Port A...potty

Port Aransas or bust!

My hubby knows how much I love me a good beach. That being said, I am willing to settle for a Texas beach if need be. He booked a gig in lovely Port Aransas, or Port A as the locals call it. So, we packed up the car with music equipment, the video camera, clothes and of course a cooler of food. (Any smart vegan always travels with a little food, duh.) In the week prior to our little escapade I spent a lot of time on the Internet researching places to eat, and once again came up with Subway and only Subway. Uf. So I packed up the usuals...muesli, bread, Tofurkey, hemp milk* (that's right), and Morning Star RIBLETS (aka God's gift to vegans). I put on my Toms and zzzziiiipppp we were out the door.

We always have to make at least one pit stop on our trips out to East Jesus Nowhere, sometimes because we both have to pee, or sometimes because of the always fun game of gas tank roulette my sweet someone likes to play. Gas stations are where most of the fun happens. Small town gas stations are exceptionally awesome. There's always a woman behind the counter. ALWAYS. She will stare at us, because despite our distressed jeans, and smelling like hippies, we are still "city folk". She will have blond hair with roots, yellow teeth, pink lipstick and a red shirt. ALWAYS. I can never see what is happening on the lower half of her body, but am assuming it's chock full o' hairy legs, hot pink toes and an ankle tattoo of a rose. In the gas station you will always find classy souvenirs perfect for the equally classy Nascar fan in your life. This particular gas station was full of AWESOME bumper stickers, such as one with a pit bull that said"If it ain't a pit, it ain't shit", "Cowboys think they got it, but rednecks know they do", or my personal favorite "Ditch the bitch and lets go huntin'" My magical bliss was interrupted by the hubby trying to get my attention to leave. It seems I had been pulled into a white trash tractor beam and was left completely paralyzed and speechless by the stickers.

Here we go again, back on the road. 1 hour to go, then I hear my very pure-mouthed husband issue an expletive....or two. Annnnddddd here come the coppers! Fortunately, we had a very nice policeman who wrote us a very expensive ticket, but gave us a quicker way to our destination. We took it. It was scary. Back road, after dark, middle of nowhere. Bastard. I suspected he had a friend waiting in the next town, and I was right, but his little friend had some other sucker already.

We finally made it to Port A just around midnight. Boy are we tired! Our room was free. It was behind the laundry room. The bathroom had no door, so technically we didn't break our "no open door" policy. My bathroom became the pool side bathroom, right then and there. So, great! We got to stay in a one bedroom TWO bathroom suite....behind the laundry room. I was assured by the Mr. there would be a refrigerator and microwave there and he did not need to call and ask...hmmmm. Shame on me for believing him. What an idiot I am. My poor riblets sat in mostly melted ice all weekend and pined for me, and I them....and I them. We laid down to sleep, and somehow my love fell asleep immediately...not even a hint of guilt over the refrigerator/microwave situation. I however, did not sleep well due to many factors. Grande coffee (idiot), beach excitement (child), and a pillow that threw my cervical spine (not as sexy as it sounds) into all sorts of weird positions (old person).

Next day, up and at 'em! Yes, I'm a morning person. The only thing worse than a vegan is a vegan who is a morning person, I know. We got some coffee, had some muesli, put on the bathing suits (gross), sunscreen and headed to the beach. It was wicked crowded, due to Sandfest, which we had no idea about beforehand. I just wanted a beach nap. Or any nap. But strange hairy man wouldn't stop crunching his water bottle behind me in the sand. And I was all sorts of worked up over Mr. and Mrs. Let's-Force-Our-Puppy-Into-the-Water-Even-Though He's Scared. If they hadn't each been twice our size (not in the "we're really built kind of way") I would've opened my fat Irish mouth and said something. Giving up on the nap, we took a walk, which made us both crazy hungry.

On the walk back to the hotel we passed a little restaurant called Shells, where they made us a spinach fettuccine pasta, with lots of yummy veggies. We had an olive sampler thingy as an appetizer, it was also delish! We make plans to go back to the hotel pool, read, drink mimosas and chill the eff out. *Ring* The venue/hotel owner calls Linc and asks us if we want to drive to Sandfest and get a tour of the town. I confess, I did not want to. I had a wicked case of nap head, WICKED! Alas, my beloved is the sweetest person ever and cannot say 'no'. Off we go. It turns out I was glad we went, we saw some pretty amazing things. This very kind man graciously toted around one "normal" person and one girl with dark sunglasses suffering from a lack-of-sleep hangover...those are the worst. After Sandfest he took us to The Back Porch, a local bar on the pier. I had sangria, which at this point, sitting in the sea air, started to look more like a comfy pillow than a drink to me. As it turns out, the town is way cooler than South Padre, it's closer and the beaches are just as nice...again, for Texas y'all.

After drinks we headed back to the hotel for a quick shower/wardrobe change for the gig. The gig went great. My Mr. sold some CD's, made some friends, etc., etc., etc. Then we packed up the gear, headed to the room and CRASHED! The rest of the people stayed out until 3am...HOW do people 10 years my senior do this?! I almost started crying at the thought of going back out. These same people were out and about before I had even had coffee the next morning. What. The. Poop.

Heading home is far less interesting than the trip there. We drove through Corpus Christi, which I'm certain was unsafe seeing as how we did not have hazmat suits on, (knew I forgot something). We got lost in San Antonio searching for a vegetarian restaurant. Before we found it moods were in the potty, as were our surroundings in the outskirts of San An. Then we found it! The sky opened, and the angels sang. Green Cuisine is the bomb diggity bomb bomb bomb! It's the only all vegetarian (mostly vegan) restaurant in San Antonio. It's in a building that was bakery in the 1800s (so I was already stoked). Plus, I got to use the bathroom in what used to be a brick oven...I peed quickly, just in case. I had the most yummy chicken fried "steak", mashed potatoes (WITH gravy, yo), and kale. Mr. Tofu had mushroom stroganoff, and the collard greens. The service was off the charts, much like my old love Spiral Diner in Dallas....sigh. I felt refreshed and gloriously fat after that big meal, and am considering a Saturday spent in good ol' San An, just for more tastiness.

We made it to Spicewood in the nick of time for Linc's gig at Poodies. High-tailed it out of there as soon as he was done. And, by 7:30pm, I had my precious and elusive riblets in my tummy, and was settled in with some original Clash of the Titans. :)

*Hemp milk is not for beginners. :) If you're feeling frisky, I suggest starting with a vanilla variety. One of the benefits is that you digest 100% of hemp milk, unlike it's soy friend.