It's been a less than thrilling week in Amarillo. The routine: get up, study, spend too much time on Facebook, watch the sunset, go to bed. Seven whole days. The maid has become my best friend. Except she doesn't speak English and I don't speak Spanish, so our relationship centres around her knocking on the door, saying 'cleaning' and me smiling profusely, nodding my head and leaving for the gym. So, despite my deep connections to the place, it's time to leave Amarillo. Nik, sorry to say there hasn't been time to visit the 47ft tin cowboy. But Oklahoma, where the winds come sweeping down the plains, is calling. Before I leave, here are some of high and low points of the past two and a half months: Most overused word in one conversation: "Y'all". It
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