Connecticut

The part of Connecticut I'm staying in with Frank is extremely picturesque. There are hills and forests and grass everywhere, and we drive down little winding New England country roads. This is an incredible contrast to where I am from, Plano, Texas, which is the Levittown of the new millennium: flat land, straight 90-degree-angle roads, and rows and rows of endless factory-manufactured cookie-cutter houses that come in only three different colors, packed tightly together, with a grocery store and/or Starbucks at every major intersection. I guess that's picturesque too, in a creepy, bare, empty, Stanley Kubrick kind of way. I haven't even so much as seen a McDonald's here yet. Apparently the closest one is 4.3 miles away, in another town.

And that's what I love about Connecticut.