My parent's live in fear of me running away to Texas. Not so much the Teas part as the running away, though they are a bit leery of Texans too. During a certain era in US history (which at one point I could have named but now the time period escapes me), the phrase "Gone to Texas," oft shortened to "GTT," meant you had pulled stakes and gotten the f**K out of town with no intention to return. Given my past, my parents are probably quite correct to fear that I will one day do exactly that. I'm not certain why they believe I am more likely to go to Texas if I do run than anywhere else, but in any case, they have spent most of the last week genuinely wondering if I was actually going to use my ticket home.

My parent's fears aside, my trip to Dallas was interesting. At times fun, at times boring, occasionally surprising, most of it in quiet introspection, it went just how I like my vacations to run. I could write a travelogue, but others will and have done that, and with no photographs (Joe may hate getting his pictures taken, but MY hatred extends as far as even taking the blighters), my contribution would be a bit pale in comparison. So instead, I'll list the few things I took away from the trip.

1. Serendipity is apparently still my guiding deity. There was only one slight disappointment to about six things accidentally going my way. The highlight was the meeting of an itinerant British national with an extremely limp handshake that I met on Thursday and wound up spending a good chunk of Friday with. Don't get ideas; I'm pretty sure he was straight--though to be honest I didn't ask. By the time he had hand fed an opportunity to invite him up to my hotel room, all I wanted to do in my bed was sleep.

2. Joe (JSmith) is as hot as I was led to believe. More so in fact, since I had not seen a good shot of his eyes before actually meeting him. I'm not certain that his ass was worth flying 1700 miles just to gawk at, though his boyfriend's may have been. Note: I did not fly 1700 miles to see Joe's ass. Certain people who shall remain nameless (here at least) shamelessly admitted that they did.

3. Speaking of Joe and his boy-toy, I was distinctly glad that they were around for reasons other than the view. They have a lot thicker skin than I do; if I'd had to put up with anywhere near as much teasing as they did, there would have been words said that probably would have gotten banned from this site, given who I would have said them to.

That, and spending Saturday watching other people gawk at the pair provided no end of amusement.

4. Related to last note, I owe someone I work with an apology. A self-congratulatory and hypocritical portion of my personality was exposed to me. By Texans of all people. Young, student town Texans, but still...

I also am a bit out of practice when it comes to attention coming my way. A f**king kid made me scuttle out of a room just by smiling at me. I blame that on the jet lag, but it was still annoying.

5. When you are talking to someone three sheets to the wind, the answer is always yes. It doesn't matter what the question is that you are saying yes to, because odds are good they won't remember the question by the time you answer it, let alone your answer by the time they're sober. How are people not aware of this?

6. Another highlight of the trip: Joe realizing that Shadowgod and I, between us, knew almost as much country word for word as he did. That and Joe getting buzzed enough to actually sing some of these songs. Previously, he'd been paying pop and alternative as he ferried us about. After that, he switched to his real music. Sadly, this moment came upon us as we were forced to endure horribly screeched versions of our favorite songs. My head wasn't on the table in Myr's picture because I was crying. It was because the band was giving me a headache mere alcohol could not cure.

7. Sunday, I confirmed I was still an art history geek. The Dallas Museum of Art has a pretty nifty 1700-1900 French art collection. One room damn near sent me into a gibbering fit, and my brain switched into Student-Teacher mode without warning. Seriously; I wrote a lesson outline in my notebook that I keep on me. I really wish my cousin had been there with me for that part, as she can match me step for step in that subject, and it would have been cool to have the notes in her head as well as mine.

8. Drag queens are bigger in Texas. And smaller, shockingly enough. I still think Sonia should have won on skill alone, as the electric slide in heels could not have been easy.

Edit: 9. I need not have sacrificed my hair after all. Even though it is at the moment shorter than it has been any other time in the last year, I evidently still don't look Hispanic. I got the dirtiest looks from airport security at DFW.

Edit 2: 10. I had been under the impression that gay guys naturally gravitate to the clarinet. Thanks to Mason, I now know to watch for flautists and oboists.

I read no less than six books since leaving my apartment Thursday. I took four with me, and bought two more while in Dallas. They were, in order, Mercedes Lackey's Fortune's Fool, Meg Cabot's Big Boned, Lois McMaster Bujold's Sharing Knife: Beguilement and Legacy, Esther Friesner's Nobody's Princess, and Tanya Huff's Smoke and Shadows. I'm not going to attempt analysis while jet-lagged, but I will say on the two Bujold novels: what the f**K? You know your shit woman, did you phone this one in or something? Was it meant to be one book that ran long? Because you've done that before, and did it a hell of a lot better. The climax goes at the end of the book, not the first fifty pages. And if the main threat is supposed to be the culture clash between the main characters, you've done that before better as well. In fact, there are a number of parallels between the Sharing Knife books and the Cordelia's Honor duology. If you were trying to make up for the lackluster sales of your first novel, prove you could do it right this time, sweetheart, move on. Without the humor, it doesn't hold together.