Monday, July 04, 2011

deboardin' the airplane-o

It's true. Everything is bigger here. Cars, cows, cleavage. You name it, it's XXL.

Everything is also shiny and new down here. I'm used to walking around Chicago and seeing a smidgeon of grunge here and there (admittedly less so after my move from Hyde Park to Lakeview). But here in Plano, there are no homeless to awkwardly avoid eye contact with. There aren't abandoned houses or neglected alleys that serve as an eyesore in between beautiful homes. I don't even think there are dumpsters here.

Things here are built with purpose and resolve. The big-ass streets are what still get me - while Texas certainly has its fair share of weather problems, the roads make it obvious that snow is not one of them. I'm not used to seeing such perfect, uncracked, unpotholed pavement. It's unnerving, like seeing a face that's too symmetrical or beautiful. There are no flaws here, no points of interest to focus on, and as a result, not much to say about the locale.

I don't think I could ever live in a place like this, where life is uninspiring but easy and comfortable if you're privileged enough to have the money to live here. But I admit it makes for a nice getaway during the week. By the time I find myself longing for Chicago I usually only have to wait a day or two. Then an insane weekend inevitably sweeps me in with the current of the city and I find myself wanting nothing more than to be curled up with a book a thousand miles away, which is exactly the kind of refuge Plano offers. Then the cycle starts over: board plane deboard plane Chicago Chicago board plane deboard plane Texas Texas Texas Texas Texas. If my life were a Daft Punk song those would be the lyrics and it'd be an awesome song.

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