To Texas and Back again

Sometimes I wonder why I'm not normal. Being married to the husband that I am, I think I get sheltered from the fact that I'm just not normal because, well frankly, neither is he. But when I come into contact with normal people, I'm reminded that we're a bit odd.

My trip to Texas was hugely successful. I traveled with a group of about 30 from my church. I knew a handful of them but most were strangers, and honestly, still are. But several are now new friends and that is fun.

The first night we were there, we ventured into a little Mexican dive. Oh, instantly I was in heaven. Although the food wouldn't go on my top 10 list (or even top 100) I LOVED the whole cross-cultural experience. And by cross-cultural I mean American. Because although it was different from an Ohio-Mexican restaurant and they had actual Mexicans working there and even Mexican tv going; we were still in America. But this sign was hanging right above our table... an announcement for tripe tacos.

I knew enough about tripe to NOT order them, but I did go to wikipedia to find out exactly what tripe is:
"Usually made from only the first three chambers of a cow's stomach: the rumen (blanket/flat/smooth tripe), the reticulum (honeycomb and pocket tripe), and the omasum (book/bible/leaf tripe). Abomasum (reed) tripe is seen much less frequently, owing to its glandular tissue content. Tripe is also produced from sheep, goats, pigs, and deer. Unwashed (or "green") tripe includes some of the stomach's last content, giving it an unpleasant odor and causing it to be considered unfit for human consumption."

'nough said!
But I have to say, I was pretty much the only one in our group who wasn't gagging and choking over their food.

I was only *mildly* concerned by the water pouring out of my taco... but it didn't stop me from downing the whole thing and cracking up as I did it.

Then I proceeded to find out how utterly grossed out many people are to stay in hotel beds. I never knew! I mean, I've seen the 20/20 exposes with the rest of 'em, but honestly, I've never batted an eye at snuggling up under that polyester comforter that apparently sends the rest of y'all (that's what we say down in Texas) into hysterics.

Does that make me totally gross or what? I guess I figure America is STILL the cleanest country on the planet, seamen stained comforters and all. But I did begin to question my sanity. I mean, what's wrong with me that I'm not affected by life like others around me?

I mean, creepy clown suckers SHOULD be souvenirs for your kids, right?

I saw this at that Mexican restaurant and was COMPELLED to buy one for each of the kids. Did I know what was under the wrapper? Heck no! But didn't stop me from doling them out first thing Sunday morning.

*Maybe* I should have checked the content under the wrapper before handing them out, but what fun would THAT be?

I mean, look at the delight on those faces (of course, except for Turner, who is the only one wondering, "Didn't this lady think that clown *might* scare us even for a second?")

So although we were suppose to spend the weekend learning about house churches, I spent the weekend finding out what a weirdo I am.

Hey, enlightenment is enlightenment, right?!