home right now.

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