Day Six

I tried listening to the Bangles for a bit this morning. Something peppy and not Aerosmith. Didn't work. Had to go back.

I think the think that's amusing me the most about this is that I'm dragging so many others down with me. One friend typed up and emailed the lyrics to Love in an Elevator to me and a couple friends at work keep quoting back song lyrics to me when I give them lead lines. Heh. I'm so easily amused.

Class was good yesterday but I'm still thoroughly disgusted with how out of shape I am. Master K was giving me grief about testing tomorrow, but I'm just not up to it. I'd like to spend March getting up to speed so I can at least last a whole test without needing a break. At this point I don't think I'll make it up to sparring. We'll see how today goes, but I think I'm holding off testing until next month. I just can't slack anymore.

After class I'm supposed to go dancing. And I'm realizing I have no idea where to go dancing in this city. Last time I went was eons ago and it was at a dyke club (which my man hungry friend isn't going to go for tonight) so I'm just at a loss. Gotta do some research before Turnip shows up. She wants to go dancing. I usually just go sit in a bar and drink myself silly while talking with friends. But dancing rocks too. Though I'm still feeling a little burnt out from the awful experience that was RA in Vegas so I'm not looking forward to tonight as I might otherwise be. I think another reason I don't go dancing in NYC so much these days too is that the best places have the velvet rope. And I am NOT a fan of waiting in line to pay for overpriced drinks and watch pretty vapid people mate. Ugh. When did I become this crotchety old woman? Kill me.

Ah well. I'll just go kick and hit things beforehand and it'll all be good.

Aerosmith Addiction Day Five

I tried listening to something else. Just wasn't making me happy. Alas. I must have the Aerosmith. Even if the Economists do look at me askance when I head bang. Can I help it if I have the perfect hair for it and if my work is so tedious I have no choice but to jostle my brain from time to time? No, I cannot.

Today should be my first time going to a second class in the same week in absolute ages. I feel like that may not be the most properly constructed sentence ever written. Nor was that last one. ARGH. I blame the Aerosmith. Whatever. I'm kind of excited about getting back into the swing of Taekwon Do. I was really loving it last winter & Spring and then got sidetracked when my grandfather got sick. And then I've just been lazy for months. Which is a shame because when I can actually get myself there I really dig kicking and punching things. Heh. Maybe I can get into a decent fight for Vegas 2005. I haven't been in a fight in ages. My life is very, very hard. How can a girl be expected to enjoy life without a little kicking and hitting? She cannot.

I've lost my mind. Send help.

The Saga of Vegas 2004

Thursday, February 19th

I left work early and got to the airport with a minimum of fuss. Had a root beer float in the airport and booked it to my gate. I got on the plane and got my little window seat. Sleeping wasn't really an option. We had a full flight and a whole group on the plane with us. A very loud, chatty group. And a crazy lady sitting next to me. She unpacked her HUGE bag about seven times. And had an obscene amount of pills of some sort. And she also seemed to be pretending that the seat next to her (MINE) was empty and kept banging into me and putting her stuff in front of my seat and all that. So annoying. They showed Le Divorce (Kate Hudson annoys me) and Solaris on the plane. Loved having my iPod and ignoring the world around me.

Landed a little early, grabbed my bags and hopped on a shuttle to the hotel. Pumpkin and crew had gone to see the 10:30PM Zumanity so I checked in (not too long of a line) and got my key and headed up to the room. It was a huge room. Two Queen beds, a jacuzzi in the slanty corner (we were in the pyramid with the slanty outer walls) with a lovely view of the strip, a sitting room with a giant purple couch, two tvs, a mini fridge and all sorts of space. So I unpacked and showered and got in my PJs and was all comfy and happy. Then Pumpkin called post show, so she, Liz and Doe came upstairs while I got dressed and we all went out for a drink as it was Liz's birthday. Not too exciting but one should start Vegas with a drink rather than just bed, I think. Anyway, then I got to get to bed.

Friday, February 20th

I got up about 10:15 and Liz was packing, Pumpkin was in the shower and Doe had wandered off. Apparently everyone slept in the other room because I was snoring. I hear I finally stopped at some point and then Pumpkin started. I felt bad, but didn't know what else to do. I only snore when congested and the plane air does me no favors. Ah well. Turns out Doe had gone out and returned her rental car (which she rented to hold her luggage while Pumpkin and Liz were at the conference I guess) and had breakfast so she showered and all while Liz, Pumpkin and I had the Breakfast Buffet at the Luxor. They were starting into lunch but still had the breakfast stuff set up. Excellent scrambled eggs but bad cheese blintzes. Excellent Apple crepes though. You all need to know these details. Really. Then we waited with Liz for her shuttle to the airport.

Then the three of us decided to wander. I'm feeling kinda fuzzy about stuff on Friday right now. I know we got our first foofy drink, a dragon full of Pina Colada at the Excalibur. And we headed through various casinos, walking along the strip, people watching and popping by places. We caught a fountain show at the Bellagio because Pumpkin likes them more than anything else in Vegas (even more than my BOYFRIEND). We kept calling Turnip for status reports and finally got her on her way in the early afternoon. Though that's when the rain started so she had a bitch of a time getting to Vegas. Oh, right. We headed down the strip to the Mirage because Pumpkin wanted to see the Tigers and Dolphins in Siegfried and Roy's Secret Garden - not as dirty as it sounds - and the Tigers close at 3:30. So we booked down there and saw them. Pretty orange tigers, white tigers, a cheetah, a black panther, an elephant (with turkey) and a couple of lions. We watched them and took tons of pictures. Then caught some of the dolphins. We saw some dolphin ‘training sessions’ (not shows, they don’t do shows, no no no) and also got to see them through the windows in the lower viewing area. You can see into the tanks and watch them swimming underwater so that was kinda neat. And there was shopping because heaven forbid Pumpkin and I not have tiger and dolphin jewelry. And of course I got sunglasses. Special zebra striped Siegfried and Roy sunglasses. Oh yeah, baby.

Then we headed to the Paris hotel for Eiffel Towers of Strawberry Daiquiris and crepes. Pumpkin had Raspberry & Cream and I had pure Chocolate. Doe snacked from each. Awesome. We also planned for Turnip's arrival. Then we popped across the street for ANOTHER Bellagio Fountain show in the rain. We walked the length of the lagoon and Pumpkin wanted to watch the next show. Doe wasn't going to stand for that so she headed back to the Luxor on the bus. Turnip was about on the strip by then so she picked us up (after we got some decongestant and ear plugs at CVS - I felt bad about the snoring last night) and saved us a good long walk in the rain. We got dried off and headed to Gonzalez y Gonzalez in New York, New York. Turnip got a horrible drink called a Woo Woo that she remembered liking but then remembered that she had already been hammered the last time she had one and liked it... Pumpkin and I enjoyed our awesome raspberry drinks. I think I ate enchiladas. Don't remember. Food so wasn't important. Then came the quest for Turnip's building drink. We searched all over for the Empire State Building asking all sorts of people and even meeting a security guard (older guy, not hottie in a uniform) from Honolulu. But alas, no Empire State Building. So we got her a Statue of Liberty. She asked for a Pina Colada but was given a Chi Chi. She drank it anyway. Heh. I think we helped. Heh. Then we went back to the room and jacuzzied with glittery bath bombs and the Statue of Liberty. Then Turnip rubbed my feet because she is awesome. Then she decided I was bad at foot rubs and we should get massages. So we got appointments for 2 for 1AM and 1 at 1:30AM and went and showered (in the many different smelling showers) and sat in the whirlpool and drank a ton of water and got massages. It was awesome. Then we went back to the room. I would like to mention that while I had clothing over my swimsuit, Pumpkin and Turnip walked through the casino in t-shirts with towels around their waists. They made quite a sight. On the way back from the spa we stopped and got me a frequent player The One Club Card and I won a free hat. Woo. Wildly exciting. Then I showered and we all sacked out. Apparently I snored briefly right in Turnip's ear, but I think it was short lived.

Saturday, February 21st

We got up around 10ish. I think. Maybe. We then got ready and went to the cheap ticket places to see if we could get half price Thunder from Down Under tickets. Alas, we could not. We did see half price Star Trek the Experience tickets, but did not purchase them. I was denied Star Trek the Experience for Vegas 2004 so it’s going on the MUST list for 2005. I don’t care what Pumpkin says. Doe got tired of walking and decided that she was going to watch the M&M Movie at the M&M store and would catch a cab to the Bellagio and meet us there for brunch. So we walked to the Bellagio and caught ANOTHER fountain show. Then we went in the Bellagio and saw the pretty glass flower ceiling and DISCO PONY! I want a DISCO PONY! Then we wandered through the garden there - all decked out for Chinese New Year. We waited in line for the Bellagio Cafe and were eventually joined by Doe. We got in and had a lovely breakfast. Coffee and eggs benedict with tomato instead of ham. We played Keno but only Doe won, $260. Then we went out and caught another fountain show.

Then we took to the bus to the Stratosphere. Doe said there was a fun show with Showgirls and magic and an Elvis Impersonator. Um, no. The showgirls were fake and had tops on and couldn't dance, the Elvis impersonator was a dog (a cute dog, but a dog nonetheless), the magic was tiny and the comedians were awful and the singer wasn’t much. It made us sad. And it made us drink stratospheres of booze. Turnip and I sucked ours down quickly to help ease the pain. At least the dog and the bird were entertaining. Do NOT go see Viva Las Vegas at the Stratosphere. Then there was shopping. Then it was too late to see the view from the Stratosphere in the daylight (being as it had gotten dark) so we bussed back up to our end of the strip. Ooooh, and we kept seeing scary cheerleaders from the competition that was in town. There were actually lots of creepy people on the bus. Big fun for everyone. The creepy people kept talking to me too. So strange. Lots of locals giving advice and chatting and things. I need to stop with the eye contact thing. I’m too approachable. And yet also scary according to some people. Whatever, back to Vegas.

Then we went to the Excalibur and got our nudie show tickets. And Turnip purchased a dragon o' booze while I bought a tiara. Woo. My One Club Card got me 10% off too. Woo again. DISCOUNT Tiara, almost as cool as DISCO PONY. Then we went back to the room. Pumpkin fled for some alone time. Doe ran off to play Keno. Turnip and I did the only sensible thing and went to the spa for smelly showers and whirlpool time. The only problem with the whirlpool and Turnip is that she likes to throw ice at me while I'm in the whirlpool. Because she is mean. Then we got pretty, met back in the room and headed out.

We had so-so Pan Asian food and a HORRIBLE waitress at Chin Chin Cafe in New York New York. She didn't want to wait on us. She lied to Turnip about the size of her soup and she gave us the check when we wanted dessert. We hate her. We hate her a lot.

Then we went and stood in line for the boys. We got there late as we foolishly thought we didn't want to be up front. We were mistaken. Pumpkin was NOT excited by the idea of the boys and kept saying that if they were not attractive she was holding ME responsible. Ha! The Thunder from Down Under was awesome. The boys were hot, the costumes were hysterical and the other girls there were totally mock worthy. I even saw Pumpkin clapping with the rest of us and seeming to mean it. The highlights were my boyfriend and all the Aerosmith and the older woman with the gray hair getting a handful of the Thunder from the MC. It was hot. We're going back next year. We are so going back next year. Hee hee hee.

Then we headed to RA the nightclub in our hotel. It was SO BAD. The music was okay but they had these awful sirens. The boys outnumbered the girls 3-1 and yet we could NOT find a single attractive guy in the bunch. It was smoky from the fog machine and lots of creepy guys were circling us. And the creepy couples dancing and mounting each other, ew. And the guy in the white pimp suit and hat doing a dance where he keeps slapping his partner’s ass, ew. Pumpkin left first because the fog was bothering her contacts. I fled next as I just couldn't handle the creepy with my mad fatigue. Then Turnip and Doe followed not too much later, chased away by the bad, scary hip-hop DJ. “Get your fucking hands up in the air, people.” Then I showered and called my Mom (unfortunately NOT a drunk dial - sorry Mom) and we passed out.

Sunday, February 21st

We got up about 10 to pack and get out of the room. We checked out about 11 and then tossed our stuff in Turnip's car. The line to leave it with the bell hop was about a mile long and Turnip had her car so it seemed like the right choice.

Then we headed to the MANDAlay Bay to have their Champagne Brunch. It was lovely. Then we wandered back to the Luxor and shopped a bit, at which point we realized Turnip was missing her wallet. Alas. Two and a half mimosas apparently do that to a gal. So we booked all the way back to the buffet and luckily it had been turned in. So she got it from the security desk and NOTHING was missing. Hooray. Of course we then realized she'd left her umbrella in the store at the Luxor. Alas. Two and a half mimosas apparently do that to a gal.

Then we cabbed it to the Paris so Turnip could get an Eiffel Tower of booze before we cut her off at 4PM. She got one of those, and Pumpkin and I split one (with extra banana because we’re so cute), and then we headed back to the Bellagio for, you guessed it, the fountain show. It was the Proud to be an American Song. Turnip and I sang and danced before, after, and during. Because we can.

Then we went to the Monte Carlo for the start of the great Elvis slot machine search. We started with the Monte Carlo because it was the nearest casino that took my One Club Card. Dorks we are. They had NONE. So we tried all over the place. We went to Excalibur and they had apparently taken them all out not long ago. Bad, bad Excalibur. So I played some other slots for a bit while Turnip and Pumpkin sucked back some towers. We finally found Elvis slots in New York, New York and I blissed out for a while. They wanted to nap but I pouted a bit and said I wasn't spending my last couple of hours in Vegas sitting on a couch in a lounge. Heh. We had to get Turnip some aspirin and finally found the Vegas 2004 shirts Pumpkin had been looking for all weekend. We now have matching shirts and are the dorkiest hot chicks in all the land.

So then we wandered down to the Bellagio and, oddly enough, saw a Fountain Show. Sadly it was the same Celine Dion "My Heart will Vomit" one we saw earlier in the day. The water was pretty but the song, not so much. Then it was off to pit stop (the buildings make you pee, how unexpected) and shoe shop at the Bellagio. And then wandering the Forum Shops at Caesar's Palace. We bought Aerosmith CDs to remind us of the half naked hotness and then cabbed it back to the Luxor to unload Doe (who was taking a later flight), get the umbrella and get ourselves off to the airport.

Checking in was easy and yet painful as we were told our flights would be at least 2 hours late as EVERYTHING was running late, due to the torrential rains and flooding in the desert. Bah. Pumpkin and I opted to hang out in the middle of the airport for a while. We saw a tex mex restaurant and Pumpkin said we needed Margaritas. We waited in line there and finally got beer and a margarita and a chance to sit. Service was slow as they were slammed with customers but that was fine with us. We called Doe to tell her to call the airline as her flight was undoubtedly delayed. Then we saw her flight was canceled and called to tell her that. Hopefully she found a place to stay and made it home yesterday. The poor waitresses were having a rough time of it at the bad tex-mex place yet were polite and nice and doing the best they could. Yet the assholes on either side of use chose to 1) tip only a dollar on what I’m sure was at least a $20 bill and 2) tip about $1.50 completely in CHANGE for what I’m sure was at least a $35 bill. Pumpkin and I were disgusted. Then we hung out like slugs on the floor with everyone else for a while. Then off to our gates as Pumpkin though she might leave at 11:45 (I was slated for a 1:15AM Departure at this point). Security was packed but moving briskly. Pumpkin's flight kept getting bumped back too and I think we both got off around 1:30 or so. Ugh. We kept talking on our cells to each other and to Turnip to keep her awake on the drive home. Finally I got on my flight and passed into a coma. Bliss.

And that was Vegas 2004. I think.

VEGAS 2004

This is my new boyfriend. Because I never let reality get in my way. Pesky, pesky reality.

Alas, Vegas 2004 is over and I'm very sad. Very, very sad. But I don't think my body could've stood much more of the walking & drinking & dancing & not sleeping so maybe it's for the best. And now I'm one day closer to Vegas 2005! Woo.

We had an awesome time. There was a bit of fatigued crankiness all around (well, not so much from the freakishly perky Turnip) but nothing that couldn't be ignored and conquered. And we had a blast. Hopefully I can get off my butt and get photos online soon.

Highlights were people watching, the Thunder from Down Under boys (whom we will be seeing in Vegas 2005), the many buildings, the mimosas, the Elvis Slots (as always), the cards advertising three girls for $99 bucks, the many, many buildings, the jacuzzi tub (with sparkly bath bomb), the spa massages & scented showers (I tried mango & cucumber) & whirlpool, the shopping... um... did I mention the buildings and the half naked boys? Cause they were awesome. Next year we're combining the buildings and the boys. In fact, they were so awesome Turnip and I can't stop talking about them and also can't stop listening to Aerosmith. I'm thinking I might need to seek therapy. Or just ride it out. Pumpkin was initially resistant to the boys, but they won her over and she's all psyched about going back next year too. Heh. "If they aren't attractive, I'm holding YOU responsible!" I'll have you know she has NOT decided to hold me responsible for the fact that they were hot. I'm just saying...

The torrential rains weren't so great though. It's a freaking desert and we only had a few hours of sunshine. So wrong. And of course I come back to New York and have snow. Bad, bad bad. But still, it was all worth it.

Even after finally getting sleep last night I'm still all over the place and feeling kinda manic. Bah! Maybe I can go to TKD tonight and work off some of this energy. Or maybe make myself ill. Either way.

I'm debating posting the rundown of the weekend I typed for me Mum up here in the blog. Hmmmmm...

Vegas! Woo!

I remember when I was a young lass and had tons of slumber parties. My little girl friends would come over and we'd have dinner and do slumber party things and then sleep and then have breakfast and hang out and watch TV all day and finally they'd leave in the early afternoon. And I would feel so deflated. I'd just want to crawl into my bed and cry because I'd been surrounded by tons of people and having all this fun and all this constant stimulation and now I was alone. It passed quickly, but it's that total let down feeling. You know? I still feel that way, just to a less dramatic degree. And I kinda felt that way this morning. I had a great weekend with my parents and then this morning we all had to get up early and I had to send them on their way and then I had to go out in the freezing cold and come into the office and blech. How can you not feel a little deflated? I guess thinking about the three day week and my Vegas weekend coming up would help, huh?

But the weekend was good. After a million plane mishaps the folks finally got in around 2AM Saturday morning. I'd made up all the beds and so after some hugs and hellos we all passed out. Saturday was totally lazy. Dad ran out and got the biggest rib roast I've ever seen and otherwise we worked on the new computer (Mom got my email problem fixed, yay!) and zoned. Cleared off a lot of TiVo and worked at eating at least the fresh food from my three thousand pound food delivery. Then a lovely Valentine's Day dinner (with flowers from Daddy) and a round of The Game of LIFE. I won. Of course. Dad still isn't over the part of the game where I traded my $80,000 salary card for his $100,000 salary card. Big baby.

Sunday we loafed again. Some cleaning and putzing and the like. Then off to Muffy & Steph's house (bringing board games and part of my three thousand pounds of groceries) for dinner and Walt Disney World Monopoly (got my butt handed to me by Mom) and Trivial Pursuit. Dorky folks that we are.

Monday... there was a little bit of loafing and then it was out to run errands. We went to the big apple store in SoHo to get the one piece needed to start setting up the new iPod. Mom liked the Genius Bar there but was a bit miffed to see it was staffed entirely with boys. Then I dragged 'em to Otto's where we drank lots of wine and stuffed ourselves stupid. Mom recommends the Calzone if you go. Then we headed to the liquor store and the kitchen store (I now own sushi oven mits - let your jealousy go wild) and home. For loafing and iPod fixing. Good times.

Now, I prepare for Vegas. So excited. We have a to do list already. You wish you were going too don't you?

Spa
Star Trek: The Experience
Being Drunk
Drinking Buildings
Stratosphere in the daylight
Hard Rock Cafe
Drinking a Parrot
Buffet/Viva Las Vegas/Elvis Impersonator
Nudie show
Elvis Slots
Blackjack Table for at least a couple of hands
Family Feud Slots
Jacuzzi time
Magic Act
Bellagio water show

Talent Show!

My little Beyonce was awesome. They wore oversized white t-shirts with the collars cut out (a la Flashdance), jeans and saucy little hats with one side flipped up in a jaunty manner. Beyonce's was fuzzy and baby blue. I'm sure there's a name for those kind of hats, but I am clueless. I'm all about the shoes, hate most hats. Though I love my Icelandic wool hat from Spanky and all my baseball and bucket hats. Yeah, fashion plate, that is me.* Anyway, back to Beyonce. They did an adorable little hip-hop dance and there was much cheering. The best was when she saw me walk in and give me a big smile and ran and gave me a big hug. Made my night. Probably made my week actually. And apparently she also ran and told her mom that her Reading Buddy was here. And her friend (who sometimes joins us when her reading buddy bails) gave me a big hug as well. Her hat was fuzzy and pink. Awesome. So cute. I also got to meet her dad and talked to her mom as well whom I've met a few times. Really sweet people. Her Mom kept thanking me for coming. It seemed odd. I can't imagine not going. She was so excited about it, the school is a 10 minute walk from my office and it wasn't more than an hour and a half of my time. No brainer to me. But I am glad that Beyonce's Mom seems to like me.

The rest of the show was a kick. There were two other dancing groups (both of which included at least a bit of dancing to Sean Paul's Get Busy - hee) and lots of singing. And of COURSE a couple little girls singing My Heart Will Go On. This is the song that started the giggling fit which got my cousin Sassy and I in trouble at a talent show in Salem years ago. The girls actually didn't do a bad job on it, but I hate Celine and that movie and that song...

It was weird though. I felt a little out of place. Everyone else seemed to know each other and be chatting and laid back and all that. It was kinda like a little social hour between performances. And apparently I don't look like a NYC public school student, parent or teacher. But everyone was really sweet and polite. And it was a fun time. I just hope the pictures turned out. Y'all should just see her in her cute little hat.

My biological clock just started I think. Ooops.

*Sidenote: Did any of y'all have those fashion plate imprinting things as kids. Where you'd have the different plates with the heads, torsos, legs, feet of various women/outfits and could put them in combinations and then put paper over it and do a pencil rubbing to get a drawing of a girl that you could then color? I cannot remember what those were called. I LOVED mine and was totally anal retentive about my designing and coloring of these women/outfits. I loved this one girl with a short curly hairstyle that I always had to make strawberry blonde. And I would ONLY color with colored pencils because you couldn't get the subtlety needed with crayon or marker. I need help, don't I?

My parents are coming to visit and I'm freaking myself out. I want to clean everything perfectly but I don't have time for everything I want to do and so I do nothing. Well, not nothing, but still. Spanky (formerly a C friend who will totally complain about this nickname) tried to remind me that my parents will still love me if the catbox isn't cleaned, but no. Not Dad. A gross catbox will make him walk. He'll still love me if the vacuuming isn't done (though I'll have to hear about it forever) but the catbox will send him running for the hills. So that's the must do for tonight. And the rest I can probably do while they're here, with help even. I'm really looking forward to the visit. Three whole work-free days with the folks to chill, do home improvements, do a little sightseeing, eat most of the two thousand pounds of food I bought, finally set up my computer and iPod (yes, I AM the laziest woman alive, thanks for asking), things like that. I'm just looking forward to some family time.

I lost my first grandparent (not counting Grandma Carol whom I lost before I was even born) around this time six years ago. Nana. She didn't like mourning so I think she planned dying in the South around Mardi Gras. So the family would party some. And we did. And we missed her like hell. And my Papaw went a few years later. And then my Bz. And just this past Spring I lost Grandpa John. And right now Mom is down in Alabama basically saying goodbye to my great-aunt, Nana's sister. And it kinda hurts. Last night was really hard, thinking about it all. I've been so blessed to have a wonderful family that I'm close to, to have known six grandparents for the first 23 years of my life (therefore getting to know them all as people and not just awesome hug givers), to still have two wonderful grandmothers left at age 29, to have parents who are good to me and with me and with each other and happy. How lucky am I? But I guess sometimes, around this time of year, around the first of November and probably around Easter now, I just wish I were luckier. I wish that Nana could meet my children and love them like she loved me. I wish Grandpa John were around to pass judgment on my potential husband if I ever decide to go that route (and to nag me constantly if I don't). I wish Papaw were around to say "Mandy" in that wonderful, bursting voice of his. I wish Bz could take my money at cards still and tell me about how many mullet he caught. I wish Tommy and Mamaw could live forever. And my parents too. I just wish we were all together still. You know? And I have to stop this, because crying at work just isn't something I do and I'm not going to start today.

I feel kinda strange being so open and honest about my feelings in this thing, a freakin' blog open to the world. It's not something I'm comfortable doing at all really. Not outside the safety and security of my family. But it's something I'm trying out. We'll see if it works. If not I'll just go back to blabbing about the kitty litter. I know y'all love hearing about the kitty litter. Sex-ay!

I ordered about three thousand pounds of food from Fresh Direct which arrived last night. About a thousand pounds of that just went to kitty litter, but even so, two thousand pounds of food is quite a lot of food, and it barely fit into my kitchen. My fridge is crying to me. Crying. My poor adorable fridge (it really is a cute appliance with the sassy blue accents). I was wondering how I would eat it all, but then I remembered my folks will be here this weekend and we can get rid of at least the fresher stuff. And I got lots of the little snacky things Dad loves like hummus and potato salad and cheeses. Woo. And cokes for my Mom. Yeah, I'm a wild woman. Y'all are so jealous of my rock star life. Even Rock Star N** (actually, let's start going with the nickname thing here and dub her Rock Star Fran, oh yeah. Fran, if you don't like it, give me a holla') is jealous of my rock star life.

Speaking of the exciting things in my life, you are going to be soooo jealous when you hear about my Thursday plans. I'm going to a grade school talent show. Yes, I am the coolest woman y'all know. My little reading buddy (let's call her Beyonce*) and seven of her buddies will be doing a dance in this talent show and I'm going to support her because she's awesome. And apparently they all dance better than the actual Beyonce. And there will be special outfits. How can you say no to that? You just can't. It's impossible. And so I will go and watch lots of grade schoolers sing and dance and such because I adore my Beyonce. I think the dance is going to be to Baby Boy, but I'm not sure as I don't watch the MTV like I used to. Like when I was in grade school. Hee. MTV is sooooo 6th grade!

Beyonce (the reading buddy) is awesome. We do math together. What is better than doing math with a 9 year old girl once a week? Nothing. I'm sure things are different (better?) than when I was in grade school math class, but I'm so all over encouraging math and science interest in girls in school. It still seems like such a boy dominated and encouraged field. So we read some and do math some. She's pretty bright. She hates division still (oh how I remember those days) but loves subtraction and multiplication. We've been reading E's father's book (let's call E Charlotte, shall we?) and he mentions age a lot so that sets off more math. How much older than Suzanne or Miss Blanche is Mr. Boots? If I lived as long as Mr. Boots's father, how much longer do I have to live? Yesterday we figured out how old I was when Beyonce was born and when her brother was born and how old her mother was when I was born. Then we had to have a lecture about 39 not being old and only 80 being old and how her mother has about 51 years before she's old... There isn't so much math when we read the Mary-Kate and Ashley mysteries (books a friend gave me for reasons to embarrassing to discuss), but we DO count the number of times Mary-Kate says "whoa" in the one with the snowmonster. So that is something. Mary-Kate really needs to stop it with the whoas, let me tell you.

*I know Beyonce has an accent on her last e, but this blog won't let me do it. I tried.

Apparently Vegas in two weeks just wasn't enough for me. I was dragged (kicking and screaming) to Mohegan Sun on Saturday and forced to gamble. It was horrible. Actually, it was kind of depressing. They only had TWO Elvis slot machines. Really, there's no joy in slots for me unless I have the chance of getting an Elvis video clip or getting my picture taken by the Family Feud nickel slots. Vegas is way cooler than the casinos of Connecticut.

Okay, so it ended up being a lot of fun. Free drink (only one alas), pizza and big beer at Lucky's Lounge (Vegas style, my ass!), wandering, mocking, good times. Sadly I missed E's birthday party, though. This happened the LAST time I was supposed to go to a party of hers. Not the gambling, but the being in CT too long after a board meeting. She's just gotta start planning better with these parties. 'Cause you know it's not really a party without me. Of course, it could also be another E's fault. I missed D's birthday party a while back because I was hanging with him so I don't know. I think between CT and the other E, there was just no chance I was making E1's party and I should've admitted that up front.

I really need to get nicknames for everyone I think. Too many Es and Ks in my world. And Bs. And Ss. Ugh. Anyone in my life want a particular nickname?

Sorry this one isn't so interesting. Not in much of a writing mood. Gambling obviously sucks away my creative juices.

Ew.

No one will go see Win a Date With Tad Hamilton! with me. So unfair. I'm not sure why I want to see it. It looks bad, I keep reading horrible things about it and yet, I still want to go. I think I just like that whole dumb romantic comedy that makes no sense and would just disturb me if it ever actually happened to me kinda movie. Which is wrong. I know. There are a TON of wonderful movies out there that I should throw my $10 at to support so that Hollywood makes more of those and less of the Tad Hamilton ones but I can't help it. I'm a sad, sad girl.

One who loves Ice Castles beyond reason (yeah, I had a crush on Marvin Hamlich as well as Robby Benson at that time and I really think that was the start of me having such odd, odd taste in sexy) and adores Silk Stalkings and thinks that Invasion of the Rock Aliens is a gem (which I purchased for a dollar along with Tuff Turf) and has Grease 2 on VHS AND DVD now (Cool Rider was my little 8 year old anthem - which probably explains my ridiculous motorcyle fetish that can't really be discussed here) and has seen most of Troy Donahue's movies (that one is SO Mom's fault) and made her friends watch First Wives Club last Sunday for a bit (though really only one arm had to be twisted on that one) and I just have to stop now. I'm upsetting myself.

I mock the tacky & the trashy of the world endlessly and yet I embrace it. Especially in TV, Movies, Magazines and anything that sparkles. Ugh.

Happy Birthday, Kristie!

I really shouldn't listen to Eve on my morning commute I don't think. Too much attitude in the air. This morning at the entrance to my subway, the woman in front of me swiped her metrocard and then started to go through the upright turnstile the wrong way. It's the revolving bar door kind (does that make sense?). You can only go one way through it as there are nonrevolving bars on one side blocking you. This wasn't going to stop this woman though. So, as she tries pushing through the wrong way (and keeps trying for a bit), the turnstile reader seems to think she went and someone else is exiting or something and clears off her fare. She then tries to go the right way and can't because her fare has been used. I'm waiting there for her to just get through so I can swipe my card and go. There are only two entrances and a couple folks were at the other one or I would've gone there right when I saw her being a tool.

So, she turns around and immediately snaps at me asking why I did that. "Why did you do that? Why would you do that? Just go through so I can go now!" Apparently she assumes I swiped my card and that messed everything up. Now, even if she hasn't screwed up with the entrance (which I still don't understand - there are big BARS blocking your way, it's all curved to go one way, everything points to going the right way!) me swiping my card wouldn't have done a thing. You can swipe a card as someone is going through and it won't do anything but take your fare and let you through when they're done. I've done it before. Others have done it before. It's just the beauty of the subway turnstile - getting people where they need to go as quickly as possible.

I really, really didn't like the fact that her first response was to assume I fucked her over and to turn on me. So I told her I didn't touch the damn thing let alone swipe my card and she should back the hell off. I think I scared her. She looked frightened. She got more flustered and tried to once again figure out how to get through the damn turnstile. But I am evil and couldn't be bothered to help the stupid snappish shrew at that point and just went on my way through the other turnstile. I like to think she's still stuck there and it makes me smile.

Seriously, I hate folks who screw up, get frustrated and immediately think it's someone else's fault and start lashing out with the blame. Just take a few seconds to confirm that it wasn't your error and then you can lash out with the full weight of the TRUTH behind you. Makes the bitching out so much more effective and worthwhile then.

Yeah, yeah, New Yorkers are evil. What-Ever.

Lately I keep thinking about all the things I'm going to do when I win the lottery. Not that I've ever played the lottery. Well, I did once when a coworker was going to get tickets and I gave her a dollar to get me one. But I haven't since then. Yet I still think of what I'm going to do with the millions once I have them, as if it's a done deal. It's a lovely little fantasy, but I don't know that it's helping me move forward in my real life much.

I mostly think of the travel, how I'll decorate my gorgeous Brooklyn brownstone (with flat TVs, two TiVos at least and a library - bliss), what Hawai'i place I'll buy for the folks and I, how happy Dad will be to get his RV and so on...

Sometimes I think of inheriting it. Even though I really don't know anyone with as much money as I inherit in this fantasy. And also I eventually feel guilty over the fact that someone will be dead in order for me to get these piles of money and things. So strange.

Maybe it's time for me to slim down and start looking for that trophy wife position. Or put my brilliance to work and make my own millions. Or just suck it up and enjoy the life I have. One of those three.

Have you hugged a K friend today? If not, do so now. (hope that works, babe)

A friend of mine gave me some excellent advice in an email this morning, "take a deep breath and think of Christian Bale without any clothes on every now and then." I'll have to keep that in mind this week.

Things are crazy with a big internal/external conference we have going on tomorrow through Friday. And I have a friend coming this weekend and my apartment is almost messy enough to be gross. And I have some friends I feel like I'm neglecting but I just don't have time for anything what with the long hours at work this week. I also wanted to test for green stripe this weekend but it doesn't look like I'll get to class more than once this week and I just won't be ready in that case. And my new computer is lovely, but I can't get Outlook to set up the way I want to and am not in a good frame of mind to work on a new machine right now (nor do I have the time). And I want to clear off TiVo and then purchase and set up a new TiVo so I can give my old one to my friend this weekend, but no time. I keep freaking myself out about it all when really it's not a big deal. So, I'm going to take a moment to picture Christian Bale naked. Y'all have a nice week. Don't know how much I'll be posting before February.

Woo. My little stewards and the new chef just got a 98 (out of 100) on the health inspection for our fraternity eating club. So exciting. For me. And anyone who understands that first sentence. Yay!

And J & A & V, if you ever read this, please don't take the 'little stewards' title personally, it's just a habit I've gotten in to remind myself I'm not 20.

So, the other day Mom was polishing up her cast list of my life and I was helping her on a few last names, occupations and relationships to me and so on and so forth. It was interesting. While I joke that she's my stalker, it's really not that creepy. She just likes to know what's going on with me. She has her own life and all too. Honest! It's just funny how different she and Dad are with respect to me. I don't think either one of them cares about me less than the other, but Mom knows every little detail and Dad's perfectly happy to have overall highlights and only get the details on things that specifically interest him. He really does have the highlights down though. I quizzed him once. He did shockingly well.

I blame my completely schizophrenic nature on them and their differences. And I guess on being a Gemini (twins! two faced! woo!). I used to joke that Dad fought in Vietnam while Mom protested it. Not that that phrase sums up who they are all that well or their differences, but it seemed to prove a point at the time. They're both individuals with a million nuances, but... Mom tends to be the more emotional one while Dad's a bit more rational. So I'm kinda both. I can fly off the handle and cry at lots of things and be sympathetic and so on and so forth while being rational at the same time. This is not making sense. I tried to explain to a friend of mine once that while I do illogical strange 'girl things' (as I believe he put it), I realize that I'm being illogical and strange and just need to get it out of my system and then I'll be fine. And I don't actually expect others to take me seriously when I'm being goofy - because I'm still rational and know they shouldn't take me seriously. But sometimes you need to be emotional and sometimes you need to rein it in. Argh. This isn't making sense and I'm afraid that my parents are going to think I see them as an emotional freakshow and a cyborg and that is NOT the case. It's probably a topic that requires a long discussion and not just a couple paragraphs on a blog. It's just something I was thinking about this morning.

One thing my parents did do the same was embrace Mocking as a great Parental Tool. I got the occasional spanking and sometimes frequent groundings, but they really liked the mocking thing for the day to day stuff. Like when I went through the whining phase. They liked calling me Wendy Whiner and would start riffing off that old Saturday Night Live skit with that horrible whining family. It drove me out of my mind. But it worked. I learned that whining is only good in the same way shrieking is good - getting what you want from people who will do anything to get you to shut up. I also remember when I went through the early teen eye rolling phase. Mom liked to grab my arm and ask Dad for a quarter to put in my ear to see if they could win - implying I was a slot machine. This, of course, made me want to roll my eyes even more which caused more slot machine jokes until I wanted to cry. But, I actually started making a concerted effort to NOT EVER roll my eyes. To this day I'm not a big eye roller. I get my contempt out with snarking and cattiness. Don't know if that's actually such a good thing come to think of it... But I guess the mocking thing worked well for them. I'll probably torture my children with it some day. No whining and eye rolling in MY household.

Actually... when I worked for a day care center in college I enforced a strict no whining policy. If one of the kids would whine at me, I would tell them "No Whining" and wouldn't listen until they talked to me normally. I kinda figured this wasn't really sinking in much as these were 3-5 year olds I was working with. But then one day I was over dealing with something when I heard Kid A whining to her friend, Kid B. Kid B stopped Kid A in her tracks and promptly said "No Whining!". Kept repeating it too. Like I did. Heh. Cracked me up. His parents probably hate me. Still.

I love this story.

So, we were all hanging at McStinovich a few years ago. We were having a wonderful time, something you can't help but do at McStinovich what with all the drinking and the floating. We were up on the deck of the house focusing on the eating and drinking (not so much the floating right then) when S came out and informed C that the lemonade has gone bad. C was all surprised, "We have lemonade? Where did you find lemonade?" S informed her that he made it with his own two little hands, from frozen concentrate. C was again surprised at the existence of frozen lemonade concentrate in her home and wondered where S found it. He told her. She started cracking up and told him that's where they keep the fat. You know how every household stores the grease/fat from cooking bacon or frying burgers or whatever? My family keeps it in an old peanut butter jar underneath the sink - never to be mistaken for actual peanut butter or lemonade or whatever. The S's apparently store theirs in juice concentrate containers. Where any drunk fool can find it and be surprised at the bad taste.

Apparently S found the container and was craving lemonade. I always have a strong hope that he was well into the drinking portion of the weekend at this point. Because he found the concentrate container and poured the contents into a pitcher. He mixed in the two or three containers worth of water and stirred. He poured a glass and then tasted it. And thought it tasted a bit odd. And then he tasted it again. And then he came out to share the news of the funny tasting lemonade with everyone on the deck, so we will always and forever talk about 'The Time S Drank Fat'.

I think I tell the story better than I write it. And I can never decide when it's a good time to reveal the whole twist of it being fat rather than lemonade. Obviously if I start the story with, "Did you hear about the time S drank fat?" it really isn't important when the revelation is made as it's kind of already out there. But in writing it, I don't know. Maybe it's best to wait for later. Either way, still has me cracking up.

Hopefully he won't find me and beat me up if he ever reads this.

(Good Morning, Kristie! Have a lovely Thursday!)

So, I'm going to Vegas with some girlfriends next month and I'm very excited. K and I had an excellent time two years ago. We drank two buildings, took ridiculous photos (I have scanned them and you need to remind me to send them to you!) of our future children (we're going to have a bitch of a daughter and a really hot, gay son - woo), and drunk dialed my Mom. We even rode the trolley. Apparently one does not ride the trolley in Vegas unless one is over the age of 65. We didn't care. We were tired and the Stratosphere was so far away. I recommend the trolley. We also stayed in a room at New York, New York that was as far from the elevator banks as possible while still being IN the hotel. It took us half an hour to get downstairs every morning. Madness.

I'm so excited for this year. We've got a jacuzzi suite in the Luxor (with a slanty wall room in the pyramid) and another friend from high school will be joining us. K2 is newly single. And ready to get a little peppy in Vegas. As you may have noted from the activities above, K1 is not all about the drunken trashy stupidity so it should be interesting to mesh what everyone wants to do. There will be more buildings and photos and mocking most of the folks we see certainly. And eating and wandering. And the Stratosphere in the day since we've seen the view at night already. And I'm hoping to go to Star Trek: the Experience, but I don't know if my really pretty & sassy & not geeky companions are going to be up for that. Maybe after a few building drinks... And K2 and I hope we can get together and convince K1 that we should see a trashy show. And then there will be the Elvis Slot machines where my man sings to me when I win. And I'm thinking I might actually be ready for some black jack at the tables. Any suggestions from the peanut gallery? I think it'll just be fabulous to be with two (maybe three if K3 comes along) of my closest gal pals in a city like Vegas for a total girly weekend. We may even have to spa. Can you spa at 3AM in Vegas? You can't get a pedicure in LA after 9PM or so. Horrible city. Just so you know.

Vegas! Woo!

Today is not a pretty day.

Some days I get ready and face the world and feel I look sassy and pretty and all that. For some reason the outfit works and the hair is doing it's shampoo commercial thing and the face isn't all pimply and the jewelry looks cute and the eyes look large and lovely and I hardly notice I'm fat and my shoes are all cute and fabulous and my nails aren't a mess and my pedicure isn't chipped and I'm all happy and gorgeous. Today is not one of those days.

The outfit, which was working for me when I wore it a couple weeks ago, is looking a little frumpy. And I don't think it has anything to do with the two days it spent on my floor. Really. I have two big, ugly red zits on my face, one is VERY red and VERY much on my forehead, almost dead center. It's really hot. Sexy beyond reason. My hair has actually decided to frizz a little. That's how dry it is in NYC. My perfectly straight hair is frizzy. And full of the crazy static. I barely have any jewels to distract from the zits and my lovely tan is fading. Today, is not a pretty day. But that should make it easier for me to go home tonight and put on my sweats and scrub the catbox. I hope.

I really prefer pretty days.

I was thinking the other day about how I used to wonder where all the snow was in New York City. I'd always see loads of snow in the winter scenes in movies set in New York. Like the Christmas Tree getting scenes in When Harry Met Sally. But then I moved here and there was hardly any snow until last winter. I'd get a little pissy with these movies thinking they were taking serious dramatic license with my city - making it seem like it's usually a snowy wonderland. And now I'm learning why they think it's okay to have all those snowy winter scenes in those movies. Though snow in Manhattan isn't nearly like they show in the movies. The 'blizzard' back in December was an exception. Snowed forever and was windy and cold and beautiful. K and I were shopping in it like the crazy folks we are and I was loving it. Snow was all over the ground and New Yorkers and tourists were shopping and drinking cocoa and it did seem a little magical. And then the plows came. And the pretty went away.

But mostly it all turns slushy and gets shoveled into the gutters and ices over so you have to walk carefully and can't enjoy it even if it did look pretty... I like the snow in Brooklyn though. Especially on my street. Folks shovel their own walks and often have their kids helping out. It all looks pretty and white most of the time until it melts. And best of all I get to have a whole backyard of it. Last winter, my first winter here with a real backyard, I got goofy and made snow angels. It was awesome. It's not quite high enough for me to do snow angels right now, but it looks like we've got plenty of winter left for that.

I just wish this snow would come when I could stay at home and snuggle with the kitties. And that the temperature would do that thing where it's just cold enough to snow and not any colder. This negative temp bullshit is making me crazy.

I'm going to Nobu for dinner tonight. And y'all aren't. Well, unless you are M or M or J and are going with me. But I don't think y'all are reading this so...