Top Five Things I love about Las Vegas
1) Unabashed Gaudiness: If you're gonna do it, do it big.
2) Great hairdays: No humidity!
3) Infused Margaritas at Taqueria Canonita in The Venetian
4) The ease with which you can meet new people!
5) Being able to travel all over the world (Manhattan, Paris, Venice, etc) on a two-mile strip of road
Top Five Things I'm thankful for now that I'm back in Georgia
1) Modesty and Classiness
2) Moisture! Everything was SO dry; we were parched the entire weekend.
3) Sweet Tea
4) The color green: trees, grass, and flowers!
5) Being able to sleep an entire night without feeling like a loser :)
5.31.2005
Viva Las Vegas!
Four days and a very little amount of sleep later, I'm back home in Macon. What a great trip! We got there at around 9 pm Pacific time, but, after Ben's luggage got lost (Elizabeth and I didn't check anything) and we had a fiasco with the rental car, it was after 11 before we arrived at our hotel. Not bad, right? Well, considering the time difference, it felt like 2 am. We were absolutely exhausted. Who knew that it could take SO long to get across the country? Ben went straight to bed, but Elizabeth and I walked around the Aladdin (our hotel) a bit before crashing for the night.
We got an early start the next morning, so we had a chance to sit out by the pool. Nothing like lounging in the sun on the roof of a fancy hotel with the Eiffel Tower on one side and the Manhattan skyline on the other! We then left for a lunch of flatbread pizza at a place called Olives in the Bellagio across the street. Delicious! Here's the view from the front of our hotel.
Saturday afternoon, Elizabeth and I toured around the different hotels and casinos, plus we got our picture with the Las Vegas icon, Elvis. Seriously ... what's Vegas without him?
Saturday night was the highlight of our trip. On my sister Beth's recommendation, we went to a little Mexican Soul Food restaurant called Taqueria Canonita (in the Venetian) in order to get what she had dubbed "The World's Best Alcoholic Beverage EVER". It was the Infused Margarita, and it was made with tequila infused with pineapple and vanilla beans. Oh. My. Goodness. It was delicious. I ate some barbeque pork dish that was cooked in a banana leaf. Our particularly charming waiter (nod to Justin) stressed that it was the best thing on the menu even after I skeptically mentioned that we were from Georgia and knew a thing or two about good bbq pork. Definitely glad I took his recommendation. So yummy, and SO not like the bbq here.
Sunday morning, Elizabeth and I went over to the Paris hotel next door and had a champagne brunch buffet, complete with mimosas. Unfortunately, we ate a little too much and had to remain seated for a couple of hours of complete misery. haha! Sunday night, we went to see a show at The Rio called "Tony and Tina's Wedding". I have to say that it was the most unusual thing I've ever seen! Basically, you're a guest at this white trash Italian couple's wedding. There's the drunken minister, the pregnant maid of honor, the gay brother of the bride, and the ever-popular bridesmaid catfight. We ate the wedding buffet and wedding cake, danced with the father of the groom (Angelo), did the limbo, and participated in the wedding party toasts. It was a blast! Ben, unfortunately, didn't last very long. We did get a chance to take this shot right before he left to answer the call of the poker room in the casino outside. What a good sport!
For the rest of the evening, Elizabeth and I finished up seeing the hotels that we hadn't yet seen, then returned to The Aladdin for a deceptive 2-hour nap before leaving for the airport at 5 am. The flight home was just as long as the one there, and I was SO glad to be back in my own bed early last night for a full night's sleep.
So, my suitcase is now unpacked and put back in the closet where it will remain until its next big adventure. Where will it go? I have no idea, but I can't wait to find out.
We got an early start the next morning, so we had a chance to sit out by the pool. Nothing like lounging in the sun on the roof of a fancy hotel with the Eiffel Tower on one side and the Manhattan skyline on the other! We then left for a lunch of flatbread pizza at a place called Olives in the Bellagio across the street. Delicious! Here's the view from the front of our hotel.
Saturday afternoon, Elizabeth and I toured around the different hotels and casinos, plus we got our picture with the Las Vegas icon, Elvis. Seriously ... what's Vegas without him?
Saturday night was the highlight of our trip. On my sister Beth's recommendation, we went to a little Mexican Soul Food restaurant called Taqueria Canonita (in the Venetian) in order to get what she had dubbed "The World's Best Alcoholic Beverage EVER". It was the Infused Margarita, and it was made with tequila infused with pineapple and vanilla beans. Oh. My. Goodness. It was delicious. I ate some barbeque pork dish that was cooked in a banana leaf. Our particularly charming waiter (nod to Justin) stressed that it was the best thing on the menu even after I skeptically mentioned that we were from Georgia and knew a thing or two about good bbq pork. Definitely glad I took his recommendation. So yummy, and SO not like the bbq here.
Sunday morning, Elizabeth and I went over to the Paris hotel next door and had a champagne brunch buffet, complete with mimosas. Unfortunately, we ate a little too much and had to remain seated for a couple of hours of complete misery. haha! Sunday night, we went to see a show at The Rio called "Tony and Tina's Wedding". I have to say that it was the most unusual thing I've ever seen! Basically, you're a guest at this white trash Italian couple's wedding. There's the drunken minister, the pregnant maid of honor, the gay brother of the bride, and the ever-popular bridesmaid catfight. We ate the wedding buffet and wedding cake, danced with the father of the groom (Angelo), did the limbo, and participated in the wedding party toasts. It was a blast! Ben, unfortunately, didn't last very long. We did get a chance to take this shot right before he left to answer the call of the poker room in the casino outside. What a good sport!
For the rest of the evening, Elizabeth and I finished up seeing the hotels that we hadn't yet seen, then returned to The Aladdin for a deceptive 2-hour nap before leaving for the airport at 5 am. The flight home was just as long as the one there, and I was SO glad to be back in my own bed early last night for a full night's sleep.
So, my suitcase is now unpacked and put back in the closet where it will remain until its next big adventure. Where will it go? I have no idea, but I can't wait to find out.
5.26.2005
I'm so money.
You wanna know one of my favorite things to do? Packing a suitcase. Why? Because it means I'm going somewhere. Anywhere. I could be packing to housesit for a friend a few doors down, and I'm still excited. I've become a packing expert of sorts, figuring out all the tiny little nooks and crannies of my bag in order to most efficiently use every inch of space available. For a person who hates to organize, I'm ridiculously proud of my packing abilities. It's a gift, I swear.
So I'm writing about this talent of mine because I'm currently making good use of it as I prepare to leave for Las Vegas tomorrow morning. My friend Elizabeth and I are heading out there with another friend, Ben. We're staying at a 4-star hotel on The Strip. I've booked a ticket to see Mama Mia at Mandalay Bay Theatre. We're doing it all: impersonator shows, the fountains at the Bellagio, vanilla-pineapple margaritas (my sister swears they're the best) at the Venetian. You name it, it'll be done. I can't wait.
Perhaps I like traveling so much because of what it's done for me in the past. My life was changed by a trip to Europe when I was 21. I know that sounds so cliche, but it's true, and maybe one day -- when I'm lacking sleep and inhibition -- I'll explain why. Reasons aren't important. The fact is that going to the airport, boarding a plane, stepping off a few hours later in a strange land where *something* will be different from the world I know (be it something as simple as a West Coast accent or as complicated as a Czech language), eating and sleeping and living this strange way for a few days or weeks or months, and, finally, coming back home to The Familiar is exhilarating to me. It gives me a taste and an appreciation of another way of life of which I formerly knew nothing, and it allows me to more fully love Home and all of its comfortable comforts.
Perhaps I'll write about my trip when I get back on Monday. Then again, if "what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas," perhaps I won't.
So I'm writing about this talent of mine because I'm currently making good use of it as I prepare to leave for Las Vegas tomorrow morning. My friend Elizabeth and I are heading out there with another friend, Ben. We're staying at a 4-star hotel on The Strip. I've booked a ticket to see Mama Mia at Mandalay Bay Theatre. We're doing it all: impersonator shows, the fountains at the Bellagio, vanilla-pineapple margaritas (my sister swears they're the best) at the Venetian. You name it, it'll be done. I can't wait.
Perhaps I like traveling so much because of what it's done for me in the past. My life was changed by a trip to Europe when I was 21. I know that sounds so cliche, but it's true, and maybe one day -- when I'm lacking sleep and inhibition -- I'll explain why. Reasons aren't important. The fact is that going to the airport, boarding a plane, stepping off a few hours later in a strange land where *something* will be different from the world I know (be it something as simple as a West Coast accent or as complicated as a Czech language), eating and sleeping and living this strange way for a few days or weeks or months, and, finally, coming back home to The Familiar is exhilarating to me. It gives me a taste and an appreciation of another way of life of which I formerly knew nothing, and it allows me to more fully love Home and all of its comfortable comforts.
Perhaps I'll write about my trip when I get back on Monday. Then again, if "what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas," perhaps I won't.
Movement
I did it. I'm moving. Officially. So it's just across town, but it's still big. To fully grasp the magnitude of this step, you have to understand a little about me and how I live. I'm a pack rat of sorts. I have enough *things* to fill a full-sized house, yet I've never lived in anything bigger than a one-bedroom apartment. Moving, for me, is an ordeal. A huge one. First of all, I have to find boys who are willing to move me. After I complete that task (easier said than done), I have to try not to scare them away when I warn them to take their allergy meds because I have cats. Cats who shed. and, after two years of living in one place, that nasty stuff accumulates behind couches and chairs and under beds, only to be discovered when one of the nice young gentlemen who have so wonderfully agreed to give up a Saturday to help me moves that particular piece of furniture. It's quite humbling, really, having friendsthatareboys seeing into such a personal, private part of my life. Oh, and I'm ridiculously and stubbornly and pridefully independent, so the whole time I'm apologizing profusely for having to ask for anyone's help in the first place. Did I mention that this is an ordeal?
The saddest part about leaving, this time, will be saying goodbye to the family under whom I live. I'm in a basement apartment, and over the past few years this particular family has really taken me in as a friend, rather than as a tenant. They were the first people I met in Macon. My first friends. They have two beautiful little girls who love me and call me Mirs and ask for my cats immediately upon seeing me walk in the room. I was around when one of them was born. Sure, I'll see them at church and at work, but it won't be the same.
Still, I'm pleased. The place where I'm moving, although not any cooler or more charming than the place I'm in now, is at least half the distance to work. Plus, it's in the neighborhood where 95% of my friends live. I'll be saving on gas, and I'll feel more in touch with everyone else. It's a good thing. Really.
If any of you young men are in the Macon area on June 25 of this year, feel free to stop on by and move a couch for me. Just remember to take your Allegra.
The saddest part about leaving, this time, will be saying goodbye to the family under whom I live. I'm in a basement apartment, and over the past few years this particular family has really taken me in as a friend, rather than as a tenant. They were the first people I met in Macon. My first friends. They have two beautiful little girls who love me and call me Mirs and ask for my cats immediately upon seeing me walk in the room. I was around when one of them was born. Sure, I'll see them at church and at work, but it won't be the same.
Still, I'm pleased. The place where I'm moving, although not any cooler or more charming than the place I'm in now, is at least half the distance to work. Plus, it's in the neighborhood where 95% of my friends live. I'll be saving on gas, and I'll feel more in touch with everyone else. It's a good thing. Really.
If any of you young men are in the Macon area on June 25 of this year, feel free to stop on by and move a couch for me. Just remember to take your Allegra.
5.25.2005
Lost
Is anything out there better than the television show Lost? I don't think there is. I've just finished watching the season finale with some friends of mine, and I've gotta say that those writers are absolutely and amazingly creative. Certainly two hours of great entertainment.
I'm so tired I can barely stay awake to type. The good news is that I don't have to be at work until 9:15 tomorrow, which is just the start of a wonderfully lazy summer! I'm going to Las Vegas on Friday, and I'm so excited. I've never been before. Will I gamble? Hmmm. We'll see. I could certainly use a multiplication of my finances, but I'm afraid it'd end up being more divisive. I wish that I were more of a risk taker. I'm working on it. My friend Charlie says that I need to be more aggressive and stop apologizing about everything; cussing someone out every now and then can be a good thing, he says in a not-so-delicate way. Then again, he also thinks I need to learn to swoon in order to stop being "one of the guys". I therefore think I should take all that he says with a grain of salt. Charlie -- you know we love you.
Hello as well to my new friend Anson, who discovered tonight that I'm attempting this blog thing. Read my first post; it'll tell you more what to expect, or, I should say, what not to expect.
'night.
I'm so tired I can barely stay awake to type. The good news is that I don't have to be at work until 9:15 tomorrow, which is just the start of a wonderfully lazy summer! I'm going to Las Vegas on Friday, and I'm so excited. I've never been before. Will I gamble? Hmmm. We'll see. I could certainly use a multiplication of my finances, but I'm afraid it'd end up being more divisive. I wish that I were more of a risk taker. I'm working on it. My friend Charlie says that I need to be more aggressive and stop apologizing about everything; cussing someone out every now and then can be a good thing, he says in a not-so-delicate way. Then again, he also thinks I need to learn to swoon in order to stop being "one of the guys". I therefore think I should take all that he says with a grain of salt. Charlie -- you know we love you.
Hello as well to my new friend Anson, who discovered tonight that I'm attempting this blog thing. Read my first post; it'll tell you more what to expect, or, I should say, what not to expect.
'night.
A Technical Wonder
I dedicate this blog to my friend Rebecca, who has walked me through the process to get my profile picture posted exactly where I wanted it. Thank you, friend. You have now not only given me countless extra hours of fun in the United Kingdom (that's another whole blog topic in and of itself), but you have also increased my technical prowess tenfold. I bow to your genius.
I can't post any more at the moment. I have 20 or so singletons from my church awaiting my arrival at a pizza party across town. May not be across town soon, though ... just today,I have looked into another apartment that is right in the center of things here in Macon. That statement, of course, begs the following questions: Is there a center of things in Macon? Are there even things in Macon?
And on those perplexing thoughts, I'll leave you. Ta. And hats off to Reba.
I can't post any more at the moment. I have 20 or so singletons from my church awaiting my arrival at a pizza party across town. May not be across town soon, though ... just today,I have looked into another apartment that is right in the center of things here in Macon. That statement, of course, begs the following questions: Is there a center of things in Macon? Are there even things in Macon?
And on those perplexing thoughts, I'll leave you. Ta. And hats off to Reba.
5.17.2005
And Blog I Shall
Here's the thing: I am no blogger. I don't keep a regular journal; I don't write down fantastical little sayings or words in a tiny ragged and yellowed spiral notebook that I always have with me. I don't spend hours on the Net reading what others have to say about politics, religion, or what they ate for dinner the night before. Am I a writer? Sure, if being a writer means that I like to write. Am I any good? Well, that remains to be seen. By the world, as it turns out.
My friend Rebecca has convinced me to give this a try. Personally, I think it's highly arrogant of me to assume that anyone would want to read anything that I have to say. However, as another friend pointed out to me the other night, no one who doesn't want to read has to read. I have a summer before me with no big plans. So, here is my attempt at getting back into the world of words. It's been a while.
My plan is to write as I feel led. Most days I probably won't, but some days I may have multiple entries. I'm not boxing myself in. I'm going to start this just as a journal of sorts, with no literary intention whatsoever. If, in the future, my ramblings turn to something a little more creative, then so be it. For now, I'm not expecting anything, and you shouldn't either. Here, perhaps you'll find glimpses of my daily life, my often-strange thought processes, and any other little tidbit that might have interested me at some point during the day.
I can't believe I'm doing this. Please, be kind.
My friend Rebecca has convinced me to give this a try. Personally, I think it's highly arrogant of me to assume that anyone would want to read anything that I have to say. However, as another friend pointed out to me the other night, no one who doesn't want to read has to read. I have a summer before me with no big plans. So, here is my attempt at getting back into the world of words. It's been a while.
My plan is to write as I feel led. Most days I probably won't, but some days I may have multiple entries. I'm not boxing myself in. I'm going to start this just as a journal of sorts, with no literary intention whatsoever. If, in the future, my ramblings turn to something a little more creative, then so be it. For now, I'm not expecting anything, and you shouldn't either. Here, perhaps you'll find glimpses of my daily life, my often-strange thought processes, and any other little tidbit that might have interested me at some point during the day.
I can't believe I'm doing this. Please, be kind.
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