I have my reasons for not ever wanting to live in Utah. It's not that I think Utah is a bad place or anything and I'm not trying to knock the Utahns but if I had a choice (and I do thank you very much), I would not live there. Here's why:
The street you live on, the street behind you, and the street in front of you are your entire ward. I need a little space. I need a lot of space. I don't like people all up in my bid-ness all the time.
Women take their baby strollers EVERYWHERE. The skating rink, for instance is no place for a baby stroller.
No handrails at the skating rink...I ran into the wall a lot.
Play-sure. May-sure. Tray-sure.
I still get horrified when I hear about serial killers and sick psychos in Utah. It's naive and completely untrue I know, but I still have it in the back of my head somewhere that Utahns are perfect, church going, kind, Christlike Mormons...all of them.
The dryness. I was thirsty the ENTIRE weekend.
One of the members of the bishopric bore his testimony Sunday that ketchup and grape jelly makes the best barbecue sauce. It took everything I had to not stand up right then and call that man to repentance for preaching false doctrine from the pulpit. I did, however, sit there and stare at him while shaking my head back and forth.
On the other hand, here are a few reasons why I could live in Utah:
No crab grass.
My sister and her adorable babies.
The minute I stepped off the plane at DFW, my pores immediately clogged up and my face did it's favorite trick: Insta-grease.
So that's all...the end.