Ha, I warned you all that turtles complete life journeys in between my blog posts. I'm working on that. For lent I gave up procrastination, well, that's my goal for lent 2012.
So on to the subject, eh? Every March, Houston, Texas becomes every cowboy's fantasy. Bulls, cows, steers and finally, cute cowgirls. The Houston Rodeo just might be one of the current modern wonders of the world.
Last spring I had my first taste of this event. I threw on the closest thing I have to a western shirt and laughed when someone asked if I was going to wear my cowboy boots. I've never ridden a horse or shot a gun, cowboy boots would likely shrivel up in shame upon me touching them.
So I set off with a few friends towards the ginormous Relient Stadium complex (complete with the defunct, ugly old Astrodome right next door).
I'll give you all a quick run-down of how entering the Houston Rodeo goes:
- Pay waaay too much for parking, then walk about 5 miles to the midway gate, which is still about 6 miles from the actual stadium.
- Practice your Heisman moves as you work through the massive crowd. Small children tend to run at will here, if you step on one, or kick one, run away quickly. If the parent/guardian actually makes eye contact with you, point accusingly at a nearby stranger who seems less agile than you (seniors with walkers are my go-to's on this).
- Sub note: while zipping through the crowd, keep an eye out for golf carts and listen for their honking. They don't slow down, never stop and if you get hit, you'll be lucky if they radio for medical assistance as they fly towards their own Rodeo Emergency. Additionally, watch out for cowboys with boot spurs or wear shin guards.
- Try to only grab two pieces of carnival food. Stay away from the booth that fries anything that ever exsisted. I learned that the hard way
- Me: Umm, fried Snickers bar? Jackpot! Free carton of fried Oreos with a double purchase? Hell ya! No way this could be a terrible idea. Definitely no way this could lead to me consuming my next 10 years worth of calories.
- Stomach: I give up on you. Seriously, I give up on you.
- Stumble to the stadium gate with your yard-long twist margarita. Remind yourself it's completely manly because you saw a extremely manly cowgirl drinking one. Try not to cry when you remember her and her friends laughing at you.
- Herd through the gate like cattle (Ironic, right? Herding like cows into the rodeo? Take that Alanis!) P.S. remember those fried treats you accidentally fell on and inhaled on the midway? They will begin a battle royale with your stomach as you climb a mile into the air to get to the nose bleed seats for which you paid $18.
- Prepare to feel like you are actually a Texan for 3 hours.
Tomorrow I'll share more, like how the rodeo reminds awkward teenagers that everyone really is pointing and laughing at them and how some parents in Texas have perfected the art of emotionally scarring their children with out having someone call CPS on them.
Additionally, I have a new roommate living on my couch. I'll name him in my next blog because I'm quite positive my future stories will include him.
I went to a rodeo in texas once as a kid. I liked that clowns got chased by bulls. Now, if only the bulls had won...
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