old acting up

Once we arrived at the hotel, we grabbed a Bloody Mary and a little breakfast. Then waited for our room to be ready while resting poolside enjoying a fruity cocktail or two.

After checking in, and waiting for far too long for our bags to be delivered up to our rooms, we went in search of a little snack of wine and cheese.

Giggling during stories of toys and QVC-like ways to sell them, watched like a train-wreck during the ski weekends many of us had recently shared.

At one point we were a bit horrified by what the waiter overheard. Until we realized he has probably heard worse, much worse. After all, he is a waiter in Vegas.

We returned to our rooms and some of us primped, while some of us napped (me).

Then headed out to a club for the night, completely suspicious of the VIP cards the guy handed us at the pool. Expecting to have to wait in a very long line, we weren't too worried about finding our friend whose flight had been delayed considerably.

A minute later we were about to head into the club free of charge with our passes, a bit surprised that our VIP was actually working. I excused myself from line to wait for our friend.

Once she arrived, we headed inside, and up some stairs. And up more stairs, and up more even yet. Past floor after floor of club, unsure where they were sending us, or how we'd ever find our friends in this enormous club.

We finally were on the roof. I started to pick my phone out of my purse in hopes someone felt the vibration from a Where are you? text, when I saw them, standing close to the bar, looking a little bored.

We grabbed a drink and joined them. Trying to talk over the music, dancing some, despite the bachelorette's wounded knee. Mostly gawking at the outfits. We dressed in some of our best going out in Vegas attire, and still we were a bit frumpy compared to the crowd.

The music was great, and several of us were having a bit of fun, but our bride was not. So we left, thinking we would return after finding a little dinner.

That never happened. The many drinks of the day and the sleep deprivation set in, and resting up for the bigger night seemed like the way to go. Apparently as one of the girls said, our old was acting up.

silly slogan

We had a slogan for the weekend. One I shudder to type, as it may very well get the wrong sort of person stopping by. But the way we came up with it is funny, so I suppose the story should be told...

When shopping with the bachelorette before the trip, another friend who was meeting us for the weekend asked me what we were all taking to wear. I texted her back something to the effect of, We're porn shopping. Then said something about e-mailing her the following day with what we were packing.

If you know me, know my friends, particularly this friend, you would know how absolutely silly this comment is. We talked about "Vegas" outfits, which although a bit risque for us, would be very normal, not at all risque, in Vegas.

And so, when the first two of us arrived at the airport, I texted the bachelorette and our other friend arriving shortly afterward. I of course started off with Vegas baby! And then began to type that we were sitting by such-and-such baggage claim.

Well, you know how your phone predicts the next word you might want to type?

Right. So, when I began with we're, my phone predicted I wished to next write porn. From the exchange during the shopping trip.

I showed my friend, and we started laughing, outrageously, because in our got-no-sleep-before-our-crack-of-dawn-flight state, it was about the funniest thing ever.

And we had our slogan for the weekend. We're porn.

Ha. Ha ha.

what happens in Vegas

... wait, what happened in Vegas?

Some don't remember, some prefer not to say, some just grin slyly, making those that ask imagine the worst.

And that's just fine with me.

We had a fantastic time. There are stories. Some I will tell, some I can't. They're not mine to tell.

Right now I have to drag myself to work. It's going to be a long day.

frogs in Vegas

An evening of excruciating swimsuit shopping. Made bearable by the sweet sales girl at the swimsuit shop and the incredibly nice women in the dressing room insisting I buy the awesome dress and top for Vegas.

Closing the mall for the second night in a row. I left feeling slightly defeated. (Don't get me started on how much I hate shopping when I have a deadline and something in mind that should exist, but doesn't.)

When I finally got home, there was a package on my doorstep. What had I ordered? Nothing that I recalled.

It was a book. Trish's book. My little invitation to board the Team Frog Tour Bus.

So, at 1am, after I finished work that had to be done by this morning. I did something I rarely do when not on vacation, I crawled into bed and opened to the first page.

Forty some pages later, I forced myself to put it down and get some sleep.

I already know I love her writing style. And relate to her life (at least as portrayed on her blog), perhaps a little too well, but so far the book is even better than I'd anticipated. I can't wait to read more.

So, for my trip tomorrow, not only do I have a great new dress, sassy "Vegas top", 2 new swimsuits (neither of which I love), but a book I'm actually looking forward to reading.

Stay tuned for my review and/or Q&A with Trish. But based on solely the first few chapters, I highly suggest that you get out and get yourself a copy of He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not!

I'll be reading it poolside between naps tomorrow, while we wait for our rooms to be ready. Although I must admit, I am looking forward to kissing a frog or two this weekend. It is Vegas afterall.

Happy Earth Day

weekend respite

It's over. Finally.

I finally feel like I have time to breathe.

After we wrapped up the technical back-and-forth on Friday, I enjoyed a margarita with my fellow board members. We congratulated each other on a job well done.

Very well done, in my completely unbiased opinion.

Declining various offers of another margarita, we got everything packed up. Then I headed home to quickly pack some more.

Up to the mountains one more weekend. This time without the girls. No one else staying with me but TheDog. To relax and hit one more area's last weekend.

I joined my sis-in-law for skiing on Saturday. Enjoying the perfect bluebird skies. Although the sunshine made for a little too much slush, it was just what I needed. As I've said before, as long as there are boards on my feet and snow (or something like it) beneath them, I'm happy.

Apres ski, my sis-in-law and I headed out to listen to a little Robert Randolph and people watch. It was a beautiful day. Followed by a fun night. Playing with my nieces. Dinner. And a viewing of Awake.

Sunday was a solo day. To recharge and relax. Before a long week, which is actually a short one. More outrageous fun planned for next weekend.

falling short

Asked by a friend why I let his text bother me, the only response I could come up with was I don't know. I also don't know why sitting in the sunshine on the deck gazing out at snow-covered peaks a few days ago, the thought that popped into my head was of him.

That he would have enjoyed the day. The sun. The beer on the deck.

I enjoyed the day. It was amazing. The company was amazing. But sitting across from another, laughing at his jokes, only made me wish it were him.

Therein lies my answer. Although I'm working on it, I'm not yet completely over him.

That's why it still bothers me. That's why his words hurt still. Why hearing from him still makes me sad, makes me miss him. Why his offers of friendship, although always abandoned soon after, only remind me of how he always said the right words only to be followed by his actions falling short.

a few reminders

Kept up by an old man's uncomfortable cries. Sleeping through the alarm. Leaving late for work.

None of that a big deal. Until the text calling me on it. Three words, making me a little sad and a little mad at the same time.

He's still tugging the strings. Two months later. He's still checking in on me. It bothered me. For a while. Then I got a few calls from other guys.

One to pick up the old man, because that's what friends do. Another to plan our trip in a little over a month. Another a continuation of our conversation over the weekend.

Each of them calling me out on little things in our conversations.

Reminders that guys, and friends, don't make you mad or sad, even when they're teasing you.

A reminder that everyone needs friends at times. Now go tell my good friend Happy Birthday, even if he doesn't want to hear it.

photo Friday #8

Mountain View

Berthoud Pass, Colorado
(March, 2008)

As a well spent day brings happy sleep,
so life well used brings happy death.

Leonardo Da Vinci

thinking of you

Concentration is eluding me. There is one week until the big day. The pinnacle of my last year. And I don't really care anymore. There's too much family stuff going on. More important than my job and work other than work .

I've been spending lots of time with my mom. My sister had no interest in joining us when we asked her to long ago, before she was expecting. But now she's mad. Jealous even.

I think it's simply because she doesn't feel well. At all. She doesn't like the things we've been doing, anyway. But she's being horrible to me. And to my mom.

We're both just trying to let her be frustrated. But it's not easy. And it's really not easy on my mom.

Over soup and salad tonight, my mom and I talked about her. About how tough it must be for her to be so sick. We feel badly for her, but it's tough to be there for someone that keeps pushing you away.

Then the conversation turned to Gran. It's almost been a year since she left us. Sometimes it's as if it all happened yesterday. I miss her so. We all miss her so.

Tonight after my mom headed home, I decided I needed to send a few flowers. To my sis, to help her feel better, and to thank her for TheDog-sitting while I gallivant about this weekend. And to my mom. On Saturday. Just to let her know I'm thinking about her.

update

Thank you everyone for your well wishes for my sister and the wee one. She's home from the hospital, but still not feeling that much better. At least baby is doing well. Even if mom feels terrible.

Other entertaining stories soon. Promise.

to be sure

My mom e-mailed to tell me my brother-in-law had taken my sister to the hospital. I immediately called his cell. No answer. I called my parents. My mom answered.

Supposedly she's alright. Just ridiculously dehydrated from "morning" sickness.

I plan to stop by after my meeting anyway. To be sure. I'm sure I should cancel my meeting, as I won't be able to concentrate. But getting it over with so it's not hanging over my head might be better.

lapse into pathetic

It tasted so wonderful. And it wasn't even my favorite kind. But apparently a nearly two-month hiatus from all kinds will make any kind taste like nectar from the gods.

Although it was only a beer. It was delicious.

Perhaps made even better by being free. And the exchanges of laughter and the entertaining stories that accompanied it.

Inevitably, the crowd started to dwindle until it was only two. My friend (and boss) and I. We talked for a bit until he mentioned he had to get home to his wife and kids.

I said I needed to get home to TheDog. Then in my one-beer tipsiness, I blathered on about how lame it is that all I have is a dog that wants to see me at the end of the day.

It wasn't until I was in my car on my way home that I realized just how utterly pathetic my blathering was. And how lonely I felt, when everyone else I work with had somewhere to go or someone to see, and I just had a dog to feed.

Not that the woe-is-me lasted all that long, but I'm sure it sounded just that way to my friend.

losing it

I kept hearing something downstairs. Like something or someone was moving around down there.

I mentally assessed what would happen if it were like the last time. But I knew that I set the alarm before I went to bed. And locked the steel part of the doggie door. So it couldn't be.

But I kept hearing the noises. I was too tired, or perhaps just too scared, to do anything more than check to be sure it wasn't TheDog, as she was asleep at the foot of my bed, and grab the tazer out of my bedside table.

Yes, I now sleep with a tazer next to my bed. And no, I don't want someone to ever get close enough that I need to use it, but it sure helps me to sleep when I imagine someone walking around in my own house. Uninvited.

After trying for many hours, I finally fell asleep.

This morning, I double-checked, and the alarm was indeed on. Doggie door locked. And nothing seemed to be amiss.

When I was getting ready to leave, I could not find my keys anywhere. So, I disarmed the alarm, and checked the front door. Which I had apparently left unlocked. Not that that mattered, because I had, indeed, left the keys in the door.

Maybe I should be a little less concerned with strangers coming through doggie doors and setting off my alarm in the middle of the night. And more concerned with someone walking right through the front door. Not only because I forgot to lock it, but because I invited the neighborhood with my keys swinging in the lock.