Vegas and Stuff
Wednesday, Oct. 31, 2007 6:45 PM
"The night before I left Las Vegas I walked out in the desert to look at the moon. There was a jeweled city on the horizon, spires rising in the night, but the jewels were diadems of electric and the spires were the neon of signs ten stories high." - Norman Mailer
It's been awhile, I know. I've been extremely busy. Since I've been extremely busy, my life feels a bit chaotic. My house isn't as orderly as I'd like it to be, and the desire to tear it all apart and put it all back together again nags me.
I don't understand why I can't let things go. The fact that my closet is in disarray torments me. It will continue to torment me until I march into it and start tossing things into bags. The fact that I keep adding to the pile is going to cause me to have an ulcer someday. I think my life would be better off as a minimalist. If only my mother would quit buying me crap. I deal with enough problems having to go through piles of junk mail every other day.
It's moments like this when I wish I could start completely over from scratch. Give me an empty house with nothing in it. Give me a life with nothing owned but that house to fill. And only allow me to fill it. Not my mother who is constantly bringing over loads of stuff she picked up for me when she was out shopping... Just me.
I feel like this at work, too. It's an overly anxious feeling. The closer it gets to the end of the year, the more anxious I get. I know that it's going to be time to clean out last years files to make room for next years... and for some odd reason it makes me feel better to get it all done six months ahead of time. Not three months, two months or one month ahead of time. 6 months ahead of time. Because once it's done, I don't have to worry about it anymore.
I keep telling myself not to sweat the small stuff; that if I died tomorrow, none of this would matter. It doesn't help though. Overconsumption and consumerism is overpowering, and it's pushing me towards the brink of extinction! Okay. That's a bit over the top... but, still! I need room. I need space. But most of all, I need ORDER!!!!!!!! Or I need somebody to hypnotize me and convince me that a little disorder is okay.. because I'm about to go nuts here, people. Absolutely nuts!
On to other matters. I found out about a week ago that R.J. landed himself in jail. Yes, jail. Instead of shooting himself in the hand like Shawn did, he goes and places himself in the position to be attacked by his ex-girlfriend's boyfriend, who ironically is his ex best friend. And instead of pressing charges against the men who attacked him, he let's his anger get the best of him; so he goes out and he grabs a gun and he goes off and shoots this ex best friend in the knee caps. And while he can't claim self defense, I hear he's going to plead temporary insanity, especially since this is his second felony. That means he's going to end up in jail for at least the next 5 years.
Can you believe it? I certainly know how to pick men, don't I? Or perhaps the "great" ones know how to pick me.
I am losing faith, here. I no longer have any hope what-so-ever that a descent man exists out there who is single and roughly my age. I'm not asking for Prince Charming. I know that by the time people turn the big 3-0 that they're going to have at least some baggage or a "but" in there somewhere... BUT come on! There has to be more than a few mechanics full of angst out there.
Now, back to exactly one week ago today. Last Wednesday I went out with Tim. Yes, I know. Shame on me. I should not even be associating with this Tim but I can't help it. I get bored way too easily.
So anyhow, he'd come over a couple of times and asked if he could come over again before I left for Vegas. I told him that was fine with me but that I had to run up to Halstead to drop the baby gift off to Sabrina. He decided to tag along with me, so I let him. When we get there, Sabrina and her husband are over at Crystal's ex-husband John's house drinking. To top it off, they have their children with them. Now, I'm not one to tell people how to raise their kids, but I really don't agree with people dragging their children to other people's homes while they set out to get plastered.
But forget all of that. They're guilty of bad parenting... but I need to get on with the story here. To make a long story short, Tim and I start to drink with them. Free booze. You can't turn that down, right? Well, by the time I'm plastered off my ass, I've got Tim trying to get down my pants. Strangely enough, I'm not in the mood for Tim's crap so I make sure to venture off everywhere but near him. So instead of getting it on with Tim, I find myself making out with John.
To be fair, John started it. We were standing out on the front porch just talking when he bent down towards me and started to kiss me slowly. It grew into a heated kiss and lasted at least two minutes. I could be wrong. It may have only lasted 30 seconds for all I know. The important thing is, when he ended the kiss, he backed up and said, "wow!" I remember giggling and saying, "wow?" And then he said something like, "Yeah. Wow! I mean, damn." And then we went back to making out. I'm not sure if he said these things because he was drunk, but I'm going to just take it as a sincere compliment towards my kissing abilities.
As the night came towards an end, Tim suddenly remembered that he needed to be back in Wichita to pick Michelle up. Michelle is the woman he's living with. I believe they are together, although Tim won't admit that to me. After all, he's hoping to get down my pants here. He won't, though. Ever. Anyhow, the only one sober enough to drive is Steven so Steven piles up his entire family into my car and we drive Tim back to his car. He ends up throwing up in my driveway, bending over my toilet seat for awhile, and passing out in my hallway. By this time, Michelle's calling him off the hook demanding to know where he's at and she storms over to my house with a friend to pick him up.
By this time, I'm sober so I drive Steven and his family home and then crawl into my bed hoping I don't wake up with a severe hang over the next day.
On to the Vegas trip. It was awesome! Let's just say that I had fun gambling, but since I lost more than I won, I don't like it. We stayed at the MGM, where the hotel rooms were sweeeeeeeeeet! I can't even begin to describe them, but I fell in love with the rooms. Talk about luxury. You could fall into that bed and never want to get up.
Anyhow, to make another long story short... I saw the lion habitat, went to see Ka by Cirque de Soleil, saw Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony en concierto, gambled at the Tropicana, The New Yorker, The Luxor, Hooters, MGM, Venetian, and Excalibur, did one of those Italian boat ride thingies, and visited the wax museum and the M&M store.
We did all of this in just two days, and we barely even scratched the surface of what Vegas has to offer. I had a very good time, but next time I go I'm taking my Nike's. Walking was a huge deal there. The hotels alone are over a mile long at least.
I swore to myself I'd only spend $50.00 gambling. I lost at least $100.00. The only compensation I got was towards the end when at the Venetian I won $6.00 on a dollar slot, and then at the MGM I won $11.00 playing the penny slots off a 20 cent voucher. I'm a bit wiser about gambling now. Only play pennies on the penny slots. If you're going to waste a dollar there, do it at the dollar slots. I didn't know that beforehand, but I know that now.
And the shows? The shows are the main reason to visit Vegas. They're expensive, but it doesn't matter. If you ever go to Vegas, you have to see a show. Enough said!
On the way home, we were delayed in Denver due to mechanical problems. They had to switch planes on us and send us all to another terminal. There was a guy there who had ridden with us from Vegas and on. I remember checking him out at the Vegas airport because he was wearing a KU hat and t-shirt. (In fact, there were a lot of KU fans in Vegas this trip but Jenny and John wouldn't let me approach them and bond.) Anyhow, the entire trip home we kept eyeing each other. Even on the plane where he sat diagonally in front of us.
Yes, he's another one for the "what if" books. What if I had broken the silence and started a conversation with him? What if I had secretly handed him my phone number? And the list goes on. I doubt I'll ever see him again. He's just like that guy I remember meeting on the bus in Lawrence years ago. A random stranger I felt connected to if only for a moment.
