9:49pm- Meet friend for drinks after work. Have delightful conversation and then drive her home. She invites me in to see newly decorated house. While crossing street, trip over the smallest of pavement cracks. Knees bruised. Shins scrapped. Wrist tweaked. Only had one drink, dammit! Tiny pebble lodged in hand causes crazy infection and blood poisoning.
Other than that, pretty good day.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Thursday, February 22, 2007
When I Dip, You Dip, We Dip
8:19pm- Treat self to another series of spa treatments at Burke Williams Spa (previously mentioned buy-one-get-one coupons good for 2 visits). During paraffin dip portion of pedicure look down to note that wax-covered right foot appears cadaverous. Glance left, toe tag.
Other than that, pretty good day.
Other than that, pretty good day.
Saturday, February 17, 2007
You Spin Me Right Round, Baby
9:44am- Discover we are going to be overstaying standard tourist visa by 3 days while in Egypt. Decide to call consulate to see if we can get extended visa before departure. Even though I call on Saturday, man answers straight away. I like. Then we get in ridiculous conversation that swirls around and around without resolution. Dizzy, I trip over own feet and crash down stairs, neck broken.
Other than that, pretty good day.
Other than that, pretty good day.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Stuck Pig
8:19pm- Go to JC Penny’s to help boyfriend pick out suits for upcoming business trip to England. Every god-living shirt has like 92 bazilion straight pins secretly tucked inside just waiting to pierce my flesh. I come out of dressing room looking as if attacked by mass-murdering acupuncturist.
Other than that, pretty good day.
Other than that, pretty good day.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Sorry Again, Fans
11:10am- Quit band. Immediately become uncool, unpopular, and unlovable. MC Hammer comes to read me last rites.
4:15pm- In a hurry to do good job, maintenance worker runs me over with giant cart of tools while I wait for elevator at work.
7:10pm- Having postponed Valentine’s plans with boyfriend in order to be good friend to girls I love, head out to dinner. Get caught in unexpected traffic on Embarcadero. Stop. Go. Stop. Go. Inch forward at snail’s pace. Clutch foot grows weary. Blood boils.
Other than that, pretty good day.
4:15pm- In a hurry to do good job, maintenance worker runs me over with giant cart of tools while I wait for elevator at work.
7:10pm- Having postponed Valentine’s plans with boyfriend in order to be good friend to girls I love, head out to dinner. Get caught in unexpected traffic on Embarcadero. Stop. Go. Stop. Go. Inch forward at snail’s pace. Clutch foot grows weary. Blood boils.
Other than that, pretty good day.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Et Tu, Beauty?
11:02am- Procure buy-one-get-one free coupon for treatments at Burke Williams Spa. Due to unforeseen circumstances, friend must cancel her treatment putting my own in jeopardy. Panic. Envision death of my simple dream, which is to have body rubbed with hot stones and various health-enhancing unguents. When you dreams die, what is there left to live for?
2:02pm- Am alerted to the untimely demise of feminist and role model, Anna Nicole Smith. Die of shock!
Other than that, pretty good day.
2:02pm- Am alerted to the untimely demise of feminist and role model, Anna Nicole Smith. Die of shock!
Other than that, pretty good day.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Sorry, Fans
8:12am- Find out our mighty awesome band didn’t get into SXSW Music Festival. Crestfallen. Drooping chest and head cuts off air supply.
Other than that, pretty good day.
Other than that, pretty good day.
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Bring Out Your Dead
4:12am- Carrot Top! Your grotesque Eric-Stoltz-in-Mask-like countenance haunts my nightmares. You have driven me to early grave!
9:01am- Wake up with what feels like hatchet cleaved between lobes of brain. Decide must just be hangover, but then notice pool of blood and wooden handle protruding from forehead.
11:12am- Graciously treated to buffet breakfast by friend of friend who won $1000. Unfortunately, it is Excalibur’s Buffet Breakfast which basically consists of slop buckets of gruel leftover from Middle Ages. Immune system fails to fight off time traveling parasites and microbes. Wooden card wheeled out to collect my putrefying remains.
11:30am- Ride the Luxor’s Inclinator one last time. It’s herky-jerky sideways motion causes me to lose footing and be trampled in stampede of people in hurry to checkout of hotel.
12:14pm- Enter the reconstructed burial place of Tutankhamen at Luxor Hotel & Casino. Mistaken for tomb raider and shot dead on the spot.
12:39pm- Discover a Little Caesar’s Pizza inside Luxor. Did anyone know those even still exist? Obviously, must order Crazy Bread with Crazy Sauce. The double whammy causes instant insanity. Scratch face down to bone. Onlookers horrified.
12:41pm- Am forced to listen to same clip of Artie-fucking-Lange promo over and over while enjoying aforementioned snack. Finally snap, bum-rush television screen and punch it with both fists. Lacerations so extensive, no doctor can staunch blood flow.
4:04pm- Determined to ignore any and all Super Bowl activities, am dragged against will to Sports Book at Mandalay Bay to meet up with boyfriend’s friends. After calling out, “why don’t you people all get a life?!” am tackled to the ground and bludgeoned.
6:12pm- Splurge for dinner with gigantic bacon cheddar cheeseburger and greasy steak fries. Heart attack.
7:18pm- Use my Player’s Club Card chips from previous night to either make it or break it at Blackjack table. Break it. Become hobo. Untimely death-by-overdose goes unacknowledged on the harsh streets of Sin City.
9:02pm- Stand in line at airport security acting critical of every stupid ass who gets up to the X-ray machine and then doesn’t have a clue what to do next. Like, hello? Have you ever flown before or read a damn sign, you fucking waste of meat?! When it comes to my turn, I have jacket off, shoes off, belt off, all set to go. Oh wait! My LIQUIDS! They’re stuffed somewhere in my bag. Zip, zip, unzip, shuffle, zip…where ARE they? Finally find them after holding up line for 2 minutes. Egg on face. Suffocate.
10:44pm- Fly back to SFO without aid of Xanax, making me fully aware of plummeting to death once plane loses wing. Wheeee!
Other than that, pretty good day.
9:01am- Wake up with what feels like hatchet cleaved between lobes of brain. Decide must just be hangover, but then notice pool of blood and wooden handle protruding from forehead.
11:12am- Graciously treated to buffet breakfast by friend of friend who won $1000. Unfortunately, it is Excalibur’s Buffet Breakfast which basically consists of slop buckets of gruel leftover from Middle Ages. Immune system fails to fight off time traveling parasites and microbes. Wooden card wheeled out to collect my putrefying remains.
11:30am- Ride the Luxor’s Inclinator one last time. It’s herky-jerky sideways motion causes me to lose footing and be trampled in stampede of people in hurry to checkout of hotel.
12:14pm- Enter the reconstructed burial place of Tutankhamen at Luxor Hotel & Casino. Mistaken for tomb raider and shot dead on the spot.
12:39pm- Discover a Little Caesar’s Pizza inside Luxor. Did anyone know those even still exist? Obviously, must order Crazy Bread with Crazy Sauce. The double whammy causes instant insanity. Scratch face down to bone. Onlookers horrified.
12:41pm- Am forced to listen to same clip of Artie-fucking-Lange promo over and over while enjoying aforementioned snack. Finally snap, bum-rush television screen and punch it with both fists. Lacerations so extensive, no doctor can staunch blood flow.
4:04pm- Determined to ignore any and all Super Bowl activities, am dragged against will to Sports Book at Mandalay Bay to meet up with boyfriend’s friends. After calling out, “why don’t you people all get a life?!” am tackled to the ground and bludgeoned.
6:12pm- Splurge for dinner with gigantic bacon cheddar cheeseburger and greasy steak fries. Heart attack.
7:18pm- Use my Player’s Club Card chips from previous night to either make it or break it at Blackjack table. Break it. Become hobo. Untimely death-by-overdose goes unacknowledged on the harsh streets of Sin City.
9:02pm- Stand in line at airport security acting critical of every stupid ass who gets up to the X-ray machine and then doesn’t have a clue what to do next. Like, hello? Have you ever flown before or read a damn sign, you fucking waste of meat?! When it comes to my turn, I have jacket off, shoes off, belt off, all set to go. Oh wait! My LIQUIDS! They’re stuffed somewhere in my bag. Zip, zip, unzip, shuffle, zip…where ARE they? Finally find them after holding up line for 2 minutes. Egg on face. Suffocate.
10:44pm- Fly back to SFO without aid of Xanax, making me fully aware of plummeting to death once plane loses wing. Wheeee!
Other than that, pretty good day.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
The Day After
12:20am- Determined to be the good girlfriend who indulges boyfriend with view of breasts-not-my-own, arrive at the Forty Deuce in Mandalay Bay. What is billed as Burlesque turns out to be warmed over drill team dancing with tops on, thank you. Mid-performance, dancer smashes lightbulb with 5-inch heel sending shrapnel flying into crowd. Seriously regret front row seat.
1:13am- Sitting at the video poker arena/bar inside the Luxor, boyfriend and I meet up with Steve the Conference-goer Guy. He’s from Long Island. He’s out on business. He’s got a loving family. And, as it turns out, a penchant for opportunistic, gore-filled murder sprees.
2:02am- Some douchebag named Artie Lange of Howard Stern fame is performing at Luxor. It’s an All-Douchebag bill apparently, seeing as how Carrot Top is squatting here as well. After his performance, Mr. Lange comes sauntering out of show with bimbo women draped upon his doughy frame. People pull out camera phones while he preens and poses in smugness. Appalled by this awkward dance of minor celebrity worship, I take off running towards his beer belly target. Hitting him square, we both knock to the ground where overreactive groupies descend, tearing me limb from limb.
11:46am- Adorable boyfriend wants to enjoy birthday lunch at Del Taco. Who am I to deny such a simple request? Order Nacho Supreme. Contract supreme case of E. Coli.
12:33pm- Riding “The Deuce” down the Las Vegas Strip. (No, not a euphemism, it is simply the new double-decker bus that drives so slowly, you’d think time has stood still.) Sit next to hugely irritating Southern girl who complains every split second, “We’re not even moving! Why aren’t we moving? *Sigh* *Sigh* God DAYY-MN it!” Unable to deal any longer, do Nestea plunge off doubled-deck.
1:32pm- Take elevator up to top of Stratosphere where I receive phone call from boyfriend’s birthday surprise. Excuse self to bathroom to return call and make secret plans to meet up in hour. To cover up for extended stay in bathroom while boyfriend waited impatiently, lie about sudden bought of intestinal distress. As punishment for dishonesty, fates sock me with fatal dose of irony.
1:42pm- Taking in awesome view of city while idiots put selves in peril on various “thrill-rides” atop Stratosphere. Shake head in self-righteousness. Causes unexpected dizziness. Lose footing and plummet over 100 stories.
3:02pm- Arrive at Hilton so boyfriend can go hog-wild at Star Trek experience. Little does he know, best friend has flown in from Seattle to surprise him at Quark’s Bar. Get to bar, no sign of best friend. Awkwardly excuse self. Make frantic call. Go back to bar. Wait. Still no friend. Aneurysm.
3:14pm- Best friend and friend of best friend finally appear. Boyfriend’s face is total confusion. Suddenly, he makes connection. Face lights up like spotlight atop Luxor. Die happy.
3:33pm- Attacked by Borg.
4:19pm- Friend of best friend wins $1000 at video poker. Green with what I think is envy. Turns out to be meningitis.
5:01pm- Ready to party, order dry-ice-and-rum-filled Warp Core Breach at Quark's Bar. After three sips, am beamed to a planet far, far away where I am tasered for mixing sci-fi metaphors.
5:45pm- Get picture taken on deck of Enterprise. Boyfriend sits in Captain’s Chair with me and best friend flanking him for good measure. Attempting realism, play-act pressing buttons on control panel. Does not turn out well for anyone involved.
7:55pm- Attend Tournament of Kings dinner show at Excalibur (where signage proclaims, “I Rule!). Me + Mead + Jousting = Impalement
9:41pm- Am seduced into signing up for Casino Player’s Club Card. Kick self over and over causing massive blood clot.
11:02pm- Blurry-eyed and overly-intoxicated, run into Steve the Conference-goer Guy again. Damn, that is one business professional with an appetite for carnage.
Other than that, pretty good day.
1:13am- Sitting at the video poker arena/bar inside the Luxor, boyfriend and I meet up with Steve the Conference-goer Guy. He’s from Long Island. He’s out on business. He’s got a loving family. And, as it turns out, a penchant for opportunistic, gore-filled murder sprees.
2:02am- Some douchebag named Artie Lange of Howard Stern fame is performing at Luxor. It’s an All-Douchebag bill apparently, seeing as how Carrot Top is squatting here as well. After his performance, Mr. Lange comes sauntering out of show with bimbo women draped upon his doughy frame. People pull out camera phones while he preens and poses in smugness. Appalled by this awkward dance of minor celebrity worship, I take off running towards his beer belly target. Hitting him square, we both knock to the ground where overreactive groupies descend, tearing me limb from limb.
11:46am- Adorable boyfriend wants to enjoy birthday lunch at Del Taco. Who am I to deny such a simple request? Order Nacho Supreme. Contract supreme case of E. Coli.
12:33pm- Riding “The Deuce” down the Las Vegas Strip. (No, not a euphemism, it is simply the new double-decker bus that drives so slowly, you’d think time has stood still.) Sit next to hugely irritating Southern girl who complains every split second, “We’re not even moving! Why aren’t we moving? *Sigh* *Sigh* God DAYY-MN it!” Unable to deal any longer, do Nestea plunge off doubled-deck.
1:32pm- Take elevator up to top of Stratosphere where I receive phone call from boyfriend’s birthday surprise. Excuse self to bathroom to return call and make secret plans to meet up in hour. To cover up for extended stay in bathroom while boyfriend waited impatiently, lie about sudden bought of intestinal distress. As punishment for dishonesty, fates sock me with fatal dose of irony.
1:42pm- Taking in awesome view of city while idiots put selves in peril on various “thrill-rides” atop Stratosphere. Shake head in self-righteousness. Causes unexpected dizziness. Lose footing and plummet over 100 stories.
3:02pm- Arrive at Hilton so boyfriend can go hog-wild at Star Trek experience. Little does he know, best friend has flown in from Seattle to surprise him at Quark’s Bar. Get to bar, no sign of best friend. Awkwardly excuse self. Make frantic call. Go back to bar. Wait. Still no friend. Aneurysm.
3:14pm- Best friend and friend of best friend finally appear. Boyfriend’s face is total confusion. Suddenly, he makes connection. Face lights up like spotlight atop Luxor. Die happy.
3:33pm- Attacked by Borg.
4:19pm- Friend of best friend wins $1000 at video poker. Green with what I think is envy. Turns out to be meningitis.
5:01pm- Ready to party, order dry-ice-and-rum-filled Warp Core Breach at Quark's Bar. After three sips, am beamed to a planet far, far away where I am tasered for mixing sci-fi metaphors.
5:45pm- Get picture taken on deck of Enterprise. Boyfriend sits in Captain’s Chair with me and best friend flanking him for good measure. Attempting realism, play-act pressing buttons on control panel. Does not turn out well for anyone involved.
7:55pm- Attend Tournament of Kings dinner show at Excalibur (where signage proclaims, “I Rule!). Me + Mead + Jousting = Impalement
9:41pm- Am seduced into signing up for Casino Player’s Club Card. Kick self over and over causing massive blood clot.
11:02pm- Blurry-eyed and overly-intoxicated, run into Steve the Conference-goer Guy again. Damn, that is one business professional with an appetite for carnage.
Other than that, pretty good day.
Friday, February 02, 2007
Lordy, Lordy, Look Who Will Never Be 40
12:00 am- After checking in to Luxor Hotel & Casino in honor of impending Egypt trip, head to Mixx over at Mandalay Bay. On way up in glass elevator, boyfriend checks watch and remarks with the voice of one resigned, “Welp, I’m officially forty.” On cue, elevator plunges downward. At least he made it to forty. I, however, am forever 32.
10:21am- Indulge at Bellagio Buffet. Stuff self to point of suffocation. Not wanting good, gently-digested food to go to waste, Buffet staff slice open belly and display me at carving station.
12:13pm- At boyfriend’s request, visit Atomic Testing Museum. Do I even have to describe what happens here?
2:02pm- After engorging on radiation, attempt to head back to The Strip. Walk to Terrible’s Casino to catch cab. None show, which isn’t surprising considering name. Walk to bus stop. Try to wave down cabs while waiting for bus. Fellow bus waitee attempts to be helpful by pointing out hotel where cabs might be better caught. As we get just out of range of bus stop, bus appears. Attempt to run back towards it. Bus departs. Miffed, decide to walk. Walk fast enough to keep pace with bus caught in insane Vegas traffic. Feeling fit and healthy decide to just walk whole way. Overcome by exhaust fumes.
7:59pm- Take boyfriend to fancy meal at Eiffel Tower Restaurant at Paris Hotel & Casino. We dine while enjoying view of Bellagio fountains and each other’s countenances. Gamely order venison, which comes slightly browned, but basically raw. Eat it anyway to prove self to be true gourmet. Contract CWD, more commonly referred to as Chronic Wasting Disease, or if you're feeling trendy, Mad Deer.
Other than that, pretty good day.
10:21am- Indulge at Bellagio Buffet. Stuff self to point of suffocation. Not wanting good, gently-digested food to go to waste, Buffet staff slice open belly and display me at carving station.
12:13pm- At boyfriend’s request, visit Atomic Testing Museum. Do I even have to describe what happens here?
2:02pm- After engorging on radiation, attempt to head back to The Strip. Walk to Terrible’s Casino to catch cab. None show, which isn’t surprising considering name. Walk to bus stop. Try to wave down cabs while waiting for bus. Fellow bus waitee attempts to be helpful by pointing out hotel where cabs might be better caught. As we get just out of range of bus stop, bus appears. Attempt to run back towards it. Bus departs. Miffed, decide to walk. Walk fast enough to keep pace with bus caught in insane Vegas traffic. Feeling fit and healthy decide to just walk whole way. Overcome by exhaust fumes.
7:59pm- Take boyfriend to fancy meal at Eiffel Tower Restaurant at Paris Hotel & Casino. We dine while enjoying view of Bellagio fountains and each other’s countenances. Gamely order venison, which comes slightly browned, but basically raw. Eat it anyway to prove self to be true gourmet. Contract CWD, more commonly referred to as Chronic Wasting Disease, or if you're feeling trendy, Mad Deer.
Other than that, pretty good day.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
And So It Begins
6:54pm- First trip to Vegas on Frontier Airlines. Last trip to Vegas on Frontier Airlines.
Other than that, pretty good day.
Other than that, pretty good day.
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