17. Where are those Ewings???

26th December 2013, Dallas International Airport

I have had a fairly unhealthy obsession with visiting Dallas for as long as I can remember. I blame the Swedish 80's. Back then, Sweden only had two TV channels and at 8 a clock every Saturday night, Dallas the TV show was on.
Without exaggerating too much, all of Sweden spent this time watching said show - probably based on the limited TV channel selection already mentioned, as well as the fact that Swedish people don't really leave their houses when they don't have to and it being too dark to read in the winter time. Oh, and the internet wasn't invented yet (just tried explaining that one to my 9 year old niece who now calls me a liar).
When I say all of Sweden were watching it - that excludes young children who were sent to bed early on a Saturday and had to fall asleep to the theme tune of the show. It's not that I'm bitter but I am.

Early 90's however, the show reran in the afternoons, well before my bedtime and that's when I fell in love with JR. I was 8 and this is probably when my parents should have sent me to therapy. I believe that this would have saved us all circa 20 years of man drama.

Other than the fabulousness of JR - what is not to love about Dallas? It's the only show that could ever get away with killing a guy off and have it return after two years claiming it was all just a dream. It's also the show where the spoilt daughter hooks up with what turns out to be her uncle and that is never addressed - but that is besides the point.

Besides the TV related obsession, I also believe that I would be a success in Dallas. I love big hair, big cars, steak and cowboys. I'm basically born to be a Texas country singer with blue mascara. I really want to be able to pull off blue mascara.

And, what is really the biggest reason to visit Dallas is to see my favourite ex boss who abandoned me and London two years ago and now that I have almost forgiven him - it was time to go visit. And he played an amazing host just as expected (more on that later).

Immediately when landing in Dallas I caught myself loudly humming the Dallas theme tune. The bestie did not seem to appreciate it. Neither did the cabin crew, the pilot, the (very cranky) customs lady or the guy I bought  the huge pretzel from whilst waiting for my cab to the ex boss' house.
The cabbie however did not seem to mind. Then again I'm not sure he got the reference and he seemed mainly keen on discussing immigration laws in my homeland of Switzerland...

Finally in Dallas, all I now had to do was to find the Ewings! Or maybe at least a distant relative.