Derailed Thoughts

Ode to the Wingman

May 11th, 2009

I finally made it to Houston! For the first time in my life, I’m living on my own in a real sense–as a matter of fact, I’m 25 hours away from life in Provo, if you drive. On a scale from 1 to “on your own”, I’m at least an 8.5. So far, living in the city looks pretty awesome. I’m about five minutes away from all the skyscrapers downtown.

Let me tell you, though, the first lesson I’ve learned living here: Life is weird without a wingman. Some of you already know that (if you’ve moved a lot, far more than I know it). For the rest of you, though, let me tell you that the first few weeks after moving (when everyone around you is an acquaintance that your brain is sure is named either Brant, Brent or Bryson and who you may or may not have introduced yourself twice to) is really a frustrating time for the social part of your brain.

There’s something awesome about being able to go into a party or any place, and knowing that if you make a fool of yourself you’ve still got backup. Heck, if you totally screw up every introduction all night, you’ve still got a buddy or two that you can head home with and watch a Redbox. Now that’s how things should be.

Here’s to a few good wingmen.

To all of my friends back in Utah land (not just those in the picture), I look forward to seeing you all again soon.

-Britton