The Lone(ly) Star State

I’m writing today, for the first time in a while, from a totally new location. This summer I’m living in Dallas (yeehaw!) because of an internship I have at KERA, North Texas’s NPR affiliate. Until mid-April, my plans this summer were very uncertain. I started applying for summer internships in October 2023, and 35 applications later (no exaggeration!) I accepted this internship. I have friends studying abroad in Japan, Belgium and Austria this year, so I joke that this is my study abroad program. 

I had never been to Texas until my new roommate picked me up from the airport two weeks ago. We found each other thanks to a happy coincidence: she was looking for a new short-term roommate and I had suddenly found myself with a job in Dallas and needing a place to live. It’s going superbly so far. Despite being roughly my mom’s age, we get along great and she’s been very welcoming. My first weekend, she took me on a tour of local gardens with her gardening group. As trite as it may sound, I’m a bit of an old soul, and I’ve always tended to connect with people older than me as well as my peers. 

I have two rooms in a cute house with an amazing garden that’s too long of a walk from a park, a library and a pharmacy – all the essentials. Being car-less, I’m forced to live very intentionally. When it’s 90% humidity you can’t just pop out to the store on a whim. So I make calculated, sunscreen-saturated journeys early in the day or later in the afternoon. I’ve also gotten the hang of public transportation, which is very new to me. I still find it slightly stressful and very closely follow the path of my bus in the DART app so I don’t miss my stop, but I’d like to eventually be able to relax enough to read on my commute to work. On my first jaunt into downtown, I realized that there were two separate trains, each going in a different direction, and that I had gotten onto the wrong one. Speeding further and further from my intended destination put the fear of God into me such that I will never make that mistake again. It’s the southbound Red Line! 

Here are some other things I’ve learned so far:

• Chiggers are bad. Some people put powdered sulfur in a sock and dust it over their shoes and legs on hikes or walks through brush where you have a higher risk of getting bit. I would much rather smell like sulfur than get bitten.

• Buses don’t necessarily stop just because you’re standing at the bus stop. If you don’t indicate you’re waiting to be picked up, they might drive right past you (that one stung a little). 

• It rains here a lot! And hails! I’m used to southern California heat, which is hot and dry or occasionally hot and humid, but I’m not used to intermittent thunder storms that flood my street and then subside in half an hour. 

The weather alone deserves its own paragraph. Labor day weekend saw the most intense storm I have ever experienced, which isn't much considering I was born and raised in balmy SoCal. But hearing a tornado siren for the first time is incredibly jarring if you're not expecting it! We had wind up to 80 mph, thunder that actually shook my walls, and yes, the National Weather Service advised us to be wary of "baseball size hail." There are two giant trees down on my block alone. I must be brave in front of native Texans, but I have no qualms about lamenting on the internet.

Since I’m only here for a few months, I didn’t bring much. Living so minimally has been incredibly relaxing, so much so that I’m almost inspired to sell half my stuff when I get back to my college apartment. Here’s what I have:

• A business casual capsule wardrobe

• Eight books (two read so far)

• A foam mattress 

• A desk I nabbed off of Facebook Marketplace

• A backpack of KERA swag 

• Three CDs (I forgot my portable CD player so they’re essentially useless)

• Some houseplants, courtesy of my roommate 

• A few other odds and ends

Despite living apart from my parents for most of the year, holding a “real” job and now paying my own rent, I often feel like I’m playacting adulthood. It’s like my thirteen-year-old self is watching my twenty-year-old self perform Adulthood, the hit play coming to theaters near you soon. Sometimes it’s a musical.  It’s like when I used to steal my mom’s robe and reading glasses as a toddler and pretend to order my dad around. Even now, when I’m writing a grocery list or driving myself to a doctor’s appointment or, on rare occasions, watching an R-rated movie, I feel the urge to look over my shoulder for a nod of approval from someone older and wiser. 

I still have four-and-a-half years before my frontal lobe is technically fully developed, so maybe this will subside over time. But I’m sure you could easily find someone in their thirties who is still wondering whether they should have access to a credit card or the ability to go to Disneyland whenever they want. 

I’m now halfway through college, and close enough to graduation that I can almost picture a future where I’m not working towards my next academic accolade. This summer is sort of a trial run for post-graduation life. I’m only working twenty hours a week right now, and adult jobs don’t give you homework (did you know that?? kidding!) so I have what feels like endless time to do whatever I want. Even though I was finishing final projects and studying ten hours a day less than a month ago, I’ve already forgotten what it’s like to be so busy. 

My third day of work!

Instead of giving myself a hard time for not being able to relax, I’ve accepted that I thrive on a relatively full schedule. The important distinction I have to make is: do I like being busy or can I not stand being still? Am I actively enjoying the way I’m spending my time or am I distracting myself? Since I just moved to a new city where I don’t know anyone and have lots of free time, I don’t want to be alone in my house all day. 

So I signed up to help with kid’s programs at the library, I’m learning how to code, I just picked up a couple shifts as a barista, and I might even glimpse an adult martial arts class in my future. I’m leagues happier when I’m learning something new than when I’m wandering my house (wandering outside isn’t really an option in 90% humidity). 

The hardest time is around 8 p.m., when I would normally be with my friends from school, watching music videos on our couch or taking walks in a more welcoming climate. I have yet to make close friends my age, and don't really expect to forge a soul tie in the next two months, but I do miss the comradery I have with other twenty-somethings. That's just the way things are when you go to an out-of-state school and decide to go on a solo adventure for the summer. It's bittersweet.

Even if I’m pretending to be a real adult, I’m doing a convincing enough job that I even fool myself most days. If only there was a saying I could apply to this approach. Something about faking it until you make it…?

Cover Photo Cred Anna Bencze via Flickr