Hell is a Houston Highway
Hell is a Houston highway. I guess that’s the post title. Top-tier alliteration like that is spontaneous, so it must be respected. Double points for it being profoundly true. If you told me I’d actually squandered my human life and the Katy Fwy was a demon realm, I’d probably believe you.
Youth soccer kind of sucks. It has me waking up at work-week hours on a Saturday. We drove clear across this sweltering, concrete necropolis to the moneyed neighborhoods near Rice University. The boy ventured out onto the pitch for ninety minutes of football under a merciless sun.
The wife and I found a spot under a tree near the sideline and settled in. I palmed my X3 to get some reading in. With my sunglasses on, it looked like I was still watching the match. Just as I was getting into the zone, my phone chimed. It was my neighbor sending pictures of my water meter box in the front lawn. Water was streaming out of it. My bill is going to be stupid.
This is why I rent though. Homeownership is a scam I’ll never fall for again. “But the equity...” Yeah, fuck off. You have it until you don’t and then you end up struggling to break even on your mortgage after seven years of pouring money into the place. Ask me how I know.
I’m not lucky enough to get a break on the city-side of the meter, so I told the landlord and he’s sorting out a plumber.
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I brought up the topic of next steps again last night. As time goes on and we settle ever deeper into the suburban routine, I like to make sure we’re still aligned.
We agreed that we would still load up a storage unit and move abroad for at least a year, trying the slow-travel thing through SEA. If they’re miserable after that time, we can come back.
But this time, we expanded on what coming back would look like. It definitely won’t be Texas. We moved back here from the UK because of her family, but we still rarely see them, so what’s the point? It’s a big country; if I’m going to end up dying here, it might as well be somewhere nice.
I’m partial to Colorado or the PNW. I want mountains and greenery and actual seasons. I want my plant medicines from a shop rather than the dark web. I want fewer “Pro-God, Pro-Guns, Pro-Life” bumper stickers on the roads. I’ll take a pink-haired lesbian in a Subaru over the braindead good ol’ boys of the south any day of the week.
I’m not being hyperbolic; I really love lesbians. What does it say about me that I get along with them so much better than men?
Anyway, mountains, Ponderosa Pines, and legal weed: that’s what I want for my life if I’m to be stuck in the US.
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When we got home, the boy retreated to his cave and we collapsed in our bed. I drifted off for an hour or so before getting up and making coffee. I’m now fully caffeinated with no plans, hence my rambling here.
I have Elden Ring waiting for me on the PC upstairs. I’m trying the new Idus Knight. I’ll probably go with a Dex/Fth build on this run. I just started, so I still need to over-level on my way to Stormveil, where Margit will talk shit before getting dropped...
Foul Tarnished, in search of the Elden Ring. Emboldened by the flame of ambition. Someone must extinguish thy flame.
