No bull.

So here I am, in sunny Fort Worth, Texas. Yeah, that's me over there, standing next to the steer with the triangle branded on its left flank.

Ah, Texas is okay. I mean, I was a little nervous, wondering whether a diehard Yankee liberal like me would be met by an angry mob of conservative cowpokes with pitchforks in their hands at the airport, but of course, that didn't happen. Everyone's been nice and quite polite. Maybe it helps that I left my Obama T-shirt at home (note: I did wear my Red Sox T-shirt on the way here, however).

Of course, since I'm at a conference, I haven't seen much of the scenery. Until last night, that is. We ate at a historic restaurant called the Reata restaurant that's built under a geodesic dome, and affords a beautiful view of the skyline. We took a walk after dinner, through the city, and checked out a few spots. Frankly, it was my favorite part of the trip. I'm all about the local color, after all.

I think the most memorable part of the trip has been my drives to and from the Dallas airport with my friend David. It was like something out of Thelma and Louise. I swear, the two of us were going to drive off a canyon at any moment.

You see, they really do like to grow things big in Texas, and their highways are no exception. They're huge and sprawling, which can be a bit overwhelming, but to make matters worse, the only things they don't seem to like to make big are their road signs. They're teeny tiny, and sometimes, non-existant. That's led to a lot of confusion, especially when we drove in at midnight the first night.

David would yell at me every time we'd pass a megachurch and I'd miss a turn. "Ted, what are you doing, what are you doing?"

I'd grit my teeth. "I'm trying the best I can, Dave!"

"Well, it's not good enough...oh god, now you're forcing us to drive onto George Bush highway. Kill me now!"

Somehow, we managed to make it into Fort Worth in one piece, by figuring out that we needed to take a left at the eighteenth megachurch we passed. See? Jesus saves.

So now I'm sitting here in my hotel room, staring at a framed painting of a bull.
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Check this one out...

For those who enjoy romance novels, I'd like to recommend my friend J.M. Cornwell's book, Past Imperfect.

I "met" J.M. a few years ago through Live Journal (a.k.a. fixnwrtr), and she quickly became one of my favorite posters. So, when I heard that her book had been published a few months ago, of course, I had to pick up a copy.

Even though I'm not a reader of romance normally, I'm glad I read her book. It reads just like the J.M. that I know and love on Live Journal: smart, confident, and eminently quotable. J.M. clearly has a love for the classics, and I especially liked her hints of Roman mythology within the story. And, her main character has a bathroom I would die for.

Since two of her main characters both fly planes (and do so frequently in the book), I thought it would be fitting to finish her book on my way to El Paso, and sure enough, I went through the last 100 pages in one sitting.

I won't give anything away, but let's just say that it's a book of love stolen and ultimately earned. And, the story ended up the way I hoped that it would, which pleased me to no end. I was going to scream bloody murder if it had gone in another direction...