I Give Tucson a Bad Rap

Yesterday evening was my last night of holiday vacation on the east coast, and my boyfriend and I went out to dinner with my godparents. I hadn't seen them in a long time, so they asked me all about graduate school and how I like living in Tucson. I found myself on autopilot, spewing my little rant about the ugly southwestern sprawl and how I dislike having to drive to get anywhere.
Later though, I realized I forgot to say how much I like the alternative artsiness that characterizes this little city, and how it is tinted by vibrant Mexican culture too. (Check out this cool photo I took from the Dia de los Muertos parade- a truly awesome experience.) I wake up to gorgeous mountains drenched in sunshine almost every day, and the people are liberal and earthy and interesting.

As I flew into Providence and drove into Boston over my break, I distinctly felt like I was coming home, and that New England is a deeply rooted part of who I am. But flying in over Tucson just a few hours ago, I experienced a genuine happiness to be back here too. It was exciting to find that I could recognize the geography from above. The wide, bone dry washes winding down the mountain sides and through the residential areas told me which direction I was flying in, so I could recognize which of the four mountain ranges I was looking at (the Catalinas). And when I touched down, all the saguaro cacti and palm trees welcomed me back to my new home. What a pleasant surprise, that I should be so glad to see Tucson!