"Texas is a state of mind. Texas is an obsession. Above all, Texas is a nation in every sense of the word. A Texan outside of Texas is a foreigner."

The first time I drove into Texas was in March of 2007. My husband had an audition at the University of North Texas and as a devoted (and a somewhat controlling) wife, I felt the need to accompany him to our possible future home.

The 450 mile trip had taken us from the crisp end of a Missouri winter to the luscious and colorful beginning of a Texas spring. As a lover of all things warm, I was delighted when I stepped out of the car and felt the sun shining on my skin. (It was the perfect time of year for my favorite ensemble of clothing: jeans, a hoodie, and flip flops.) The crepe myrtles were in full bloom, the grass was Ireland-green, and there was next-to-no humidity. "Wow," I thought, "I can do this."

Little did I know, Texas springs last for about two weeks. Summers last for five months. Winters are brown. There is no such thing as Autumn. The Four Seasons is a resort at 4150 Macarthur Boulevard in Irving.

John Steinbeck, pulitzer and nobel prize winning author of The Grapes of Wrath, almost hit the nail on the head when he stated that "a Texan outside of Texas is a foreigner." What may be more accurate to say is that a non-Texan in Texas is a foreigner.

Call it alien, exotic, or unnatural, but one thing is for sure: one year of living in Texas has been ample time to realize that I just don't quite belong. Thus begins my ramblings of being a Midwest girl in Texas: things I love, hate, and am baffled by.