You can take the girl out of the PNW…

But you can’t take the PNW out of the girl.  The PNW, if you don’t know, is the Pacific Northwest.  That’s where I’m from originally.  I grew up in a small town in the Willamette valley.  I grew up primitive camping, white water rafting, fishing, hiking, dirt biking, trail dirt biking, exploring caves and lava tubes, and all sorts of fun outdoor stuff.  I grew up in nature.  Nature was where I was happy.

I’m not sure what happened, but during my teenage years I just couldn’t wait to get out of my little dead end town.  I guess seeing all the wannabe gang-bangers, the drug use, the teen pregnancies…it all wore me down and disenchanted me from the small town life.  I couldn’t wait to get out and see the world and big cities.  I joined the Army and sort of traveled the world.  I was stationed in Missouri, South Carolina, Washington DC and South Korea.  If I hadn’t met a guy that was stationed in Texas a couple months before I was discharged, I would have never moved here when I got out of the Army.  I would have stayed in Oregon. 

Instead, I moved to Texas for a sham of a relationship that ended quicker than it started.  And then I was stuck here.

Every time I go visit my family in Oregon and Washington, it gets harder and harder for me to leave.  If you read my blog for the second week of my Oregon vacation for this year, you might remember me saying to myself as I drove through west Texas that I was almost home and then immediately responding to myself that no, no I wasn’t because home is where the heart is and my heart is most definitely NOT in Texas.  It’s in Oregon, with my family and all my friends from when I was younger. 

Then, a little over a week later, as I was walking around before my therapy appointment, I realized…I hate Texas.  I seriously hate Texas.  I feel trapped in my job and therefore trapped in Texas.  It gets so hot here.  It’s not pretty.  I’m tired of the big city, too.

I discovered when I was staying the night at my brother’s house…which was built in 1908…I love and miss being in an old house.  There’s so much character.  They are just so…oh I don’t know…so much better in my opinion.  They’re more personal.  They’re not cookie cutter and slapped together in a month.  And I can have all the windows replaced with energy efficient windows.  But I want a wood burning stove.  And I want random rooms that you can’t figure out what exactly they’re for.  I don’t want a dishwasher (I don’t use the one I have right now except as a place to dry my dishes…ha!).  I want a large porch.  I’d love to have an old shed or small barn in the backyard maybe.

I’ve been thinking about retirement a lot lately.  I can’t wait to retire.  I have so many plans already.  The main one is moving back to the pacific northwest.  I want to find a place that’s 30-ish minutes from my brother and about an hour from my best friend, Patricia’s house and about 2 hours from my parents and other brother.  It’s the bright light at the end of the long dark tunnel that is my life in Texas.  I’m not trying to be negative and I know a lot of people love Texas and their lives here.  But I don’t.  I haven’t for a long time, but I’ve been denying it to myself…trying to ignore it with the hopes that it would go away.  All I was doing was making myself miserable.  Now that I’ve made the realizations and spoken them aloud, I feel freer.  I feel more positive and hopeful.  Knowing how I feel about Texas and my living here, makes moving back to the pacific northwest that much sweeter.  I will always be a PNW girl at heart.  Always.