_bossanova_

Just got back from a long weekend in Texas. I spent two nights in Houston at my dad's, where he treated me to fantastic seafood one night and sushi the next (Houston's the fattest city in America for a reason...there're way too many restaurants). My stepmother loaded me down for my return trip with stuff from her travels-I picked up pearl earrings from China, a dress from Hong Kong, chocolates from Russia, and dried mangoes from the Philippines. We saw Burn After Reading and I took in the aftermath of Ike: traffic lights were out, tree limbs and fences were strewn about, and people were waiting in long lines for water, ice, and MRE's.

The weekend was happier: I drove up to Austin by myself to see some relatives. The drive was lovely, both ways. I love the wide vistas, the dusty barbecue joints, and the pastures full of happy-looking cattle and horses. I even passed a pasture with a herd of miniature donkeys in it! Ok, I'm a dork. But seriously, the drive was therapeutic and so was being in Austin. I stayed at my aunt's fancy-pants house by the Barton Creek preserve and caught up with my cousins. My aunt even made a pie in my honor, with gorgeous pecans my grandpa sent her from Georgia. Sunday I drove downtown to see the Old Pecan St. Festival and an old friend that works around there. I got some neat milagros and postcards to send friends at Tesoro's, and walked around in the sunshine. My funk was officially gone.

Last night I was trying to go to sleep and found 120 Minutes on VH1 Classic. First, I felt old. Then, I felt like I was 15 and looked forward to Sunday nights with a passion I don't feel often anymore. I miss that show, especially when it was good!