Austin

This story begins in a few days prior to the fourth of July, 2008. My roommate Jeremy and his fiance had plans of moving to Austin, Texas. Having no friends and little family in the area, but eager to live in the land without winter, Jeremy worked his hardest all year to convince me that Austin was the land of magic. Beautiful women, cars that run on good intentions, and friendly bicyclists that wheelie through loop-d-loops built right into the sidewalk mingle with videogame testers who are always in high demand at great pay; Jeremy had me going that Austin was the hippest town on earth.
My review: Austin is like the head shop district of San Fransisco spread out over about 50 square miles of the plainest Texas terrain imaginable, then filled in with chain stores at all the blank spots. It was also about 190 degrees in the shade, everybody drove SUVs, and people stared at me when they heard my northern accent. Not my kind of place.
I sent out a few resumes and looked at apartments with Jeremy and his ilk, but nothing too serious. I might change my mind once I get a car, Texan accent, and an immunity to being baked alive.
And the search continues.