Texas Oh Texas...

Noone from Texas wants to conform to Texas Cliches. We insist that we are not all country bumpkins that sit around with chickens running around the front yard, old cars parked out back, and babies with dirty diapers and kool-aid mustaches running about.

Back when I was 14 years old, I went to visit my uncle, aunt, and cousin in Washington state. It was my first time to fly and I was going alone.

I had only met my uncle one time when he made a short visit to our home in Texas during a layover at the airport. I had seen pictures of my cousin, Rachel, and aunt, Linda. Of course I had talked to them on the telephone from time to time. But ultimately, I was off to visit people I did not know, to live in their house for two weeks. I didn't know what I was in for...

When I arrived in Portland, I was met by my outgoing uncle and my cousin who had always lived in the North West. They, like so many others in the United States, had their ideas about how their Texas 'kin-folk,' if you will, would be like.

They assumed that I would walk off the plane, neigh, saunter off the plane like a female John Wayne. That I would have the thickest Texas drawl and talk very, v-e-r-y slowly. That I would be wearing cowboy boots, a broom skirt, and of course have BIG Texas hair!

I disappointed them.

Other than the Texas Longhorn t-shirt, I was not Texan at all. My accent was there, but not nearly as deep as they had thought it would be. My hair was sleek and long, no big bangs and teased tresses as they had thought. And as anyone who knows me will say, I talk anything but slowly.

During the drive to their home in south-western most Washington I was drilled with Texas questions. Did I have rattlesnakes in our yard? How many cacti were there at out house? What exactly is a tumbleweed? Did I love the Dallas Cowboys? And oddly, was my favorite food Chili?

The questions continued and I felt like I was some sort of a disappointment.

Later, I would feel like a side show. My cousin during my two week visit would parade me around to everyone she knew. I was instructed to say "Chicken Fried Steak" more times than I can count. Apparently my Texas Drawl can actually be heard when I say that particular phrase. I was asked about Tornados (of which I had actually seen). I was asked about, well, everything Texan.

I was a sort of a Texas to Washington Ambassador.

After that trip I loathed Texas cliches. I absolutely hated them.

But now, I hate to admit that stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason. My high school reunion this past month included: a football game, a flea market, and a country club! I had my wedding in the backyard at my brother's house. My dad does actually have old cars in the back yard, to restore them, but that is irrealavent. From time to time, the neighbors' chickens get out and roam around my parents' front yard. I say "Y'all" and my family loves chicken fried steak. I attended college my freshman year at one of the only two universities in the United States that still offer full-ride scholarships for bull riding.

And I hate to admit, at one time during my college years I wore boots.

Texas is Texas and Texans are in a class of our own!

~Rambling Jenn~

Strip Clubs - reality vs. perception...

I want to go to a strip club... a titty bar... a nudie joint.

WHY? you may ask.

Well, I have for years had a perception of a strip club. I have formed an opinion on what goes on in a strip club based upon what I have seen in movies and I know it must not be the way it is in reality.

In my head there are strange older men sitting in dark corners salivating at the young girls on stage.

In my head the girls all look like prostitutes and drug addicts.

In my head the place is seedy and reeks of old smoke and booze.

In my head is the kind of place you wouldn't want to go into after taking a look around it with a black light.

In my mind some Guido runs the joint and smacks his "biotches" when they perform poorly.

While I am sure that there are strip clubs that fit the picture that my mind has conjured up, I am also sure that most places must not be like my perception at all.

Men have business meetings at them. Couples go to them for a night out. Friends go there to hang out. I can't imagine that all of these people would go to the place that I have pictured in my head.

I've gone through stages of opinions on strip clubs. I've been utterly disgusted by the thought of them. I've been totally okay with them. But in the end, I believe that I can't draw an opinion on them at all until I actually go to one myself.

I am a people watcher. I love to observe others. What better place than to observe people than in a strip club. I'm curious what type of people go there. I'm curious what the women actually do on stage. I'm curious what the general surroundings are. I'm curious what the restrooms look like.

Women in the US draws strong opinions on many issues including strip clubs, but how many of them have been to one to be able to draw an opinion based on something other than what is put out there in the media?

My husband used to go to strip clubs when he was a young single buck, but now doesn't like the thought of them at all. So I won't go with him and I will respect his feelings on the matter.

But I would eventually like to draw an opinion on the matter based on reality and not perception. If we stop jumping to conclusions and base our opinions on fact instead of media-based perceptions we might find that we are more open than we thought we were.

~Rambling Jenn~

Modesty isn't the Best Policy

I was told about a month ago by a neighbor and friend that I dress a little too "revealing." She went on to say that it wasn't bad, but she just wouldn't dress that way. And stated that she wouldn't want to draw attention to herself by showing her body like I did.

Mind you, I was wearing a knee length skirt and a scoop neck tank top. The tank top scooped down to show a bit of clevage. I would and have worn the same outfit to my child's school and my husband's squadron.

At first I was really worried that I was walking around looking like some kind of tramp without knowing it.

Then I was sad that my friend would think that I was trying to gain some type of attention from men with my dress like I was some attention starved insecure woman who can't get people's attention with anything other than her boobs.

Now, I find the whole premise ridiculous.

My husband recently found some OLD rolls of film that I never developed from high school. The curiousity got the best of him and he went to have them all developed (All $80 worth of developing).

Most of the pictures were insignificant and, quite frankly, lame.But in one roll there were pictures that a friend of mine who was older urged me to take when I was a Junior in High school.

I was very insecure in myself back then. I would always make comments on how ugly and fat I was. How undesireable I was. How pathetic I was with my fat body, ugly face, and over-bite.

I was really sad.

So one day she told me that we were going to the lake and to bring my bikini, "noone will be there to see you, lets just get a tan" Finally, I agree and took my bikini. When we got there in her car she told me that we would not leave until I agree to take no-less than 10 pictures of myself in a bikini so I could see "How beautiful" I was. It literally took her 2 hours to convience me, but finally I gave in and she told me how to sit and so forth.

I felt like a cow, a stupid cow at that. I took the film home promising to develope it, but I never did -- Scott did!

Scott brought the pictures home with a funny grin on his face and all he did was hand me the pictures. When I looked down it all came flooding back to me. As I flipped through the pictures I realized that I had not been some disgusting cow with a horrid overbite and a attrocious face. I realized that I was pretty hot for a 17-year-old girl

I no longer have that body. I have wrinkles forming around my eyes now. My hair isn't as shiny as it used to be. I have a mommy tummy from having 2 kids. My boobs aren't as perky as they used to be from nursing my son for over a year.

What I wouldn't do to rewind time and enjoy the body I had. I don't mean being some tramp or anything, but I would have worn bikinis swimming. I wouldn't have dressed like a 40-year-old at 17. I would have walked with my head up and shoulders back. I would have had confidence in myself!

So now I have pledged to enjoy my body. My 29-year-old mother of 2 children, 5'8" 185 lb body. I'm curvier now. My hair is different in texture. I have stretch marks. I have big feet. I have an overbite.

But I am me! Like It or Not! I will not appologize for who I am or what I look like!

All of that makes me who I am. I am me with my big blue eyes, my muscular legs. With my wide smile. With my curvey hips. With my dark brown hair with no gray.

I vow to enjoy who I am right now.

Just as I look back at myself 12 years ago and say, "Damn, I wish I STILL look like that, I was HOT!" I know I will in 12 years look back at my 29-year old self and say "Damn, I wish I still look like that, I was a Hot Mama!"

Am I every man's fantasy? NOPE... Was I every teenage boy's fantasy 12 years ago? NOPE... Will I be every middle-aged man's fantasy in 12 years? Probably NOT!

But I am going to enjoy my body today, be thankful for what I looked like before and look forward to what I will look like tomorrow -- cleavage and all!

~Rambling Jenn~