Posts Tagged ‘vegas’

Tired from the previous two days, well actually exhausted from the previous two days, the hubby and I slept in.  I scrounged for some food amongst the feast I had made hubby order the night before.  I’d again eaten very little, so I was extremely hungry!  I made a little breakfast of leftover rolls and half a hamburger patty.   Yum….

I don’t feel like going into much detail about the day so suffice to say we walked about, shopped, ate, drank, relaxed with friends, and generally enjoyed ourselves.

We spent a little too much time with other people for my taste, as I was hoping for a little one on one time with the hubby since I hadn’t seen him for more than a few minutes in weeks.  That last day in Vegas was long on activities, short on romance, but that seems to be the way of things lately.

I’ll just add it to the tally of romantic dates alone he owes me.  He can start working them off sometime after our son goes to college.  By then he’ll owe full years!


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Being the intelligent person I am, I scheduled a massage for myself and a friend Friday morning, despite the fact I knew I’d want to go out the night before.  Perhaps I didn’t anticipate just how excited I was to get a mommy’s night off. I was very very excited, and Friday morning, that excitement had turned into pain.

I peeled my eyes open at 9:30am, knowing I needed to get dressed and ready for my 10:30 spa appointment.  I lay there for quite a while, trying to muster the strength to get out of bed and into the shower.  Nausea overcame me.  Ohhhhh no.  Well, I didn’t have time to order breakfast anyways, so I was just going to have to survive until after my massage.

Out of the shower and down to the lobby, I must have looked a sight.  No makeup, dark circles, wet hair plastered to my head, a tunic sweater thrown over my jeans.  I don’t even remember what shoes I was wearing.

Focusing on walking, I made it to the spa.  My birthday girl was waiting for me, looking well rested and perky.  Grrrr!  I pondered just telling the spa attendant to give her whatever she wanted before making a bee-line back to my room, but I hung in there.  The nausea was now coming in waves.  No time for chit chat, I just needed to focus on one task at a time.  Get my locker.  Change into robe.  Walk to waiting room.  Make sure the birthday girl had everything she needed.  Follow attendant into inner sanctum of the spa.  I did not pay attention to how I got to the inner sanctum, which made leaving interesting.

A quick bathroom trip and I was a little less green around the gills.  At least I’d be able to survive the massage.  It was extremely relaxing, but did nothing for my hangover.  Meeting up with the birthday girl post massage, I quickly paid it all off and headed back.  I was relieved she’d enjoyed her massage even if I’d been terrible company in the little time we’d spent together in various waiting rooms.

I crawled back into bed minutes after the spa released me.  I fumbled with the phone, begging someone anyone at the front desk to bring me Dramamine.  I finally ordered a sandwich as well, having not eaten in nearly 24 hours.

Things began to improve dramatically once both of these items arrived, though the bell man who dropped off the Dramamine looked at me a little warily (in case you didn’t know, Dramamine is an awesome hangover remedy.  It combats nausea and dizziness, while making you sleepy so you can usually nap off any remaining hangover side effects).  I ate about a quarter of my sandwich, a handful of fries, and went back to bed.

Around 2 pm I started to feel noticeably better and began getting ready for the wedding and reception to come.  I actually made it to the wedding on time, fully dressed and made up.  I decided to skip the party bus following the ceremony in favor of a nap and met everyone up at the reception.

To my joy, my husband finally joined us at the reception just after it started.  And though I was still a little shaky, a few bloody marys and a few appetizers made the rest of the night pretty darn good.

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I apologize for the rather short and terse post last thursday afternoon.  To make up for it, here’s breakdown of my weekend in the first of a few posts.

I dropped off Baby C at my parent’s house, which only took about an hour and a half to drive from LA to OC, meaning I was already running late.  My benevolent father then drove me to the airport after I snuck out of the house before C could cling to me and cry.  This was accomplished by using food as a distraction.  I am not above bribing children with food.

After being dropped off at the airport about an hour and 20 minutes before my flight, I began to breath a slight sigh of relief, despite my somewhat frazzled, single state (that’s right still no husband in sight).  This relief was short-lived as I saw the line for Jet Blue.  WTH?!?!?!  If you’ve ever been to the Long Beach airport, you know that it’s about the size of a postage stamp and typically very easy to navigate.  Lines are short, security is fast, waiting areas are small.  My tension began to rise as I worried about my decision to bring a check-in bag rather than a carry-on.  Trying not to have a panic attack in the airport, I waited in tense silence as I inched ever closer to the bag drop line.  Watching the clock tick minutes past, I had only a five minute window to drop my bag when finally it was my turn.  And when my bag weighed a full 3 lbs under the 50 lb cutoff, I actually did a little dance of joy!  Woo hoo!

Still, I was running late.  I had to get through security, hopefully get a bite to eat as it was now 7:30pm and I’d had no dinner, before stepping on the plane.  Again, I hit a snag.  Security took too long, so food was out of the question.  Well, maybe I could at least get a drink.  Nope, the tiny bar (I’ve seen larger bars in friend’s family rooms) was over-run by an amateur soccer team, and I mean amateur in every sense of the word.  Well, at least I could get a drink on the plane.

A few more minutes tick by and we’re on the plane.  The amateur soccer team is harassing the flight attendants.  As we’re taxing down the runway, I hear one of the flight attendants threaten to go back to the gate.  At that I felt a very strong desire to start throwing things.  Thankfully some of the other passengers also heard this and were none too happy.  I guess the boys finally realized their behavior is somewhat inappropriate and shut up.  Thank goodness!

Oh, did I mention that my flight was alcohol free?

At least it was only 50 minutes.

Upon landing a friend was waiting for me at the airport in Vegas, we grabbed a taxi and headed for the Bellagio.  I checked in, grabbed my bag and my friend and headed to the room (Still no husband).  We quickly changed, well not so quickly.  I tried on three rather trendy outfits before opting for a more classic look of black skirt, black knee-high boots, grey “luxe” shirt with a necklace pattern and rhinestones.  At least I’d gotten my hair done that day so I didn’t have to worry about that!  Whew!

We finally started our night around 11pm.  I was excited!  Friends, alcohol, music, alcohol, dancing, alcohol.   In the course of the night I perhaps got a little over excited about the alcohol since I’d not had dinner.  Here are some of the highlights, in roughly chronological order.

Our waitress at the Bellagio lakeside bar was surly and slow.  To compensate for this, I began ordering two Kettle and tonics at a time.  I also tried to talk other members of my group to do the same.  I only convinced one of them, another was already pretty tipsy, and the third wanted to go to bed (and he mocked me for ordering two!).

After a certain person went to bed, we decided to go to head out of the Bellagio.  But not having been to Vegas recently, none of us knew where to go and also being slightly drunk at this point we were easily talked into going to a club that offered $20 all you can drink well-drinks for ladies!  Great!  What we need at this point in the evening is more alcohol!  And a club that is offering such a sweet deal would definitely be the place to go!

Oh, but it was not.  I wanted to leave after we got a our first drink.  I could not convince the other two girls that we should do this.  We were all summarily punished for this.

We were harassed by, well, everyone.

And then we met the Canadians.  Although they were not wearing anything with either Maple leaves or Canadian flags, I was able to properly identify them as our Northern neighbors after hearing a few of them use those long, tell-tale Os.  My friend then apologized to the Canadians for her racist, profiling drunk friend for calling them Canadians.  That’s right, racist.  However, the Canadians happily informed her that I was actually correct and then proceeded to talk about how great Canada was for the next 2o minutes.  I also informed one of them that he looked like my favorite handy man Mike Holmes.

The three of us then argued about bachelorette parties, trips abroad, whether or not I was racist towards Canadians (we decided I actually wasn’t racist).  We then left the casino “early” for bed.  There is some debate about what time that actually was, ranging from 3:30 to 5am.

Still no husband in sight, one of my friends stayed with me in my otherwise empty room.  But apparently wanted to punish me for allowing her to be my roommate for the night by not allowing me to eat at whatever time we got home, despite the fact I still hadn’t eaten since lunch.

Vodka for dinner is never a good idea.

Needless to say, this made for a very long day/night two.  Part two tomorrow.

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