This is Natasha, reporting in live from the Ellensburg Rodeo. As most all of you know (because I talk about it WAY too much), Ellensburg is my home, mi casa, the place I went to college.
At one point here, I was dating a local, my roommate was a local, and I was the assistant editor of the local paper.
One of my newbie rodeo peeps turned to me and said, "Dude?! Do you know EVERYONE here?" I smirked and said, "Yep."
My weekend started on Thursday. I rolled into town, straight up to the only bar in the world that will ever really matter to me, The Tav. My homie Jewels (he once got hit with a softball in the family jewels and he's had that name ever since) let me know that my other boys were playing in the city league softball championship. I scarfed down my cheeseburger and headed to the field.
Naturally, my boys won, and we went back to the Tav to celebrate. At one point, the beautiful Smet was leaving with some girl he met just that day, and the boys yelled out (rightfully so): Siphilis is a battle! and Chlimidia is not a flower.
The truth hurts, literally.
Friday led to even more fun. The Tav turned into a turnstyle, let alone the fact that the juke box was accidentally playing three songs for every quarter (my dream come true). A steady flow of old college friends, my near and dear locals, and the usual supects showed up. Amonst several others, I found an old acquaintance, Pete. I apologized for the fact that his wife felt threatened by me a couple of years ago, and noted that I am absolutely harmless.
His response set the tone for the entire weekend: "Don't talk like that, I've always loved the fact that you're a little bit dangerous."
After some moonlighting at the Horseshoe, some grinding on the dance floor, and avoiding a few old flames, I knew I was free.
A certain bet was set during the course of the night: I decided that this would be one of the first years amongst many that there would be absolutely no Rodeo Romance for me. I've got $10 riding on it. Money in the bag.
Today I arose after four small hours of sleep. I had finished the night/morning after singing Elton John, U2 and Alice in Chains hits with my Jewels and Janetty till 4 a.m. Woah.
I woke up to a sudden rush of the expected: Saturday here is the best part of the weekend.
My BFF Joy and I got ready in a fury and went straight to the Frontier Tavern at 11 a.m. As always, we missed the parade, but the best part is the fact that the Clan Gordon Bagpipers exit the parade and go straight to the Frontier to play there, and the place gets PACKED.
All of the people I've ever known in this city were there, drinking big beers in the early afternoon. People get so trashed that last year my friend walked out spewing foam, and others tend to shed a tear during the bagpipe performance, especially when they bust Amazing Grace out.
This year ushered in a new phase: A couple of my college colleagues decided to purchese 100 goldfish at the pet store across the street and pour them into the foutain in the Frontier beer garden. At several points in the chaos, at least six people ate live goldfish. It was a disgusting initiation of sorts, but I couldn't stop laughing. I was in now way one of them, but I couldn't help but yell, "Omega 3, all for thee!"
Most of the crowd hopped next door to the Tav after the bagpipers moved there for sustinance other than golfish. That led to awesome food, additional beers, and now, a nap.
More adventures will follow since I'm staying here until Tuesday. Updates will appear whenever the stupor arises.
I'd rather be a cowgirl. â€" Natasha