on mutton bustin

So I'm sure you are all just dying know how Darius Rucker was.

And I'll get there eventually, but first we need to discuss some other business. 

I've mentioned in the last one to fifteen previous posts that Rodeo is happening in Houston right now. Up until this past Friday we had only done the extra events happening during Rodeo like the wine garden, the Livestock show, the wine garden, the carnival, and the wine garden (times two!). I only thought we had experienced Rodeo, but I was so wrong.

So wrong. 

Don't ever tell Freddie that those words came out of my mouth/fingers. 

Freddie and I popped into the (you guessed it!) wine garden before the Darius show so we could capture this moment forever and always:

And when we headed into the stadium we were met by cheering fans. I mean, screaming, yelling, hootin' and hollerin' fans! What was going on?! Were we going to see a real life cowboy lassoing a real life cow?! Or a real life cowboy doing tricks and stuff on a horse?! <----this shows my lack of Texas, Rodeo, and/or cowboy knowledge. 

We sat and saw a child clinging onto a sheep with all of his/her might as the sheep bolted across the field. The child slowly started to slide down the side of the sheep and finally fell off. The sheep stepped all over the child's face. The child's face was protected by a helmet, BUT but but but what?!?! This kept happening. Child after child after child. The man next to me would throw his fist in the air every time a child made it across the entire field without letting go. Because Yes! We should cheer when children don't get stomped by sheep! 

I didn't know if I should cheer or laugh or...? It felt very much like Hunger Games. 

Until I was informed it was called Mutton Bustin' and it's a real thing. And kids love it. And everyone in the state of Texas loves it. So I guess that means I love it now, too. 

Maybe. Freddie and I did decide our future children will be Mutton Bustin' stars so there's that.  

Okay, back to the real star of the show: Darius.

I went back to an old Darius post to link it ^^ there and realized I have three to four posts about Darius so 1) I am sorry 2) You are welcome and 3) I promise I'm not that creepy. Ish. 

HE. WAS. SO. GOOD. 

Go see Darius Rucker in concert and definitely sing at the top of your lungs. Which is exactly what Freddie and I did and maybe it's why the guy next to me left early...oops. When we were leaving Freds was talking about how Darius is such a cool dude because he plays what the fans want. He doesn't play his newer stuff that no one knows, but instead plays all of his hits of all time. And I was like duh, Freddie, that's why he was/is the best neighbor and friend of all time. 

I'll leave you with this gem from my Timehop yesterday.

I mean, it's almost like I wrote the book on how to take the best/creepiest/blurriest stalker pictures. 

From shopping for spaghetti and a cheap bottle of wine to singing about spaghetti and a cheap bottle of wine. 

We're headed back to Rodeo tonight (we can't stay away) (I see you wine garden, be there soon) for Jake Owen. I think I know a whopping one song of his, so I'll be sure to focus more on the bulls and sheep and horses and cowboys. And stuff.

Cowgirl out. 

currently: a rodeo ode

The Rodeo officially started yesterday. This means that there are a lot of people stomping around Houston wearing cowboy boots and cowboy hats. There are also a lot of people stomping around Houston wearing...other odd things. Such as a full on Indian headdress and fox jacket thing, Pocahontas style. Or shorts that don't even cover butt cheeks. Which apparently works when you pair said non-butt cheek coverage shorts with cowboy boots? I digress. We spent this past weekend at the Cook-off which is a thing, a thing that people do the weekend before Rodeo. Look it up. Google can explain it better than I can because I would explain Cook-off with 3 words: 1) BBQ 2) Boots 3) Beer. But that doesn't even begin to describe the spectacle that is Cook-off. Let's move on to my Currently ode to the Houston Rodeo...

wishing//
That I knew how to two-step. Apparently it's kind of like a rule that you have to know how to two-step in order to get an official Texas driver's license. I made that up, but that is sure as heck what it felt like last weekend when we went to Cook-off and everyone and their grandma's goldfish keeper were two-stepping their booties off (here the term "booties"  refers to both cowboy boots and one's gluteus maximus) (hashtag two birds, one stone).

going//
To Rodeo! Duh! Get with it! This weekend includes plans to hit up the carnival and the wine garden. Next weekend's plans include DARIUS RUCKER (!!!) and his VIP party that we will totes get invited to. 

craving//
Brisket. Whatever party tent we were in for Cook-off had the best brisket. The best! Side note: According to the Cook-off judges it was not the best, but if I were a judge it would have been #1. Side note over. YUM. I want that brisket again. Why didn't I bring home leftovers? Riddle me that. Brisket and eggs? Double yum. Da-yum, Emily, shut up about the brisket already. 

It was really good. I'll leave at that.

wearing//
Per Freddie's request, we went to purchase for reals cowboy boots last Friday night. Why the Rodeo horse crap are boots so expensive?? Am I missing something? Did I just grow up in the wrong state where "cowboy boots" were $30 at DSW? Two pairs of boots and cough several hundreds cough lots of money later we had cowboy boots.

And I can't decide if I completely hate or love them. I'm straddling that hate/love fence and getting a nice straddle stretch while I'm there waiting. I've always hated cowboy boots, but much like the can't stay in Texas until you learn how to two-step rule, I feel like you can't stay in Texas unless you own and continuously wear cowboy boots.

Ask me again in April once my feet heal from Rodeo wearin' the crap outta those boots.

learning//
That Texas really is its own...country. And it's still completely foreign to me. Yeehaw!

Linking up with Anne and Jenna.

on loving your neighbor as yourself

This weekend was one for the books. The biggest, fattest, encyclopedia-width books. 

You see, this past Saturday at precisely 10am tickets for the Rodeo concerts went on sale.

What's Rodeo? you ask. Good question. I'm still unclear about that, but I am clear on that fact that Darius Rucker is performing at Rodeo and that we had to get tickets to his concert. Had to. Not a want, but a necessity.  

If you've been reading this here blog for awhile then you know that me and Darius are biffles. We were neighbors first, then grocery shopping buds, and now biffles. And biffles support each other by going to each other's concerts. I make it easy for Darius and his crazy schedule by not performing. 

At 9:30 am sharp Freddie and I got ourselves in some virtual waiting rooms for some Darius tickets. You get randomly placed in this said virtual waiting room and once 10am hits, you randomly get chosen to buy tickets until all are sold out. Seems fair, cool, easy, and stress free, right? Wrong.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. 

80% of the tickets were already sold out to season ticket holders which left not a lot of tickets for US.   Who invited season tickets holders to this party??? Get out. 

I was in two waiting rooms, and Freddie was in one. We were serious about these tickets, folks! Seriously serious. 10am came and left. 10:10 came. 10:20 came. 10:30 came. All left without us having any Darius tickets.

post wouldn't be complete without a blurry picture of my virtual waiting room computer screen. 
How are we supposed to support our neighbor/best friend if we can't get out of the waiting room?!!?!? Riddle me that. 

I started doing what any crazy and annoying completely sane and logical person would do and began bargaining. To whom I was bargaining, I'm not quite sure. Maybe the Rodeo gods? Or Darius on some Jedi brain wave power? I don't know, but I was bargaining a lot. 

Pleeeeeease! If we get tickets I'll buy cowboy boots! You know how much I don't want to buy cowboy boots. Whoever you is/are, I hope you did know that. 

We'll stay in Houston for the rest of our lives if we can just get out of this waiting room!

I'll sing all the lyrics to all songs correctly from here on out! 

^^^That's a hard one to keep, people. This proves how serious this thing was. 

Around 10:43 Freddie was chosen to purchase tickets. Freddie. Who had been in ONE Darius waiting room. Not two, but one. I only held it against him for about 0.00005th of a second because it meant that WE HAD DARIUS TICKETS!!!

!!!

They may be super cheap and in the bloodiest nose-bleed section, but I'm going to pretend that they are VIP neighbor tickets and sing my heart out. Maybe even dance in some cowboy boots. Who knows. But I do know that we'll be cheering on our favorite neighbor. Wink. 

Take that, virtual Rodeo waiting rooms. Come on and get here, March! Yeehaw or something. 

Oh, no one is as excited as we are? Cool. Carry on with your Mondays...