This week’s Sticky Fingers Gallery prompt is ‘Shapes’, so I scoured the archives and found this shot, taken inside The Texas State Capitol building, in Austin, Texas.
I travelled to the Lone Star State in Feb 2007. My Dad and Step-Mum were travelling over from NZ to visit my Step-Brother in Texas, and it seemed like a perfect half-way point to meet up. Plus, OH and I had decided that later in the year we would try to get pregnant, so I figured this would be one of my last chances to travel with no strings attached.
Texas fascinated me. That saying: ‘Everything’s Bigger in Texas?’. True. The people, the personalities, the cars (Chevrolets and Dodges are absolutely mahoosive!) And, of course, the meals. While still in Austin we went for dinner one night at a place called The County Line and had the most a-ma-zing sticky ribs, with corn, and coleslaw, and ice-cold beer. My God, I don’t think I’ve ever been so full.
I totally fell in love with the Tex-Mex food there too – including the delish Agave tequila Margaritas.
The next day my step-brother (who, I must point out, is a good decade younger than me) and I proceeded to reminisce over a bottle of duty-free vodka, and a packet of Malboro Lights, until the sun came up. I then spent the entire next day dragging my sorry butt around a discount shopping mall desperately trying not to throw up.
You’d have thought I’d learnt my lesson, but two days later we travelled to San Antonio where, to celebrate not feeling hungover anymore, we visited a bar on the River Walk, got rip-roaring drunk then ended up dancing on the bar at Coyote Ugly.
The next day I flew home. You probably could have powered the Boeing 747 half way home with just the ethanol on my breath.
Sadly (or thankfully?) that was one of my very last crazy, boozy nights. By the same time the following year I was less ‘wild child’ and more ‘with child’.
That very child is pictured below, and is also rocking this week’s Shapes theme. It was taken on my next holiday – a much more sedate family trip to Widemouth Bay, Cornwall, that involved absolutely no vodka, cigarettes, or bar-top dancing. Shame.