Random Thoughts From An Avid Author

LAS VEGAS – The Hangover Movie…Live


Las Vegas…A yearly tradition for hubby and I since 2008. Rockstars…we don’t feel like them when we’re here. Well, sorta…

Last Thursday, we make it to the airport, People magazine in hand and hardcore Diet Cokes in the other ready to leave Dallas along with a full flight of other partygoers ranging from Red Hat ladies, Woo-Girls (don’t know what these are? girls who say ‘Wooohooo’ after every sentence, a man in a chef uniform and an entire bachelor party of dudes with mountain man beards and Duck Dynasty shirts.

Row 23…dang you American Airlines…I hate your seating policy. I booked this flight two months ago and row 23 in the back was all that was left. Yeah, I bet.

Two guys that looked like Zach from “Saved By the Bell” sit down behind us with a young woman dressed in a short black miniskirt made from enough material to knit half a washcloth…

The two dudes TALK THE ENTIRE 2 HR. & 50 MIN. FLIGHT. Dudes don’t talk this much. Seriously…They didn’t even stop to chew the obnoxiously loud bag of Doritos they brought on the plane. Here’s what I learned about the 2 dudes and the chick wearing a wash cloth. (Yes, I took notes. I’m an author, remember!?)

1) Both said dudes go to West Point Military Academy. Thank you for your services, but have your officers ever taught you that sometimes words are worth swallowing instead of pouring out of your mouth? Just wondering. But again, thank you for your services. I mean that.

2) One guy’s name was Robert Frost. No lie. So a 45 minute conversation follows about how he meets women in bars and tells them his name to find out their education level. If they don’t know who Robert Frost is, he moves on to the next lady. Seriously. The chick in the washcloth mini skirt asked him to recite a Robert Frost poem. Um, he said he couldn’t think of one. WHAT???

3) The chick in the washcloth mini skirt likes using “Spotify” on her phone. Everyone learned about her songs of choice for the next half an hour after she downed a Jack & Coke. Apparently she finds Barry Manilow funny. And Justin Timberlake is hotter than Adam Levine…She also enjoys doing the Chicken Dance at weddings…

Once we finally darted off the plane to avoid the Chatty Kathie’s for any longer, the airport was practically empty. 7:30 on a Thursday night…nobody here. We spent the better half of that evening playing slots because I “Rock the Slots” here in Vegas. I’ve won over $1,000 in slots over the course of the last 4 days. No lie. I’m going to add this tidbit to my resume…

Friday morning…raining. I could hear the Las Vegas resident voices rising above the raindrops that morning, “What is this wet stuff falling from the sky?!” It never rains here. At least, not when hubby and I are here!

So we take a cab to the strip. I refuse to walk in the rain or buy the $22 umbrella from the Dollar Store in the lobby. The cab driver…AWESOME. He tells stories about being a cab driver here for the last 25 years. The best one goes as follows,

“So I have to tell you folks about this guy I picked up this morning at 4:30am outside of Caesar’s Palace.”

We nod. “Go for it, man!” He laughs like Willy Wonka…does Willy Wonka laugh? Anyhow…

“So this dude stumbles out of the casino and I’m next in line for pick up. He opens the car door and says, “Man, can you take me to Caesar’s Palace? I can’t find my way home from this f*&^%&g place.”

I’m like, “Wait, he wanted you to drive him to the same casino he stumbled out of?” He laughs and slaps the dashboard.

“YES! The same d*&n hotel he was at! So I thought, man, it’s been two hours since I’ve given a ride so I’ll take him for a spin. He gets in the car, thanking me over and over. I proceed to drive around Caesar’s Palace twice, pull up to the same door he stumbled out of. Here you are man! He’s like, “Oh, thanks man. I thought I’d never get back here. How much?”

He turns around and looks at my husband and I. “I just told the guy, $10 bucks. The drunk dude gave me $15 and said to keep the change. Then I watched him walk back into the same door he stumbled out of 10 minutes earlier.”

HILARIOUS! That’s a ‘Hangover’ movie right there, folks. Am I right?!

Oh! The Mirage hotel now offers $99 IV infusions in the lobby after a hardcore night of drinking. Have we seriously stooped to this level? Oh heavens, apparently I’m old.

The rest of this weekend has been fab. I’ve eaten way too much, and won on too many slot machines. Today is our last full day and we head home tomorrow. I do miss my kids, and I miss my bed. But I always hate when vacation comes to a close.

I’m sure I’ll have more stories to tell after today, and after tomorrow’s flight home. Vegas…the city that tells a different story on every corner. Literally. 🙂

TTFN from Vegas!


Random Thoughts From An Avid Author

Las Vegas, Where For Art Thou? Seriously…Where Are You?!

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Las Vegas with my better half is in 11 days. Thank you, sweet, beloved, amazingly awesome JESUS!

I know you’re wondering what the heck the picture is above, and what it has to do with Vegas. Nothing, actually. But it was today’s science project with Little A. He’s learning about ecosystems in science, so we decided to make our very own ecosystem. It’s kinda cool, actually. It’s like a separate little world within a mason jar. Tiny people live in there. I’m kidding…It’s not Avatar, folks….

My son is smitten with his “planet”. My dog on the other hand, hates it. She has been staring at it for an hour. I have no idea why. I guess she wishes she could live inside the jar. Dogs are weird. Especially mine. Sometimes she watches the dust float around in the air when the sun filters through our living room windows just right. I have a feeling her head isn’t screwed on tight enough. Or maybe she just wishes she was a scientist. Like Phineas and Ferb. Now those two dudes are COOL.

Then there’s  me. I’m a mess. Not in terms of “causing trouble”, at least not today…

But in terms of my body is a complete disaster area. So I tried to be this crafty mom last Thursday. I took the boys and met a friend of mine and her son at a nature preserve across town to take pictures. I’m too cheap to pay for a real photographer, so I thought I’d do my own work. I have to say, I think I did pretty good, but I’m being paid back for being crafty. Dang it. Never again.

By Saturday morning I had large red welts that itched like holy heaven along my torso and back. Even my armpits. Joy.

Mosquito bites? Nah, too easy. Try chigger bites. I haven’t had chigger bites in like, 30 years. I forgot how freakin’ awful they are too. I mean, re-donk.

Then my kids start complaining they itch, and they are covered as well. NOTHING CURES CHIGGER BITES.

I have tried everything except cutting them off with a steak knife. That’s next…

My husband has been working like a fool for the past week. That’s a whole other story I won’t get into. But his schedule has been brutal. So Saturday afternoon, with my chigger bites in tow, I mowed the lawn. No biggie. I’ve done it before. Sometimes mowing with my headphones on is therapy. I needed a distraction from the awful itchiness…you feel me?

Saturday night, my lower back feels like someone kicked me repeatedly with a pair of old cowboy boots. It hurts. Aleve does nothing. Not even Aleve taken with a glass of wine. Maybe two glasses.

I go to bed. I can’t turn over. If I try, my breath leaves my lungs when my muscles tense. I NEVER have back problems. Word up?!

I sleep terrible. My husband snores. I think about things in the dark. Like, if someone breaks in tonight and tries to kill me, they will. My back hurts too much to move.

I need to pee. I refuse to get out of bed. I finally give in after half an hour of trying to talk myself out of it. It takes me ten minutes to scoot off the side of the bed. By the time I get back from the bathroom half an hour later, I’m wide awake. Getting back into bed takes another ten minutes. This is what old must feel like. I hate it. I think about ordering a Hoveround and Life Alert. Maybe these things really ARE awesome…

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(Do you like the spotted background? I did it as an honor to my chigger bites that make me want to chew my skin off.)

Today things aren’t much better. At 2pm this afternoon, I announce to my kids that I’m going to take a bath. They look at me weird.

Big A – “It’s the middle of the day.”

I nod.

Big A – “So, like, when was the last time you actually USED that bathtub, Mom?”

Me – “Probably 3 or 4 years ago.”

Middle A – “Does the whirlpool tub still ACTUALLY work?” I shrug. Guess we’ll find out whether or not I get electrocuted when I push the power button.

I hobble off, bent over like an old woman, scratching her chigger bites.

I fill the tub. I grab a book, a glass of tea, some chocolate covered raisins and some old bubble bath I found stuffed in the back of my bathroom cabinet. Does bubble bath go bad? I sniff it. Smells fine. A little “cabinet” like, but it’ll do. I figure, if I’m going to take a bath in the middle of the day on a Monday, I might as well make it count.  We’re going all out, folks.

Fifteen minutes in, I break out in a sweat. This is why I hate taking baths. They make you sweat. What’s the point of even bathing if you’re going to sweat through the whole darn thing?

I wipe my brow and continue reading while I eat my snack. The jets feel heavenly on my back. Thirty minutes later I have to get out, or risk suffering a heat stroke.

So where is Vegas?! Seriously…Where.Is.It? I can’t wait to leave. To get out of here and pretend to be someone else for a while. You know you do the same when you go to Vegas, don’t lie.

You leave work behind, family, friends, kids, chores, dirty toilets…and it’s epic.

You lay by the pool and read uninterrupted, and drink something vodka infused and fruity at 9am without ever blinking an eye.

You sleep in. You wave at strangers and eat Subway sandwiches at three in the morning just because you can. And that sandwich costs you $900 dollars (that’s Vegas pricing), but it tastes better than any Subway sandwich back home. Ever.

You go to see a show at 10pm at The Mirage, and drink Red Bull to stay awake because you’re old and you can’t stay up past ten anymore without nodding off during a re-run of ‘Cheers’.

You laugh, eat, reminisce and fall in love all over again with your better half. I do, each and every time. We are so alike. We enjoy being together, making fun of people in the shops of Caesar’s Palace, ordering room service while getting dressed to GO OUT and eat again, playing $.01 slot machines and winning nothing, but it doesn’t matter because you’re together.

And this is why I love Las Vegas. Because it’s just the two of us. That’s it. It’s that simple. We love our yearly trip to this crazy city just to reignite the “crazy” in both of us. Because life is short. And it’s worth living, savoring…all of it. So that’s what we do. Together.

Hopefully by the time we leave, the dog will have stopped staring at the terrarium, and my back and bites will have dissipated. One can only hope. I have eleven days. Eleven days to buy that Hoveround….

Itchin’ and Hurtin’ For Vegas ~


Random Thoughts From An Avid Author

Big Fat Meanies And Travel Size Elves

Welcome to Monday…hence, 3 days until I fly my rear end out of here and head to Vegas for a week. After this morning’s agenda, I would prefer to get on a plane today. But I can’t. So I’ll wish REAL hard for it to happen.

Do you think Sheldon Cooper would allow me to use his time machine to leave early? I’ll give him a ring later on my Star Trek phone…

Anyhow, I had a list of errands today to wrap up before we get the “hey-yah” out of here. My husband left his car, so I graciously took it to Walmart to get the oil changed since I needed to pick up some of those miniature shampoo bottles for the trip. You know the ones that allow you to wash your hair once for a $2.50.  Yes, those….Apparently I will be visiting Walgreens in Vegas once we get there. Trial size shampoo’s must be for elves, so I’ll have to invest in a full size, overpriced bottle on The Strip once I get there. Don’t worry, I think I can handle it. I’ll just look for an elf to give my trial size bottle to…

So, I drop off my husband’s car, do my shopping and come back to pick up the car and leave.

Then this unfolds….

Walmart Oil Dude: (slides my keys across the counter with a sour look on his face) “We can’t change the oil in your car. We don’t have the right tools to remove the engine cover to do it. Sorry.”

Yeah, he looked REAL sorry let me tell ya.

Me: “But you’ve changed the oil in this car for the last 3 years, what’s different about today?”

Walmart Oil Dude: (sighs with complete disgust) “I told you, we DON’T have the tools to do it. Sorry.

Me: “You don’t have the tools…Sooooo, you work in the automotive department and the tools are missing, is that you’re saying?”

Walmat Oil Dude : (Waves the manager over, sporting a bad attitude) “Can you please tell this LADY that we don’t have the tools for this? Apparently she doesn’t understand.”

Me: (For those of you that don’t know me, I don’t do confrontations. Today, was a whole other story as I was fuming at his sexist attitude.) “Excuse me, perhaps you should work on your attitude…(eyeing his tag) RONALD, and learn how to speak to a lady. Don’t stand there and act like I don’t know what I’m talking about. If you have a problem with me, then let’s chat. In fact, I’d like to speak to your manager in private, RONALD.

He glares at me and rolls his eyes. I felt like punching him for his rude remarks and eye rolling…instead, I wrote a novel about it in my head on the way home. It’s entitled, “Ronald. The Man Raised By Wolves In Pasadena.” I probably shouldn’t type it out for fear of being chased by the elves who make the tiny travel size shampoos at Walmart….

So the manager FINDS the tools and changes my oil for FREE. Might I add though, that even though this gesture was nice, I received no apology from anyone. Not even the travel size shampoo elf.

This leads me here. Yes…7 days in Vegas. After today, I am MORE than ready to get there! I’m waiting for Sheldon to call me back. I really do hope his time machine is available this evening.

And when I get there, I’m going to enjoy a lovely meal with my husband in this fancy-smancy dress that I borrowed from my boss (thank you RG!), and I will praise the Insanity Work-Out peeps who gave me 8 weeks of pure utter insane, vomit inducing hour long workouts 6 days a week that will allow me to look glittery and lovely in this little, teeny-tiny dress.

And I’m sure I’ll forget all about RONALD the mean oil change guy. And perhaps I’ll even buy the travel shampoo elf a Gin & Tonic one night at The Mirage….

Vegas Bound ~