We are on the cusp of a new era and I’m not hyping the failed Rapture. This one is far more personal. Tomorrow I am voluntarily going to Texas. Now before any loyal Texans try to slap me down…I said this was personal.

I don’t do the Lone Star state. Ever. It’s a rule. My rule. You don’t need to know why, I said it was personal.

The last time I physically invaded the panhandle was when my-not-yet-husband motored us across en route from Lousiana. It was our first date. A doozy of a date that lasted five weeks, covered more than 10,000 miles, twenty states, five Canadian provinces, a lot of roadkill, and the aforesaid stepping across the stateline. Alert observers sniffed the air and knew something big was afoot. Rumors abounded.

She went there. Where? Texas. OMFG. Document this now. I already did.

So, here we are again, on the leading edge of BIG doings. You know it’s gotta be good if I’m willingly going to Texas. Note the date for posterity. Like I said, there’ll be no Rapture-like manifestations to impact your life, but this is noteworthy in my world. Why am I going? I already said it’s personal and that means you don’t get to know.

But it’s so cool it sucks unicorn.