Viva Las Vegas!

Let me begin with a small gripe.

Elvis Presley's "Viva Las Vegas" used to make me feel energized and ready to drink and gamble. But since they started using it in the Viagra commercial ("Vivaaaaa Viagra!") it makes me feel icky and gross inside.

In case you haven't seen the ad, a bunch of old farts are at a hootenanny playing their musical instruments. They warble a verse of the song, replace "Las Vegas" with "Viagra," then they all high-five each other and scatter in different directions, presumably to put their four-hour boners to good use.

Now, every time I think of Sin City, I hear that fucking commercial in my head. Thanks, Viagra. You shouldn't have.

Anyway. So, last week I met two girlfriends (Beth, a photographer from Maine, and Wendy, my bestie, a massage therapist from Washington) in Vegas for a totally impromptu, last-minute trip. Long story short: It was a freakin' blast, like Vegas always is.



But the first day/night was like an episode of the Twilight Zone, for real.

We went to our hotel room, opened the door, and found four 50- or 60-somethings -- three women, one man -- partying in our room.

An army of empty beer bottles were strewn about, and we were like, "Oh sorry! They must have made a mistake at the front desk."

"Nah, nah, nah -- come on in," yelled one of the semi-drunk women. "We'll explain what happened."

We're thinking, "no, that's cool. We'll just go have them switch our room." But they insisted, and we were curious. They said they had asked for a non-smoking room but the hotel put them in a smoking room (ours). When they called the front desk, there weren't any non-smoking rooms available, so the hotel apparently told them to hang out in ours until they had one cleaned.

So these people stayed in the room all day, showered, used all the bathroom stuff. "But we didn't sleep in the beds," they said, "so you could just call for some more towels."

Um, I think we'll also have them clean the bathroom as well.

Then they wouldn't leave! They were all drunk and chatty, and we were all travel-tired and just wanted to chill for a few. One lady starts pulling stuff out of her shopping bag to show to us (souvenirs and whatnot). The man was like, "Heh heh. I'm in a room with SIX beautiful women now!"

Vivaaaaa Viagra!

This was all within the first hour. Beth took a picture of them because the whole thing was so bizarre, so when she emails it to me, I will add it to this post.


Tales to be continued... Method Man has a guest spot on Law & Order and I must watch. I wuv him!

Tomorrow's story: "It's not St. Patrick's Day! What are you talking about?"

I'm going crazy -- want a lift?

Summary haiku:
Time flies when life is
busy. Wine helps, but Vegas
trip is what I need.

Happy Valentine's Day!

After a delicious, candlelit Italian meal (sorry, diet!) at our new dining room table, Kyle and I are having the most romantic evening. He is watching a basketball game with Miles (the cat) curled in the nook of his leg. I'm messing around on the computer, Lucy's head resting on my thigh and Archie's head nuzzled against my neck (he's on the back of the couch cushion).

But after our tummies retract a little bit, me and the hubbster will actually probably snuggle each other and watch a movie or something. Because honestly, red wine makes me want to cuddle someone without fur. (Side note: Covey Run wine from Washington state... try it.)

Anyway. It's been a really hellish three weeks (with the exception of last weekend, which included a visit from Danielle and Javacia's birthday). You don't care about the details. Hell, I'd just as soon forget them myself. But suffice it to say that I've felt like a monkey with its hair on fire for weeks.

But here's the good news: Out of nowhere, I get this email from one of my favorite girlfriends of all time, Beth. I can't say enough about how much I love this woman. Anyway, the email said she was going to Las Vegas for a work trip, the hotel room is already paid for, and did I want to meet her there and play for a few days?


Hellz to the yeah.

This is exactly what I needed, and it could not have come with better timing. The trip isn't for another month, but that's perfect because it gives me some time to reclaim my sanity and, perhaps, lose some more poundage before I go someplace warm, where I will not be wearing 50 layers of clothing.

(Fattie update: I've lost 11 pounds now. Probably could have lost more if it were not for aforementioned fun weekend filled with girlfriends, non-Weight Watchers dinners and lots of alcohol. What can I say? Stress made me relapse for a few days. Still, all of my pants are too big, which is fun, but also annoying.)

Only been to Las Vegas once, for my bachelorette party in 2005, which is also the last time I've seen Beth. See how fun (and sober) she is?



So I'm looking forward to exploring a little more and doing some shopping. According to our tax guy, our income tax refunds should drop into the account tomorrow. Maybe things are finally turning around. I'm ready for the crazy train to pull into the station, man.

Oh, and my Chia Pet? It's going apeshit!

Night, lovebirds...