I Got Tough-Loved by a Mini Pony!

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Your intrepid reporter and the mini-horse known (to us) as "Andy Warhol." (photo by KXM)

PART 1 of a 2-PART SERIES:
K8 & Dacia roadtrip to Brenham and the Woodlands for True Colors

When I was just out of diapers, my parents would stand my chubby ass on the table to belt a few ditties for the amusement of their saucy friends. I had a few numbers in my repertoire. Ever the little exhibitionist, I never failed to stir their calloused souls with a few jams that included "La Media Vuelta" (a ranchera staple in my country – ¡VIVA MEXICO, CABRONES!), "Maneater" by Hall & Oates, and "I Love Rock & Roll" by Joan Jett & the Blackhearts. I would wail a couple of broken bars about putting dimes in jukeboxes then scamper off to watch my favorite movie, Flashdance… My parents must have been oblivious to some subconscious desire of theirs to shape me into the raging dyke I would one day become… but I digress.

With that in mind, I cannot begin to describe the immense and overwhelming joy that surged through me like a delicious and cool Old English 40oz-er when I learned that I would be rockin' to the Joan Jett in a matter of minutes upon our slated arrival at The Woodlands on Saturday. That the lover of rock & roll herself was part of the queer-happy line-up that we were about to witness: DANG.

My mentor, friend, and partner-in-crime Kate Pinche Messer surreptitiously kept this very hardcore piece of information tucked away through stretches of Texas highway, and instead, cooly distracted me with Miniature Ponies and Blue Bell Ice Cream.

Our chariot of all things mean and tough, otherwise known as the "MINIVAN! WHAT? WHAT?" first guided us to the The Monastery of St. Clare Miniature Horse Ranch. Here, monastic nuns breed miniature ponies for our sheer amusement and wonder. The Messer and I quickly made friends with a number of tiny equine, two of whom we christened Pony! Poni! Poné! and Brett Michaels… but none would grab hold of our hearts (or my skin) quite like the one who earned the name Andy Warhol!

We pretty much fell in love with this pint-sized flirt, who not only inspired a whole-lotta butchy swooning, but also turned out to be a biter who was fresh on yours truly. I got some gnarly bruises on my right arm that have since been attracting lots of concerned looks from co-workers.

Leaving My Little Pony Land was rough. We spent the entire 15 minutes of our journey to the Blue Bell Creamery plotting our "rescue" of ol' Andy… only to arrive at Blue Bell and find out that they don't do tours on the weekends! SERIOUSLY?!?!

Our ice cream maven, who we'll call "Batina", informed us that they "like to party on the weekends."

Oh.

In Brenham? I thought I was in bible-thumpin-glory-lory-halleluja-land?!?

Whatevs, Blue Bell! We did, however, make it in just enough time to meet up with True Color tickets winner Saffire Trinity and hit up the Blue Bell gift shop counter for a huge $1 scoop.

After my pistachio ice cream, I was a ball of heart broken (How I love, thee, Andy!), lactose-intolerant ("Oh, I shouldn't have eaten that,") mess that only endless rainbows could cure. And rainbows we would have.

Stay tuned for Part 2: True Colors!