Texas, Texas...Yee-Haw!

Greetings and salutations! I'm officially welcoming myself back from my holiday hiatus. Sorry for dropping off the grid--I'm a cautious blogger and don't alert people to my out-of-state whereabouts. And what a fine state I was in for the past week...TEXAS! 

Yup. Me and the boyfriend packed up our cares and woes and schlepped them on down to the Lone Star State to visit mi familia. We stayed a few nights with my mom in Houston, where it was a balmy 78 degrees our first night in town.

Things cooled down considerably once we'd ambled down to my Dad's house, located in a slightly more rural area of Kemah.

I have the same sign at my apartment in Queens. It reads "From my railroad basement to yours...Happy Holidays, and may Santa bring us all more closet space."

My dad is a true Texas man, and dresses his house for the holiday accordingly.

Going to Texas is always a nice little break for this weary New York girl. If you have access to a hammock, I recommend you use it with frequency.

We made a quick drive down to Galveston, where I grew up. If you've never been, Galveston is a charming Gulf Coast town with lovely beaches, incredible fresh seafood and some of the warmest people you'll ever have the pleasure to meet.

I was happy to see a lot of progress had been made since Hurricane Ike struck two years ago.

Galveston is a very resilient city.

One of my fondest memories from childhood was driving along the Seawall with the windows down on my way to school every morning. My daily commute is far less serene these days. Unless, of course, you find sandwiching yourself between sweaty strangers on a train car while mariachi bands push through the aisle busking for change peaceful. I personally would prefer a morning beach drive. But that's just me.

Dad lives next door to ranchers, and I love popping over to visit their fleet of animals when I come through town. They have pigs and horses and cows, but my favorites are the majestic longhorns. This here is "Chicken Nugget", whose Dad's neighbor lovingly calls his "Chicken Nugget Girl". You have to hear his Texas accent to really get the full effect, but I assure you it was very amusing and extremely charming. 

So yesterday, we rolled on out of Houston and (amazingly) rolled back into La Guardia airport.

Where it looked like this.

And the cab and bus lines looked like this. It was total anarchy; one of those situations where transportation is so severely limited that it's eat or be eaten. People trampled over suitcases and sloshed through ankle-deep snow banks to pile onto buses. By the sixth bus, we'd had it, and illicitly climbed on board through the back doors. The bus driver threatened several times to call the cops who would "drag anyone off who had snuck onto the bus". Vin and I broke into the sweats and actually considered hopping off. Our consciences couldn't take the pressure. We are far too polite for anarchy.

If anyone from the MTA is reading this, shoot me an email. I owe you $2.50.