PICTURE PAGES! (Las Vegas Edition)

Well, you asked for it, and here it is! The post with all the Vegas pictures! Your hot asses can muster a little more excitement than that, can't you? C'mon, let me hear you say, "WOOOOOO!" That's a little better... but not much. We have a lot to get through here, so I'm going to just pretend like you're playing along with me.

First off, allow me to inform you of the premise of the trip. Tarreck told me that I could pack my bags, invite a friend or two, and that my friends and I were responsible for our airfare. He clearly stated that EVERYTHING else was on him... (And when partying with Tarreck, it's first class all the way!) This was a trip worth getting excited about! Meljoy backed out about a month before the trip, saying that she had to work. Kirsten on the other hand was gung-ho from the start... There was no stopping those of us who were genuinely committed to making this a strong effort!

I met up with Tarreck at the airport and we flew to Vegas together. Kirsten met us at the Vegas airport. We discovered at that time that her luggage had been lost. Even though it was out of my hands, I felt like an asshole when we were standing by the baggage carousel for my flight, and my bag was literally the first one to come out.

But it's hard not to muster a smile once you're safe on the ground and the stretch limo is ready and waiting for your hot ass!


Once at the hotel it was time to get cracking on planning the evening's events! So Tarreck called up Jonathan, my Las Vegas boo-cakes, and his favorite casino host, (pictured later) and got the ball rolling.


I think it's important that we familiarize ourselves with the lay of the land... Here are pictures of the view from our pimp daddy suite. First you see that crap-hole Hooter's hotel and Casino. We didn't even set foot in there, and I can already tell you it was a dump.


There's the "new" Tropicana, (and a parking lot.)


The old Tropicana, the Excalibur (that castle, where the majority of Midwesterners would think it was cool to stay.)


And to the right is the New York, New York... We didn't like it there. (Oh, and there's my hot-ass reflection! Try to contain yourself!)


Tarreck went to get some gambling in, and Kirsten and I made a run to the Caesar's Palace Forum shops to get her something to wear for the evening... And to pose with Marc Antony, Cleopatra, and a Centurion, OF COURSE!


How can you not absolutely LOVE a city this artificial, I ask you!


They had just called to say that they had found Kirsten's luggage... That's the first REAL smile we've seen all day!


Once back at the hotel, Kirsten assumed what she referred to as her "up the butt pose" but there was no time for shenanigans! We got ready for dinner at Diego, where they make your guacamole at the table, and let you make your own salsa!


Kirsten's hot ass is ready to go! (In her spankin' new dress!)


After a delicious Chilean sea bass dinner, we headed to Studio 54, where we sat in the bottle service, VIP upstairs. Here's a shot of Tarreck peering down at the masses.


This is one of those "make it cute, after all, you kids are my partners in crime here," type of pictures.


You know you're doing well when you are able to look down at the elevated table dancers that the rest of the masses have to look up to see.


A blurry shot of the DJ booth, but it was a decent shot of the Studio 54 sign.


OF COURSE there are showgirls dangling from the ceiling on spinning rings! Why, what did you expect?


Man, if I had a nickel for every time I've done that...


They don't look like they've had NEARLY enough to drink! Time to get this party started!


Ok, the liquor has been flowing a little bit by this time...


And one of just the girls! (Kirsten engaged in one of those "long blinks" common to those ingesting alcohol!)


It's a little blurry, but still a cute picture where we both have our eyes open.


That's the look of someone who knows he's earned his self-issued nickname of "Big Daddy Spankbottom!"


Speaking of spank-bottom... Kirsten returned the favor! Look at the tension in the jaw at the moment of contact... A truly well-timed shot!


There are more showgirls, this time with swings! It's all so very Moulin Rouge!


There are all the plebeians! (The serfs, as it were...) Dancing the night away, unaware of the lifestyle they could aspire to, a mere 2 floors above them.


This one is for my few male readers... Some giant, saline, tan showgirl boobs... Personally I rather like the self-satisfied look on Tarreck's face!


Tarreck got Jonathan, his favorite casino host, (and my LV boo-cakes) to come out to meet up with us!


This picture was supposed to be of the bottle-service table, but Tarreck's sitting down dance moves are really stealing the show!


You all have been around here long enough to know that when I am drunk, I am affectionate! Well, there you go!


Kirsten is rocking a very "Old Hollywood" pose here... And Tarreck is telling tales, I'm sure!


The night wrapped up not too much after that... We went to the room for a totally unnecessary nightcap, and some much needed sleep. The next day was spent at the pool, where I totally burnt my back, and where the people-watching was just spectacular! I mean really, who wears a tiara to the pool? You know the people watching is good when you catch a random old guy stop and beach himself on the side of the lazy river a mere 10 yards from an exit, so that he can retrieve a cigarette and lighter from his waterproof lanyard and have himself a smoke... Seriously. He didn't even have to put forth an effort to get to the exit... The current would have carried him there, but apparently he needed his nicotine fix, and he needed it immediately, if not sooner! It loses something in translation, I assure you, but it was wildly amusing in person.

One random sampling of conversation from our poolside commentary:

"Umm, I think you forgot your ass pearls."
"No, you got it wrong... You meant to say 'I think you forgot your ANAL BEADS!'"

The things we say when we don't give a damn who listens!

After the pool, we returned to the room to find that Jonathan had sent us a delightful gift basket of tasty treats. We like that kind of hospitality! The rest of the daylight hours were spent in the casino... They frown on taking pictures while at the tables, so despite the fact that we probably COULD HAVE taken pictures anyway, we didn't. We then had dinner at Tom Colicchio's steakhouse, Craftsteak. We opted to have the Kobe beef surf & turf tasting menu which had a ridiculous price tag, at $170 per person with a 3 person minimum. Despite the fact that I hadn't eaten beef in 8 years, I decided that if we're going all out and ordering some uber-fancy cow, that I was not going to be the asshole to order chicken in a steakhouse of this caliber. And I'll tell you one thing, it was worth it. It was worth the lapse after 8 years, it was worth the price, it was worth everything! We're happy before there was even a drink on the table...


We were REALLY happy with the food came out... IT WAS SENSATIONAL. Here's a food pic for Marcia, and any other foodies out there!


After ingesting that heavenly meal, we ventured off to Tabu for another night of VIP table service. CHEERS!


We joked that if Tarreck had a myspace page, this would be his new profile pic... and that's how he just sits and chats, despite the fact that it looks posed, this is a total candid.


The liquor gets to flowin' and then the dancing starts!


My LV boo-cakes made it out again! (I love that my boob was the only thing that made it into this Tarreck-self-shot photo... Down there in the lower right corner.)


We were literally dancing on a tabletop at this point, though it kind of looks like we're just standing around chatting.


More tabletop dancing... I don't know what's going on with my chin in this picture, or why it looks like someone replaced my jaw bone with a banana...


More of Tarreck's sitting-down dance moves on display!


And a solo-dance for Tarreck on the tabletop again... I think he's busting out the shopping cart move at this point.


In the words of Ebert & Roper, we give it two thumbs WAY WAY up... Though for us, it's gotta be the double guns!


And here's one of me engaged in the "long blink" of inebriation.


I get such a kick out of the tabletop dancing going on in the VIP igloo...


Tarreck looks like he's grooming Kirsten a la the monkeys at the zoo, but hey, we roll with it!


We partied until Tabu was shut down for the night and then went back up to the room for another unnecessary nightcap. In the morning, Tarreck woke me with the news that he would have to leave early to close a very substantial deal. This was quite a pall on the day... But you better believe that we made it count anyway! We got up, got dressed, and headed to the casino. We ventured over to the craps tables, where I learned that my inappropriate comments sometimes surprise even me, and I'm the one doing the talking!

While shooting craps, I rolled a hard 8 (that's rolling a pair of fours for those of you who don't know crap about craps) and another bettor at the the table said, "That's a nice pair!" To which I responded without missing a beat, "Oh, I've got a nice pair for ya!" (I admit that I didn't even think about it, it just kind of came out...) The croupier then responded with, "Umm, yeah, I'll say you do!"

We went to the New York, New York casino, where we determined that they have to be running a more rigged game than most, and had an unlikable staff... We didn't stay there long. Upon reentering the MGM Grand, we passed the Lion habitat... Kirsten stood amazed, while Tarreck just couldn't believe how easily entertained we were.


Kirsten was actually turning to leave the exhibit, and I snapped a quick shot which turned out surprisingly nice, and again looked posed, despite being totally candid.


After that foray into the casino, we had a lovely lunch at Wolfgang Puck's bar and grill, and Tarreck had to go to the airport, so we went up to the room to watch him pack and see him off... But being the awesome guy that he is, he just told us to charge anything and everything to the room and stick around until our originally scheduled departure. So Kirsten and I hit the infamous Las Vegas buffets, because we'd done gourmet meals, and now that we were left unsupervised, we returned to our roots.

After stuffing ourselves silly, and playing the celebrity name game for a considerable amount of time, we took our game on the road. We went to walk off the meal, and decided to see some of the sights outside our familiar stomping grounds at the MGM Grand. We had to get a better shot of the castle known as the Excalibur Hotel anyway!


We then ventured further South into the Mandalay Bay Hotel and casino. While wandering along, we found a restaurant known as Aureole. While we were certainly not hungry, we did amuse ourselves with the exterior decor... And really, it's not a trip to Vegas without at least one picture involving molestation of inanimate objects!


We then ventured northward to the Bellagio, Where we admired the Chihuly glass ceiling.


Kirsten was particularly fascinated!

As much as I am an art nerd, and love Chihuly, I admit that I was far more interested in going out to see the famous Bellagio fountains! So we headed outside. But wouldn't you know that the front garden of the Bellagio is directly across from the Paris hotel... And since Kirsten has a love of all things French, we had to get a picture of her with the pseudo Eiffel Tower.


And just to be kitschy, I posed too! (Don't ask me about that little creeper guy behind me... I don't even know what he was up to! He was probably plotting my demise!)


But once the fountains started up, we were once again fascinated... Seriously who needs to spend obscene amounts of money when you can be entertained for free by cannons firing water into the air!


Upon heading back into the Bellagio, we ran across this character... She was just a crazy townie, all gussied up in her finest sparkly pink spandex, holding her glowing sword aloft...


Kirsten initially proposed that she would act like she was posing in front of a fountain so that I could take a picture of her on the sly, but that really didn't do the lady justice, so I decided to go for broke and just ask her to be in a picture!


We continued our celebrity name game all the way back to the MGM, where we continued gambling into the wee hours of the morning... Though since our financial backer had to go home, we decided to gamble in a format more our speed. The $0.50 video blackjack machines kept us busy, and the waitresses kept bringing the drinks... As you can see here, Kirsten is clutching a glass of Crown Royal on the rocks, while abusing the video screen by poking REALLY REALLY hard for a hit... She poked so hard in fact that she was pretty sure that she did some damage to her finger!


We ventured outside for a little fresh air before returning to the room, but while there, we got a shot of the exterior of the hotel... Though in reality it's green, in the picture it looks quite blue.


The next morning Kirsten had to go, so we got some breakfast, she packed up, and I saw her off. I then took a swim in one of the giant tubs in our obscene suite, and scheduled a 75 minute Swedish massage.

I had a lovely steam before and after my 75 minutes in rubdown heaven, and when I returned to the room, I found that the maid had tidied things up nicely, so I decided to take pictures of our accommodations. It was a two bedroom, two bath suite roughly twice the size of my apartment... There are sitting areas in both bedrooms, but I figure you've seen a chair before, so I skipped those photos. I also figure you've seen a bathroom or two with a jacuzzi tub, double vanities, and a lot of marble all over the place... (Even if you've only seen it on MTV Cribs...) So I skipped photographing the bathrooms as well.

Clearly you can see, we were roughing it... This is one bedroom.


This is a view of the living room area from one end... And that's a wet bar over there to the right.


Here's the other bedroom.


And a view from the opposite end of the living room.


Shortly after my return to the room, I had to pack up and head to the airport. (And back to reality.) I am not kidding when I tell you that returning to the real world after that kind of pampering, and having every want and need catered to, it's just a huge slap in the face and shock to the system! I mean I know that they say that money can't buy happiness, but after a few days of that kind of lifestyle, I'll tell you that if someone wants to sponsor me, I'll happily make a run at testing the theory!

In short, the trip was a strong enough effort that Tarreck has stated that this will most likely become an annual pilgrimage for us since we're kind of awesome. That's something I think I can live with.

In related news, I will never be able to listen to the song lyrics, "Apple Bottom Jeans... and the boots with the furrrrr...." or watch Pulp Fiction or Forrest Gump without bursting into obscene fits of laughter ever again. Kirsten and I both garnered new nicknames, ("McLovin" and "Bo Peep" respectively). And I have one $5.00 chip remaining in my purse just to stimulate memories of the best trip ever at random intervals!

Adventures in idiocy...

So I tried to get pictures up for you all as soon as possible...

I also tried to e-mail the pictures to those who participated in the trip... Herein lies the problem. When I tried to e-mail the pictures, my idiot computer decided to convert every file in the folder to something which essentially can't be opened by most any program.

This SUCKS... A LOT.

However, I am almost always ready for this particular kind of disaster. And luckily in this case I was ready for anything!

I saved all the pictures to my jump drive, and left them on my camera, rather than deleting all in one fell swoop as I normally do... In case you couldn't tell, I had something invested in these pictures and wanted to be sure that they were safely stored in multiple places in the event of just such a crisis.

So I do still have the pictures, in various forms, and you will see them eventually, but it will take me some time to figure out how to get them all sent along via e-mail without messing them up before I'm confident enough to go messing with them on blogger. (I don't want to accidentally jack up my remaining copies!)

Give me until Saturday or Sunday... I'll tackle this bitch yet!

Don't they know who I am?

I'm back from Vegas.

Vegas... Where, with my ridiculous financial backer/cousin, I was treated like royalty and it was obvious that everyone was informed that they were to treat me like the awesome force of nature that I am.

It really is scary just how fast that kind of lifestyle goes straight to your head... After a mere four days of that kind of treatment, I was developing a sick sense of entitlement which, if it weren't for my solid roots in reality, would have made me indignant over having to wait in line at the airport.

I am much too tired to get into everything just now, but let me just say that I had nothing to worry about as far as the LVPD goes, because we were treated like we owned that town! I would happily move there, but I don't always have that kind of financial backing, and even if I did, it would probably not take long before my liver shut down in protest for long-term abuses.

SIN CITY OR BUST!

Ok, my little chickadees! This is the last post before my arrest for solicitation of prostitution or some other such nonsense.

Basically I'm headed to Vegas in the morning, and since my poor ass doesn't have to pay for much of anything, you can bet I'm going to be living it up! Hopefully the LVPD decides to slack off or call in sick until Tuesday, at which point I'm no longer their problem!

The stories, the pictures, the awesomeness is sure to be epic.

This trip will surely be the stuff of legend.

Wish me luck, I'm gonna need it!

And while you're at it, make me a promise...

Promise me that you'll attend either my wedding, my funeral, or my trial... We all know that one of those three options is going to be the result of this trip!

Let's talk....

Allow me to talk about my job for the next few minutes... Because lord knows nobody EVER gets enough talk about their jobs in on their blogs...

Yeah, I know. The blog, especially if kept secret from the workplace, is the first place that a private citizen/blogger goes to babble and complain incessantly about what it is that they do. In keeping with that tradition, I would like to offer my two cents.

So, as you all may or may not know, my salary is based on working a mere 30 hours per week. This might seem well below the standard 40 hour work week that you all may be used to, but I assure you that the 30 hour work week is not easy. (Aside from spending the bulk of those hours in places like the poop house,) The 30 hours is calculated in billable time... So in order to bill 30 hours, I probably have to put in about 45-50 hours a week on a regular basis. And ordinarily, I am fine with this... Despite the low pay which has already been enumerated on multiple occasions.

But this week is different...

I would like to take this opportunity to note the fact that I am admittedly inexplicably pissed off about my job, even more so than usual.

This week, (I have not yet calculated my hours,) I billed a remarkably low amount of time. I had one case close a mere day before I was set to bill another 5.75 hours on it, but I also had two cases drastically cut down before my eyes, and a rash of no-shows and cancellations. (This happens in my business, it's not uncommon, though it rarely happens all at once, so the stark drop in hourly billing is problematic for me.) This is a problem for two reasons.

• One: I have to bill a certain amount before my overtime rate kicks in... When I bill under that amount I don't see the check that I am used to seeing, and thus have issues with paying my bills. The clients see it as, "Oh well, we're not getting our normal time in, but whatever." Meanwhile I am mentally berating them because they are interfering with my cash flow situation. It's not a good scene, and it makes me even more dissatisfied with my work/clientèle than I already am.
  
• Two: When the office sees that you are billing WELL BELOW your weekly quota, they very rapidly get pissy because they have to pay my salary rate no matter what. They don't like this, and they have no qualms about letting you know that they don't like it.

Let's not even get into the fact that despite my poor job satisfaction at the moment, I want to keep up appearances that I actually give a rat's ass. The appearance is totally lost in the translation when for 3 days of a 5 day work week, I billed three hours OR LESS.

Now, mind you, I have called in to take coverage on other people's cases when my shit fell through, but the fact is that nothing came in, so despite the fact that I called in repeatedly to announce that I was going to be in the red on this week's tally, I look like an asshole because I still didn't manage to bill for much of anything. So despite the fact that I did everything I was supposed to do, I still look like an asshole. I'm just lucky that the boss and his wife happen to love me because as far as they are concerned, I play the game. (I'm also lucky that this was not the week that I happened to ask the good doctor for a letter of recommendation to the educational institution which I want to attend, despite the immense desire to do so... I'm nothing if not good on my timing in this regard.)

I wouldn't have a problem with sometimes billing under the mark, but as far as my future goes, I want nothing to compromise anything short of a STERLING reference to my next job, and/or my next educational institution, and the additional fact that all those hours that I got to spend at home because I wasn't billing were technically spent "on call" so it's not like I could enjoy them properly.

I know all of this seems like me being a whiny malcontent, and given that I have a job, and a stable income and a stable home, I am, but humor me, because if I can't be a whiny malcontent here, where can I go?

[It is at this point in the post where I stopped to make a 45 minute call to one of my fabulous gay boys in Chicago for a little sympathy and commiseration.]

I suppose my quandary comes down to a simple question of how do I manage to look like a good little worker bee who gives a damn, when in fact I'm not, and when the circumstances surrounding my caseload seemed to be stacked against me? It's a real pickle!

I welcome any suggestions that you kids may have on the matter! So please, feel free to speak up!

DRINKING COSTUMES!

Ok, so as you are all aware, I recently had what can only be classified as a really ridiculous weekend of intoxication.

While getting to see my college roommate/best friend, and watching the NCAA mens basketball tournament opening weekend all at the same time, served up with copious amounts of alcohol was intoxicating on its own, we added another dimension of fun...

[Enter the drinking costumes:]


To directly quote my introduction to the concept, which was e-mailed to me roughly a week before the actual event, "how do you feel about drinking costumes? because Tricia and I are big on them, and trust me, you may think there's nothing better than drinking, but just mull over this concept for a minute: Drinking while wearing a funny hat. I'm just throwing it out there, because one of my best drinking experiences EVER took place in room 114 at the Red Roof Inn in Canton, OH, and Tricia wore a brown paper bag with eye-holes poked in it and a necktie while drinking a 40. I wore a dress and a winter hat with furry ear flaps."

Needless to say, I am not one to take that kind of challenge lightly, so I took the idea and ran with it.

After Kirsten arrived and we drank A LOT on Friday night, we slept in a little bit on Saturday, but our first stop of the day was a local costume shop known as the Nick-Nackery. Kirsten insisted we go there based solely on the name of the institution. (She had no idea what she was in for!)

The store itself is something of a haphazardly assembled crap-hatchery. (But it is totally endearing in its own kitschy way!) And since it is stocked to the rafters with some of the most bizarre and ridiculous stuff, there is nothing there which is not worth loving.

The basic premise going in was that little (if anything) was to match, and that the more over the top and wild, the better. So that's how it went.

Kirsten purchased a bagged set "Sherlock Holmes hat and pipe," an Uncle Sam beard, and a stuffed parrot to perch on her shoulder.

I purchased a gold sultan/genie hat (complete with beads and purple feathers) and a plastic chest (complete with leather straps and nipple rings.)

As far as being ridiculous goes, we think we got the job done... look at the pictures to make your own assessment... And before you ask, YES, WE DID GO OUT IN PUBLIC IN THESE.


Momma went for a rather sedate look with a sequined hat and sparkly glasses.

You know you're jealous of my 6-pack abs! (And I only had to pay 10 bucks for them, instead of spending all that time and money on a gym membership!)


Kirsten is out to solve the mystery of where that alcohol needs to go...


Admittedly, the beard was a little itchy, so this look was deemed sufficient for the night.


Mom just had to know what it was like to have nipple rings...


Traci, rather surprisingly, had all this stuff at her house already... A star spangled bandanna, cheesy sunglasses, a lasso, the top half of a bridesmaid's dress, a giant belt buckle, camo pants (and a Mr. Rodgers sweater to be seen shortly.)


Ahhhhh.... There it is!


While we're being ridiculous in the comforts of home, why not assume a curious pose...


While out at the bar, Mr. Watson (Kirsten's parrot) needed a smoke.


Mr. Watson was strangely the only one photographed in public, though numerous bar patrons and the entire staff can attest that we were all there in full regalia.

The staff of Taco Bell can also attest to our public display of awesomeness and willingness to humiliate ourselves for the sake of greater amusement!

After a little sleep, a home cooked meal by momma, and more basketball, we opted for a more sedate night in... But with really great accessories to top things off!



Removing all encumbrances, it's time to get down to business!


And it's not a real weekend of debauchery until someone gets hurt... I dropped a wine bottle, obliterated a wine glass, and put a hole in my hand.

But when you're rounding out the night with a glass of Menage a Trois, it's been a good run even with injuries included.


That's how we roll...

Please don't neglect the new textual post below!

Unsatisfied...

Ok, so it is no secret that I am totally unfulfilled by my work these days.

And after 8 years of VERY loyal service, my mom's boss' wife (please note, not my mom's boss, and not someone who has anything to so with the business at all, merely his idiot wife...) accused her of stealing... (Which is laughably ludicrous.) So needless to say, she's a little disillusioned with her current employer.

Basically, it might be a recession, but we're both looking to move on, and hopefully move on in a hurry.

When my landlord called to ask if I was giving my 60 day notice because my lease will be up soon, I told her no, but that I was going to be going month to month.

Basically I'm going to be packing up again soon. (And unlike previous moves, I'm ok with this one, because despite the fact that I utterly loathe and detest my job, I will voluntarily leave my current job with an invaluable letter of recommendation when I go applying to grad school in the market I'm planning to move near for the sole purpose of educational and career advancement.)

In the same vein, I have submitted a sterling resume to a law firm in that area that is actively hiring left and right. (I filled that gap in my work history with some freelance bartending and event planning which I made look FAAAAAAAR more productive and important than it actually was, as you all know.) (Kirsten, who works there, actually assisted me in hand crafting the resume to suit their liking.) And despite the fact that I was told that it might take them a little while to get back to me, I compulsively check my e-mail in the hopes of making a quick exit.

In other, somewhat unrelated news, I have booked the travel for my Vegas trip, and I could not be more excited about it. Let's keep in mind that my cousin and his ridiculous lifestyle are handling pretty much everything financial on this trip aside from the airfare. If I've got to spend the whole trip boozing it up and lounging on my ass next to the pool, then so be it, because when I found out that we are staying as VIPs at the Wynn, I about soiled myself. (And if you took the time to click that link, yes, that is a Rolls Royce in the front page picture.) And yes, I am aware that when we arrive it is entirely likely that we will walk into the lobby and they will turn me around and escort me out saying that they can literally smell the poor on me. But they will be forced to eat a little crow, because ... well ... Because I can tell them that not only am I a guest, I am a VIP. (Mind you that my dear cousin informed me that during his last trip to Vegas he won more than I make in a year, but since he's the one making the reservations, and he's booking for all of us, they will have to love me by proxy.)

The trip is coming up in less than three weeks, so really, I'm almost buzzing with excitement, and I will have no qualms about telling anyone who will listen to my sorry ass just how jazzed I am.

I realize that most will probably miss this post because I am posting picture of my recent drunken weekend immediately above, but what the hell... you deserve the full story if you go so far as to check the title of the post below the pictures to ensure it's something you've actually read.

I love you for reading and essentially validating my existence at this point.

Not Dead Yet...

I haven't died, landed in jail, or the hospital. I am, however, much too tired to properly recap the weekend for you.

Have a good day my loves.

Oh, and Brenda, I believe the drink in the header is modeled on a gibson, but instead of having an olive, it is served with a pearl onion. The yellow object in the glass is a lemon twist which is only the outermost layer of a lemon rind with no actual fruit attached. It does not actually belong in a gibson, and I am confident in saying whomever did the food and beverage styling on this particular shoot had no knowledge of proper drink garnishes.

Kirsten said it best...

"It's like I'm seven, and this has been the week before Christmas... and when I'm driving tomorrow, it'll be like going to sleep to wait for Santa... It is here, but it still feels so far away... I just can't wait any longer!"

I replied with, "I know... I've been telling anyone and everyone who will listen that I'm just so damn excited... and I think it shows... If I had a tail it would have probably fallen off from all the excited wagging by now."

Basically it's going to be a magical weekend of booze, basketball, drinking costumes, and generalized hilarity.

I anticipate either drinking myself into a coma, ending up handcuffed to Kirsten in the back of a sheriff's car, laughing so hard that I manage to develop a 6-pack, or any combination of the above.

It's going to be great!

It's officially a national holiday!!!

Ok, maybe not for everyone else, but for March Madness nuts such as myself, today is the start of something that tops Christmas in my book. (Seriously, this is what gets me through the winter months!)

To top it off, Kirsten will be here in little more than 36 hours. This makes March Madness just that much more awesome.

Basically, I am so giddy, I'm ready to soil myself, and every spare moment will be spent checking the ESPN.com live scoreboards for updates if a TV is not available.

Brenda, in response to your question, I'll be in Vegas in about a month. And it will be GLORIOUS.

As far as plans for the weekend go, you know the basic gist of things if you've read the lengthy post below, but in an effort to illustrate the bigger picture, I'll let you in on a conversation I had with my uncle earlier today. I called and left my uncle a message inviting him to come out for copious amounts of adult beverages and basketball viewing, and he called back with this:

Liz: Hello?
Uncle: You're a woman after my own heart, and you're going to make some man VERY VERY happy someday if you continue calling and leaving messages like that!
Liz: From your lips to god's ears!
Uncle: So basketball and beer, is there a more perfect combination in all of creation?
Liz: No. No there really isn't... And we plan to have our fill of both if you're available to join us.
Uncle: You've got a friend coming into town, you say?
Liz: Yes, and she and I are both of the belief that this weekend should be spent focused on the important things in life; those being sports and alcohol.
Uncle: Well, your aunt is taking off with your cousin on Saturday morning for spring break... Your other cousin is possibly coming home from college at some point this weekend, so I've got some loose ends out there, but once some things are nailed down a little bit more firmly, I'll let you know when I'm available... But seeing as I believe that the first few days of the tournament should be considered national holidays, or at least work-optional paid days off, you can bet that I will be in touch.
Liz: Marvelous... And keep in mind, we're mobile. If you can't come to the party, if you've got beer, the party can come to you!
Uncle: Your parents did such a good job raising you!

And here's a long overdue QOTD:

Traci: "Oh, I might have to bail on you on Friday night... But we'll get together for drinking costumes at some point this weekend."
Liz: "You're bailing on plans with me on a key weekend... There's got to be a reason... Booty call?"
Traci: (Nods)
Liz: "Go on and get yours girl!"
Traci: "I knew you wouldn't be upset... If there was ever anyone who would understand it's you."
Liz: "Hey, I get so little action these days I'm all for promoting it in others just so I know that it still goes on. So make me proud, and go out there and get you some!"
Traci: "Oh I intend to. And I'd have gone even if I didn't have your approval, but I feel better about it knowing that you do approve."

And another QOTD just for good measure:

(I had Traci and Addi over for drinks)
Liz: "Can I offer you an adult beverage?"
Addi: "What have you got?"
Liz: "Well, plenty of mixers, and plenty of vodka... I don't drink gin, so whatever you want will have to be vodka-based."
Addi: "I don't know..."
Traci: "How about a cosmo?"
Addi: "What's in that?"
Liz: "Citrus vodka, triple sec, cranberry and lime juice."
Addi: "Hmmm..."
Liz: "I'm not going to force you into anything, but like I said, it needs to be vodka based because I don't drink vodka...
Traci and Addi: (GASP!)
Liz: "I meant gin... I meant gin! I don't drink gin!"
Addi: "You said you don't drink vodka... I think a fairy just died!"

FYI....

I'm drunkity drunk right now.... It's really the only way I can compensate at this exact moment.


Just so you know, I have had a shitty week at work, including a shitty case conference with "crazy mom," a regular session with crazy mom, and a couple of phone consults with crazy mom...

Basically "Crazy mom" is the bane of my existence at the moment...

(As I've noted. I am REALLY drunk. The typos are the bare minimum I can handle at the moment.)

In addition to my normal level of cancellations and case changes, I've also got to deal with her crazed idiocy.

I can't wait to quit my job, and I've told people at the state agency which my company reports to that I am on my way out... It's really only a question of timing as opposed to eventuality.

(To be honest, I'm trying to figure out a way to use my vacation time before I'm outie-boom-boutie without seeming totally callous and hateful before my 2 weeks notice.)

I've put in for 4 or 5 days of vacation, and I've still got 2 weeks to use up... I am trying to work out exactly how to polish my paid days off by utilizing them before I give my notice because I can just because I can... SHIT.

And with that, I post a few e-mails I've exchanged with my partner in crime: (The partner in crime is the former roommate I'm expecting in roughly a week...)

"Dear Admiral,

First things first, I have sent this to both your personal and work e-mail addresses. I don't want to be a drain on your work time and therefore a cause of stress if that's what this translates into, but I'm issuing this sidebar as a mini distraction to be used at your convenience, be it at home or at work if needed.

Ok, so a few things came to mind after our little conversation earlier.

1) We're going to have to fly to get to Vegas... Do we need to drug you up to manage that? It can be arranged...

2) We have some serious bar decisions to be made. As I said already, Friday night is BAR X for sure. I'm thinking a driving tour might be in order to make informed decisions about the rest... We'll figure that out down the road though, I'm sure.

3) At some point we will have to call to my cousin to discuss the Vegas plans... We'll all book flights together, that way we show up together, and whatnot. (So it would probably be best if you brought whatever charge card or account info needed to book the flight.)

4) At some point we will work on hand crafting my resume to suit the HR folks at your firm.

5) We will drink 40s on my deck.

6) We will hang out with momma at some point... and possibly grandpa. Just Momma is better, but that was a given.

7) We might run into my brother's place for a beverage, but while the food is good, they are grossly overpriced for a march madness weekend, so we won't stay long. This is quite typical for interaction involving interaction with my brother.

8) As for March Madness, despite the fact that we are both grossly under-informed about this year's tournament prospects I think it is key that we determine a time to teleconference about our selections sometime after selection Sunday... The call might end up being pared down from our normal 4-5 hour range to a mere 2-3 hours since we both readily admit that we don't know much of anything this year. We will both probably need to make multiple copies of our brackets, as I'm sure that at least one will end up in a toilet at Bar X or some other local bar over the course of the weekend.

I think I've really hit the high points... (There will be a check list upon your arrival to ensure we accomplish all of our goals.)

Please feel free to add any thoughts of your own on the matter. (I promise not to berate you for the response, as I am interested in your input.)

Thank you, that is all."

The admiral's reply:

"In no particular order:

1) Vegas. Yes. I'm getting hyped. I will have my credit card all warmed up and ready to go. But yes, we will probably need to dope me up A LOT for the flight. I currently have a vicodin that is so high powered it's not even really called vicodin anymore, but I don't see that lasting until april....

Also, I have become excited about the notion of properly supplementing my wardrobe for this trip. I think that while we are in vegas we should get really dressed up and then walk the street with some alcoholic beverage (the trashier the better - maybe gin and juice?) just because i'm told we are able to do that- walk the streets with alcohol, that is.

2) Multiple copies of brackets. Why have I never done this before? I find myself having to dry out the same beer soaked bracket over and over again because for some reason it never occurs to me to just hit up the xerox machine. I'm thinking next Tuesday for our teleconference. What do you think?

3) I think resumes and 40s go hand in hand. usually. or that's what some scholar told me anyway. That scholar being myself, when incredibly intoxicated. We'll just have to make sure we don't decided to create and in turn submit said resume when too far under. I can see "air-types 400,000 words per minute" becoming a really hilarious idea for something to put as a specialized skill, but in real life, that's not that funny.

4) how do you feel about drinking costumes? because Tricia (the admiral's sister) and I are big on them, and trust me, you may think there's nothing better than drinking, but just mull over this concept for a minute: Drinking while wearing a funny hat. I'm just throwing it out there, because one of my best drinking experiences EVER took place in room 114 at the Red Roof Inn in Canton, OH, and Tricia wore a brown paper bag with eye-holes poked in it and a necktie while drinking a 40. I wore a dress and a winter hat with furry ear flaps.

5) I just want to say that there is really no way this trip can go wrong unless we both end up in Jail. We can do a driving tour and pick the most appealing looking places, just based on gut instinct, or we can at a later time develop some other comical methodolgy for choosing our establishments."

To which I replied:

"Ok, so YOUR vicodins might not last until April, BUT... (In case you didn't catch it, the "BUT..." is where I become just slightly more awesome.) I conserve my good drugs like you wouldn't believe. (This is one of the things where working in social services where random drug tests prevents recreational drug use, and that BLOWS, because if anyone earns the right to abuse drugs because of their work, it's we measly little social workers, but...) I still have damn near a full prescription of Lortabs from when I had my wisdom teeth pulled. I also have my migraine meds which are usually good for a healthy dose of unconsciousness... We'll make something work. While you are here, I can provide you with samples to test at your leisure... be it legal or otherwise, because I don't give a rat's pink ass.... It might make me a technical drug dealer, but A) you don't live in my state and B) you don't have kids, and C) I don't intend to collect on compensation for the drugs, so you're not going to end up a client by any stretch... Either that, or I'll see what I can do about having my mom use her magical powers to call in a prescription of some kind of pain killer or something to knock your ass out cold. Either way, this is not an issue for major concern, we can handle it.

When you mention "getting really dressed up" and walking the streets of Vegas with beverages, I feel the need to clarify how you mean "really dressed up," (I'll back the bill either way, but just so we're clear, I'm going to filibuster for my own personal amusement with mental imagery.) If you mean by "dressed up" donning a super- trashy sparkly tank top, and pants constructed at least partially from spandex, and perhaps a hat beaded in sequins to look like a flag, (which tragically, I do own) because that would go with a "the trashier the better" type of beverage (I don't drink gin by the way, but we'll figure something out, I'm sure, but I digress...) Then I might have to think about this "dressing up" prospect... I mean yeah I've got an outfit or two that I could employ, it's a matter of figuring out if we're trashing this up right, or if we're "dressing up" as in the otherwise mentioned "drinking costumes." As for the drinking costumes, YES. YES. YES. I don't have a whole lot of drinking costume-worthy attire, but even if it means we've got to make a quick run to the nick-nackery (yes it's a real place) or to the goodwill store, we're gonna make this worth our while!

As for the multiple copies of brackets, I don't know why you've never done this before... I always print off at least 3 blank copies, and make at least 2 copies of my completed brackets. That way I've got my original, copies in case the original gets damaged or shit on, (as has been known to happen in past years,) and then at least one optional bracket for the "head vs. heart" picks, better mascot, better team colors, you know, whatever the criteria are for any given year's "optional bracket." How this has managed to escape someone of your vast march madness fervor (at least equal, if not greater than my own) is just beyond me! It's a tragedy of the highest order to be sure.

The resume will NOT be sent after consuming any kind of alcohol, pending sober proof-reading I, too, see the comedy in air-typing 400,000 WPM being wildly amusing after a few proper rounds, but in the harsh light of day we might have to disable the wireless internet while working on the resume to ensure nothing gets sent in as the direct result of a colossal error in judgment. I somehow don't see "master complainer, part-time self-destruction aficionado, and genuine sports enthusiast" being great "special skills" selling points to the fine folks over at your firm*, but hey, if we're a few sheets to the wind, it might make it on there. Who knows...

As for your assessment that the only way that this trip can go awry is if we end up in jail... Umm, personally, I'm of the belief that if we end up in jail, that is a highlight and illustrates the fact that we're doing it right! (They'd have to put us in isolation though, because I would run an all-too-high risk of running into my client base down at ye olde county clink.) And hell, a police cavity search would be the most action I've seen in a LONG time, so what the hell! We're gettin' arrested! As far as bar selection goes, there are no really great bars here, (I mean there are a few greats, but they are great in all the wrong ways,) so we really can't miss by using whatever selection available to our alcohol-limited faculties.

This trip keeps getting better and better in my mind. We're going to have to live up to some pretty high standards, so you better bring your A-game, Admiral"

As I've gotten more and more inebriated during the composition of this post, I've become less and less able to judge the merits of this post, and the e-mails, but you are smart, so you get the gist of the e-mails....

(*anything delivered in italics is subject to substitution to changes)

Meh... Welcome to my life, drunken or otherwise...

ACK...

Ok, so I'm trying to figure out a little something of moderate importance.

I'm trying to figure out how much money to set aside for my upcoming trip to Vegas.

Here's the thing. I will be going with my cousin. He will be financing pretty much everything aside from my gambling and my plane ticket. I'm not a big gambler, and the plane ticket is not really an issue. But I've never been to Vegas, and I have no idea how much money I should earmark for this little adventure. It's just a long weekend. Nothing too crazy.

Like I said, I'm not a huge gambler, and I'm ok with finding other entertainment, and playing the nickel slots or whatever.

So any thoughts?

It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything. - Tyler Durden in Chuck Palahniuk's masterpiece, "Fight Club"

Ok... So. I've hemmed and hawed for a good long while about this. And I've decided that I am just going to come out with my dirty little secret.

Point blank: I HATE my job. I hate it with an ocean of contempt and the fire of a thousand suns. I'm only keeping it at the moment so that I have money coming in until my lease runs out in a month or so, and I am free to move again. (My long stint of unemployment did firmly solidify that one should do everything in one's power to keep the money coming in until alternative sources of income are located... Anyway...) I have told no one from work about this site, and I feel pretty safe in saying that nobody from my office has bothered to do enough searching on my boring ass to find it on their own, so in addition to baring my soul here, I'm just owning my disgruntled worker status and wearing it proudly for all the world to see. And let me tell you that owning it the way I've decided to do is more than a little liberating.

(On a related note, you all WILL get the benefit of my horror stories once I am no longer under any kind of contractual obligation to maintain my silence about the horrors of my work... So just be patient.)

I will preface the remainder of this post by indicating that my partner in crime, and former college roommate Kirsten will be coming to visit me in a couple of weeks. And with my excitement for her visit, and my contempt for my job, I lovingly crafted the following e-mail to Kirsten who is very much aware of the situation.

"Ok, so here I am, working. Which roughly translates to me being a miserable sonofabitch. We know this... It's pretty well a given. What are also given are fantasies about some kind of great dinner looming on the horizon after the conclusion of a visit which seems to stretch into perpetuity when one has an empty stomach. (Hopefully that dinner includes something with BBQ or bacon in the title of at least one item.) There are also the equally if not more prominent fantasies about a life which doesn't so closely resemble a colossal diarrhea fountain, or what translates to a pretty much life-long continual bout with a serious case of the herp, or anal warts... Neither of which are actual problems of mine, but god does have a sense of humor, so it's really just a matter of time before my naughty bits are burning. But I digress.

The fact is that while I was dreaming of a better life, I naturally thought of your impending trip to [city of residence redacted.] And then someone in one of my visits asked a fairly mundane question about one of my favorite topics-- The all-encompassing glory that is the NCAA men's b-ball tournament. And after our conversation the other night, I was naturally operating on a piqued interest. And wouldn't you know that Friday the 21st of March, (also known as the day of your arrival) is OPENING DAY OF THE TOURNAMENT! I mean I knew the timing was close, but I didn't know it was quite this perfect!

I don't think I've ever been so excited in a supervised visit! EVER. And certainly not lately! I think I actually got a big creepy grin on my face, because when one of the people in the visit asked what was going on, I just noted that I was really excited about something, and that I was in fact so excited that I think a little bit of pee came out... (Yeah, I actually said that to a client... Because I currently have so little regard for this job.)

Speaking of little regard for my job, the company founder was delivering a speech during this morning's weekly staff meeting, and he was talking about how we have to drive all over hell's half acre, and how this job is tough enough as it is, and we shouldn't have to stress about the time to get from A-to-B ... Yada, yada, yada... And at the conclusion, he asked if anyone had any questions, comments, or observations... Being emboldened by my current desire to get shit canned so that I can collect unemployment and take advantage of the system like my clients do, I raised my hand. I definitely had something to say... Basically, I felt a strong and sudden NEED to call out the boss in front of the WHOLE staff. (And we're not a small agency.) I noted that yeah, we do have to drive all over hell's half acre to do this goddamn job. And that doesn't come cheap when gas is $3.20 a gallon. So then I asked if they were planning to help us out with that cost at all. My question was met with a look of shock from the good doctor, and a round of applause from the gallery. I have since heard my praises sung by many of my fellow underlings who share in my frustrations... It wouldn't surprise me if the bosses were plotting my doom. Either way... I'm operating on the Chuck Palanhniuk/ Fight Club philosophy that losing all hope is freedom... I mean there is no hope for improvement, so might as well use the freedom to vocalize what everyone else is thinking. (I mean might as well let everyone out there see just how awesome I am, even if I'm not going to stick around!)

Just thought I would share that bit of info."

Seriously. That is where I'm at right now. And considering I just had my taxes done and found out that I'm getting fucked over by the boss yet again, monthly reports are due tomorrow, and I had to work on my goddamn day off, my disposition is not improving... Basically I'm in that "Fight Club" phase where "Jack" is still at work, but that anarchist seed has been planted, and it starts to show around the office. It's really only a matter of time before I stage a fake fight with the boss in order to get a tasty settlement out of it... Or something.

Here endeth the most honest post I've composed in quite some time.

Death warmed over...

I apologize for my shittiness as a blogger lately. You might as well lump me in with all the recent quitters, and those emo kids!

I'd have something more interesting for you otherwise, but the fact is that I think I caught the plague or something. Seriously, I feel like death warmed over, and it hurts to move. This might be that nasty flu bug that everyone is going on about, but I don't know anything for sure. I mean I'm not seeing purple spots in my bathtub or anything, but I only started feeling crummy tonight, so there's still time for non-narcotic hallucinations!

Think of me, and if you pray, please talk to that god of yours and beg him to make it easy on me, either by letting this ailment run its course in a hurry, or by letting me die quickly rather than suffering for an extended time.

It's 10 PM and I'm going to bed, and considering I don't think I've gone to bed at 10 since I was 11 years old, I think we all know how miserable I am!

UGH!