Saturday, September 24, 2011

San Antonio

Today, I'm going to borrow a sugary, overly-used, marketed-into-a-bloody-pulp Disneyfied phrase: Dreams do come true.






A few weeks ago, I had to the opportunity to do something I've dreamed about since I was a little girl. I went to Sea World. I'll let that sink in for a moment.


In order to understand why this was so important, let's turn back the clock of time, back to when I was in elementary school. I cannot remember a time when animals were not a passion with me, but once upon a time, my heart wasn't completely focused on sleds and goofy canine heroes. Before there were huskies, before there were flamingoes, my first conscious love was dolphins. When other little girls were showing off their most recently acquired Lisa Frank school gear, I had cheeseball dolphin folders. I drew them on any piece of scratch paper I could get a hold of. In my fourth grade yearbook under the penetrating question of "What do you want to be when you grow up" I said I wanted to be a sexy marine biologist and work at Sea World. I was the only eight-year old in the neighborhood who spent time campaigning for Green Peace and sporting the Save the Whales slogan.


So when I joined the Vet Tech Student Organization (VTSO) during my freshmen year at Vet Tech school, my hopes were high that one of our field trips would be at this wonderland from my girlhood. My wish came true and I found myself headed toward the charming city of San Antonio.




There are many charming treasures to be found in San Antonio. Not the least of which is the original Buck-ees, the largest gas station in the state in of Texas. Now, you may wonder at my delight over such a common place as a gas station, but let me tell you, this place is a palace among rest stops, a holy grail to the weary traveler! Once you enter into this marvelous Cave of Wonders, you are not confronted with the mundane cuisine of cheap gas station food, oh no, instead you are placed with the overwhelming options of a delicatessen, bakery and coffee shop, not to mention the racks of clothing, books, cooking supplies and useless knick-knacks. But the most wondrous part of this excellent pit stop are the BATHROOMS! Someone out there must've recognized the demand for the needs of unheeded bladders along this nation's highway, because it houses not 10, not 15, not even 20 separate stalls; folks, this place boasts no less then 50 toilets! I had a picture taken of myself in the fork of the hallway, just before the labyrinth of potties. God Bless Texas!









After relieving ourselves and gorging on the goodness of Taco Bueno, my room mate Jen, her boyfriend Bear, and I finally arrived at Seaworld. We rode the rides and I found myself at the beginning of a ruthless cycle in which I was doused with profuse amounts of water everytime I believed myself to mostly dry.




No matter, though. Once we were through with the roller coasters, it was time for our first show. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect such a performance. It began with a clown in the audience, entertaining children with a cheesy water fountain routine, but it wasn't long before the dramatic music filled the area and fog shot up around the tank. Two spandex-clad trainers came sailing in on the noses of streamline baluga whales and the water ballerinas formed their patterns. Then some more spandex-clad performers apparated in the rafters and executed acrobatic dives off a high dive. An acrobat dressed as a tropical bird dropped down from the ceiling in hoop and twirled around on nothing but a swatch of material. To add to the pizzaz of this marine spectacle, a flock of macaws would soar across the area at random intervals. The entire time I found my self saying " Where's the dolphins? Where's the dophins?" but when they glided in and started flipping up in the air, I was completely unprepared for the feeling that overwhelmed me. I started to tear up.





The rest of the day was a haze. We ohhed and ahhed over the Shamu show and took one final photograph of this magical place before starting the three hour trip back. On the way home, Bear decided I needed to see the city. We drove past the Alamo and walked along the Riverwalk, which in of itself was worth coming to San Antonio. I am the ultimate tourist and I love perusing street booths with homemade wares, especially jewelry.The treasures of the riverside booths abounded with many delights. I found myself eyeballing vast amounts of pro-Texan paraphenalia, more torquoise jewelry then you could shake a stick at, and most importantly, copies of John Wayne's birth certificate!



These booths were situated next to the picturesque canal and with the sun setting, we found ourselves in the perfect story book landscape. As I sipped my Shirley Temple underneath the twinkling lights of the patio of a mom-and-pop pub, I found myself to be completely at peace with the world. My time in Texas has been filled with many hair-raising experiences, but being in San Antonio helped me to understand why there is so much pride in this state and why so many of the olden day country singers lost their hearts there. It was a beautiful day and I had the chance to realize a dream. Looks like being a Texan has it's benefits after all.




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