Daily Archives: June 28, 2007

Albuquerque is a strange, mysterious lady. In my youth I’d shove my fist into it’s face because I was so frustrated with constant ineptitude, lack of culture, and no future. I had a feeling that my window of opportunity to do something grand and important did not exist in New Mexico.

Predictably, I hightailed it out of there as soon as I could. I found a college in Illinois that was both physically and emotionally distant from New Mexico. I’d go back for holidays, convinced each trip would be my last.

As always, I was wrong. And with mounting excitement, I prepared for my reunion with the good ole Burque. In my quiet moments I would recall my favorite restaurants and parks. I would hear a song and it would take me back to my night drives through Tijeras with my windows down and my hand riding the wind.

And as the time came to land on the tarmac, my reality became topsy-turvy. I can’t quite pinpoint what changed, though I suspect we both did. I’ve lived a bit, seen some sights, read a few books, and changed my expectations. Albuquerque has also developed a bit, while keeping its endearing qualities.

Laying down to sleep with the gentle desert air cooling me down, I started to mull over the idea of living there again. I was startled by how deeply I appreciated the city: the heritage and culture, the food, the colors, the flat roofed adobe houses. I felt immediately reconnected with friends and was surprised by kind conversations with strangers. It felt light years away from Seattle, and it was perfect.

I’m still not sure where the future is. I’m aware I’ve romanticised Albuquerque because I was on vacation and I was able to stay in a beautiful house for which I was not paying a mortgage. But despite my rationality, my growing suspicion is “a life most enchanted” is not in Seattle. I am not sure if this makes me giddy or frightened.