If you're in my family (which I, of course, am), the summer rodeo season is now in full force. I am only involved by way of being appreciative of the western heritage and, more importantly, a supportive sister (My sister is the last one, and, yes, her bio is amazing and does not make me want to gag like some of the others do. I helped her write it, but whoever typed it up changed a couple of things... which does not please me at all).
In any case, last night I went to the first night of the Utah High School Rodeo Association Finals to watch my cousin ride, and it started all over again. And by that I mean:
1. My whole-hearted belief that rodeo hamburgers are The Best. Like, the best hamburgers, and way up there on my list of favorite foods. What is different about them? I don't have a clue. But, I do know that I will elatedly eat far more hamburgers in the next two months than I will eat during the rest of the year.
2. Every time I watch the bull riding I have a tiny little glimpse of a childhood dream; as a child I firmly believed that I would marry a bull-rider. This lasted until I watched the movie 8 Seconds (if that movie doesn't make you cry, I may have to question whether or not you have a soul/beating heart).
3. The song "Rodeo" by Garth Brooks makes my heart leap up into my throat and I start breathing extra fast. Sometimes it literally brings tears to my eyes. This is not a normal occurrence for me, I swear, it's just this song. It sort of freaks my apathetic little heart out that this happens.
I know, I know... that is why the post is titled "Confessions."
6 comments:
Oh wow, this is a side of you I never would have supposed! I remember going to a rodeo once when I was a kid (in Alaska) and it was pretty cool, but I don't think I've ever know any real life rodeo affectionados.
And I typically make fun of people who cry during country songs. But I may make an exception here (but probably not).
Um Martina is not only the least sappy of all the queens on there but also hands down the best looking ... don't tell the other ladies but some of those pictures are downright alarming. Go Martina!
Also isn't it so interesting how childhood passions stick with us for so long? I will always always think that this obscure Mary Kay perfume that my mom wore when I was little is the best scent in the world, that Leader of the Band is a song worth knowing because my dad took the time to make me learn every word, and that I HAVE to kiss the man of my dreams in a blue sparkly dress like Ariel's at the end of Little Mermaid.
Okay maybe not so much the last one, but main point -- I hear what your saying chicka and I love your blog!
Rodeo's are great! 'Confession' is not the right term. Try maybe using something like 'My Bragging Rights!"
Sad Story, I am going to miss all the Lehi Round Up this year.
CoolBoy: I'm glad that it's a secret side of me... if you knew all of that just by looking at me... yikes! Also- I might have lied and maybe tear up at lots of songs... bring it! ;)
Lauren: Thank you! You are a kindred spirit if I've ever met one! Also- do kiss the man of your dreams in a sparkly blue dress. Do it.
Casey: "My Bragging Rights"- you're too kind :) The Round Up won't be the same without you, and I will miss you... BUT I don't feel bad for you at all since you'll be in ARUBA!
I would just like to say:
It's the boots and the blood
And the steers and the mud
And they call the thing Rodeo!!
And one day I would like to try these famous rodeo burgers.
And finally, there was a guy in my Santaquin ward who rode bulls and was gored. I will never forget the blue-vest-thing they made him wear while he healed (or how disturbingly tight rodeo men's wranglers are)
Does your rodeo man have a mullet in your fantasies? Most of the rodeo men I knew at the time you feel for them did.
That is all.
Dang those hamburgers are good. I cannot wait for some. I definitely agree they are way better than any other burger. I feel similarly about your other confessions as well. Don't forget to get your ticket for July 3! I want to watch the rodeo with you.
Post a Comment