Monday, 27 August 2012

Guest Blogger - Sarah: The Texas Diaries.






Ellen’s blog has been hijacked today by me, her carnivore pal, so I can share with all y’all the story of how I met my new bad-ass boyfriend: Texas. This blog is rated M for "May contain Meat". *
Tex-ass, on paper, is ALL WRONG for me - or at least the version of me I would answer on a questionnaire: modest, small carbon footprint, liberal. Oh stop laughing Ellen.  Texas is none of these admirable things, but I still got a big ole crush on him. 
The setting: 3 university pals reunite in a Houston suburb for a girlie weekend sans spouses and spawn. This meant liberal amounts of  f-bombs in every sentence (why say it just once?), spying on your teenage kids’ facebook pages from 5000 miles away and fighting the urge to comment on their half-naked photos.
There was much flatulence and reverence of English period dramas – YES ELLEN THESE ARE YOUR PEOPLE!!
We also watched the Honey Badger 100 times on You Tube. You’re welcome: 



Chapter 1.  The New Boyfriend has a Security Detail:  Ye Olde Scrappy Delta Flight Crew
A Pilot who commandeers the PA system to announce that he’s a seasoned vet who is ‘Gonna fly this plane like I stole it!’ plus a Delta flight attendant loudly reprimanding lady in front of me and my travel buddy for asking us ‘Why the hell we would want to visit Houston?’  

I’m intrigued…. and I haven’t even met him yet!!


Getting kicked out of first class


bridesmaids

Arrival at He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named (OK, I’ll say it - George Bush Intercontinental Airport), the new boyfriend knows how to treat a lady.


Kabir


Chapter 2. My new Boyfriend is HOT! 
Being outside in Houston in July is like breathing soup.  Ellen and I do NOT like to be hot and sweaty. Ever.


The only souls outside are pool boys and gardeners who tend to my friend’s home:

Tara


Now I know some of you are thinking girl weekend plus pool boy = meat (as referenced in opening disclaimer).  We’ll get to the meat.  As an aside, let’s talk about how our Houston hostess, a transplanted Canadian, camouflages herself to blend in.  My new bf does loves to play dress-up:

Camo for Canucks in Texas
  1. Do NOT say ‘about’. Ever. Yes we know it sounds normal to you.
  2. Semper Ubi Spirit Ubi! Always wear spirit wear while attending your child’s football or baseball game! My hostess pal the big rebel did not do the patriotic thing and ‘jingo-ize’ her sprit wear with a US flag but she does get points for using a bedazzler:

  1. Say ‘restroom’ and not ‘washroom’. Are you a savage?
  2. Do not drive a Prius or compact like some pinko commie. Gas is good.
  3. Do not declare your love for Obama.  Or helmets.



4. Casually mention that all y’all were fixing to go Buc-ee's. 




Chapter 3.  Is it just a crush? What turned ‘like’ into ‘love’: BUC-EE'S.



IF they ever invented a shrine to Texas excess it could be encapsulated in the 68,000 square feet of fabulous and unfathomable that is Buc’ees – a small chain of roadside convenience stores (do not make my mistake and call it a truck stop) that we hit on our journey to San Antonio.

                              Crush-worthy facts:
1.There are 80 soda fountains. 
2.Two words: Jerky Bar

Yes. Jerky Bar.

3.Three words: BBQ brisket Sammy:


4.Three letters: BLT



5. Shitter’s full!  Not at the Buc-ee's …34 individual stalls with green and red vacancy lights and local artwork.  You have not truly enjoyed a truck stop throne until you have arrived at the Buc-ee's Beaver.
No giggling toddlers peeking under the stalls here, each pod is fully contained, spotless and I think I detected a waft of lavender.  


Chapter 4. Other things I love about my new boyfriend:

  1. The original lazy river, complete with camo coolers and rednecks.  This was truly awesome.














Camo Cooler






  1. San Antonio.  It’s like finding out that your new Harley-riding-redneck-boyfriend can also speak ITALIAN!  San Antonio is like Venice got dropped in the middle of the biggest ranch in the world.  Oh and it’s home to the Alamo where I guess something famous happened.  History shmistory. We didn’t go to there, why would we go there when we could stay here?? 

Mokara Hotel






1.Shopping


                                  2. Fried things.


deep fried pickles


Chapter 5. It would never really work. Why my parents/wonderful friends will NOT love my new boyfriend


Ellen would only include him at dinner parties begrudgingly.




antler utensils



He lets bumper stickers speak for him.







Some other little things that my boyfriend did that sort of irritated me: 

I had no actual sightings of Texans with Big Haarr. This may be a dealbreaker. 




Mariachi bands.  Does anyone actually like Mariachi?  Or mimes?   





Chapter 6.  If dreams were reality and Texas took on a human form….
While on the road to San Antonio, our Houston hostess suddenly looked in her rearview mirror and said ‘Holy Shit!!”  We all spun around and this was the view from the back of SUV. Well, ok this is a re-enactment of the blond rock star god we all three witnessed. No helmet, natch. But this is this best I could do since I could not get my jaw off the floor and my camera out fast enough. Note to self: ‘riding’ not an awesome search word for Google images. *shudder*.




Anyway, this is exactly how I will remember my new bf Texas…





you may hate his politics, his morals, but this Honey Badger don’t give a shit.

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