The Horror!

         Flying from Portland to Houston was no biggie, this trip was going to be a breeze! Having to get up at 2:30 that morning to make it out to the airport, I drifted in and out of sleep during the flight, only alternating with my Bossypants book that I saved to read especially for that trip (Tina Fey is a genius). The flight attendant announces we are beginning our descent, so I look out the window. Holy Wow! There are TREES! and there is WATER! This is really Texas? But there are trees here... Knowing this wasn't my final destination I just hoped and prayed that there would be trees where I was going. Houston's airport was HUGE. I of course measure airport size by whether or not you have to take one of those zippy train things to your next gate, and Houston was one of those. People everywhere, shops everywhere, signs everywhere...all I needed was a bathroom. I finally find one that didn't have a monster line and that is when I heard it. My God! They are playing country music over the speakers in the airport! With all the chaos out in the halls I hadn't noticed! Holy Shit....I'm in the South. Totally beside myself and a little delirious, on to the zippy train thing I went to find the last leg of my journey.
        Finding my next gate, and having calmed down a bit from the traumatic country in the bathroom incident, I nestled up with my Bossypants and I began to notice people...Texans I presume. Now, I knew the next plane was one of those small ones--I was hoping it was a small one with jets and not propellers because for some reason propellers scare me. I probably had a nightmare once where I was in a plane crash where the plane had propellers, otherwise I cannot really explain my intense distrust of propellers. But regardless of the type of engines it had, I had to get on the plane, and the size meant that there were going to be quite a few less people on it. How was our little snapshot of a group going to be representative of Texas I wondered?
        First spotted: a business looking man wearing a real cowboy hat and snakeskin cowboy boots! It is at this time I texted my best friend to tell her of not only the horror in the bathroom but also my first cowboy sighting! Of course she loves country music, and therefore did not share in my horror. I instead picture her sitting there drumming her fingertips together like Mr. Burns from the Simpsons, giggling to herself and saying in a sinister way "My plan is underway, she WILL love country music." Noticing that the only good stations that come through on the radio down here are in fact country, I would say she has a pretty tight-knit plan, and I can feel myself beginning to enjoy it [cue--shiver down spine]. In addition to Mr. Cowboy, I notice an interesting couple sporting some quality mullets. Now these are not new to me, people still have these in Oregon too, we just usually assume they originate from a shallow gene pool of some sorts. They seem harmless...until a huge group of equally crazy looking people begins to form around them. Oh that's odd...They are all wearing the same shirts that say "Ambassadors to the Nations"...there are Bible verses on some. [If you do not believe me, I have provided the link to this organization below, which also features an image of the same couple I saw, who it turns out are the founders of the organization.] There are people of every age with them, and besides all of their t-shirts matching, they all also have the same heavy Southern accent, a stereotype which I had stock piled away as I mentioned earlier. Although I was scared of them and wanted to avoid eye-contact, because they were obviously into some heavy Bible loving, I could not look away....oh my goodness they are going to be on the plane with me.
        Perhaps the ONLY thing that could have distracted my attention away from the mullet group, was that of this adorable toddler. Well, he was only adorable when he did not walk or run. Why is that you ask?! Pause...you know those fun pet toys that when you squeeze them or the pet bites them there is a cute little squeek? Well imagine placing that same squeeker in the bottom of each of these toddler's shoes. YES! That's right! Guess who is not getting mother of the year award! Who in their right mind buys their toddler shoes that squeek with each step?! This little boy obviously loved to run and it was probably because he found the sound amusing. Was this a ploy to keep him exercising? I would definitely not walk anywhere if I knew my shoes were going to squeek with each step. Apparently I and this little boy were different. The only thought bringing me peace, was knowing that on the plane, he would have to be buckled and seated the whole freaking time.
        We are boarding!!! Next stop husband and hopefully a part of Texas with trees! So I, along with Cowboy, mullet group, and squeeker board the plane and we are up and away. I get right into my Bossypants and am reading such funny chapters/am so deliriously tired that I can't help but giggle to myself out loud. My eyes are watering, my tummy is vibrating, I'm trying to keep my laughing quiet. Then I think, shoot, do these crazies think I am crazy!? Oh well, I am enjoying my Bossypants!! Cowboy is sleeping behind me, the mullet group is joking in their accents at the front of the plane, and the squeeker has fallen asleep all strapped in next to his mom across the aisle from me. Nothing is really interrupting my happiness....until I smell it! Those toxic fumes I know so well! The woman in front of me is painting her nails...literally pulls out her nail polish and paints her nails! REALLY?! I didn't know that was legal! Why isn't the flight attendant telling her to stop?! The fumes will surely kill us all in such a tiny aircraft! The Horror! After I calmed down, since she interrupted my Bossypants and caused me to have terrible day dreams where we all suffocate in this plane and I don't make it to my husband, I put away my "are you freaking kidding me face" and try to let it go. Letting things go is maybe the thing I am most horrible at, as anyone close to me would tell you. Did I confront her?! No, but I did give her the death glare through the back of her seat! That'll teach her! Perhaps most upsetting was the fact that I had seen her at the gate while examining everyone else, but had written her off as un-crazy instead of labeling her bitchy-diva, which she totally turned out to be on the plane. I swear there has to be a rule about nail polish being applied while in flight in the TSA code somewhere! Don't worry, I have let it go, can't you tell?! (I am clearly still outraged, beside myself, and will find that rule!)
         Well, our plane began to descend, my heart beating faster and faster, knowing that I would soon be reunited with my guy. But wait! Where did the trees go?! And the water?! Oh dear...this is a desert. Luckily I was so distracted with excitement for the reunion that the landscape barely phased me. It wouldn't be until later that I fully realized the temperature, types of foliage (because there are in fact some trees!), and that I was staying there. None of that mattered at the time though. Our motley crew, which I took to be a pretty representative snap-shot of where I was going, and which would not have been complete without the late addition of bitchy-diva, exited the plane, got our bags, and after a short wait, there he was.

**As promised the link below includes an image of the leaders of the mullet group. It looks like they actually do some nice work for other people, and are dedicated, however I would take them more seriously if they updated their style...perhaps evidence of my shallow nature...take it as you will. Enjoy.        http://www.ambassadorstothenations.com/About_Us.html

My Undertaking

          Foreign endeavors you say?... So she is traveling? Yes. To a foreign country? I would say it counts...well ok, it's just another state, but it might as well be a different country. I have found myself in Texas which is quite a change from the great northwest state of Oregon where I have lived my entire 22 (almost 23) years. Of course before leaving the beautiful Portland, my mind was stock piled with southern stereotypes, fears of a drastic climate change, and anticipations of having to buy numerous hair products-in bulk-to keep my thick curly hair under control. All of which, later I will tell you were mostly accurate stock pilings.
           Of course the locale is not the only foreign element to me currently, it is just one among many.  A little over 2 months ago, on a beautiful April day in Oregon, I married my best friend. I was told it would be unlikely beautiful, because lets face it, it rains in Oregon...a lot, but aghast! the skies opened up and it was blue skies and sunshine smiling on us all day. This is the man who on New Years Eve let me wear his shoes instead of my 4 inch heels, that were of course killing my feet, to walk quite a few blocks back from the bar as he walked the streets of Portland in just his socks (as my Best Friend/Maid of Honor shared in her amazing wedding toast). Besides being a newlywed, a new college graduate, now living with a boy (eww), and having our own house, I am also entering the culture that is the US Military and military spouses as they (we?) are called; much, much more about this phenomenon later. Needless to say, a lot of changes happening at once and I need a constructive way to "freak out" about them.

Our very first home here in Texas. Let the endeavors begin!

           So, it is here I wish to share my new, exciting, overwhelming, and hopefully hilarious endeavors with you, all of which will surely have some foreign element to it. My undertaking here is three fold; first, to document this grand adventure that will become a very significant time in my life. I say "adventure" because this is the term my family and friends used in their reassurances when I was constantly biting my nails and pacing about moving to Texas and being a "grown-up". Second, I love writing and now without school for the first time in 17 years, I have less opportunities to write unless I take it on myself. I also like to believe that I have interesting and important things to say through this writing; you will be the judge. And third, to tell some amusing stories, because anyone who knows me understands that I am a little bit ridiculous and a lot bit dramatic. So please, family and friends, sit back and enjoy my foreign endeavors as I take on "grown-up" life. I mean, how foreign could it be?