So, I’m up and off bright and early tomorrow for Las Vegas. I was really only half-serious when I mentioned it in passing last week. I do like that if I suggest something moderately realistic out of the blue, James will usually agree to it. I could probably take advantage of this loophole more than I do. A few New Year’s Eves ago I told him to “pick up a bottle of champagne, nothing expensive” and he thought I said something expensive, like I’d ever demand such a thing, but he did it which I thought was strange. My expectations must suck because I usually assume that if I ask for something I’ll be told no. Maybe I should start being really ballsy and demanding.
So, “hey, we should go to Las Vegas next weekend” garnered an easy, “okay.” I don’t know shit about Vegas (I have been to Nevada, maybe twice, possibly three times but I only faintly recall any of it because I was under four. Both my grandma, great-grandma [pronounced gramma--I recently got made fun of for saying grampa. That’s just the way it is, grandfather looks correct on paper but it doesn’t sound right coming out of my mouth] and aunt who was barely a teen, resided in a Dayton mobile home park in the early ‘70s. My undeniably spotty Nevada memories only include: people driving in golf carts to get the mail, a Siamese cat named Telstar, thinking that Truckee River was the most hysterical geographic name I’d ever heard [clearly, I wasn’t aware of Boring, Oregon yet], seeing hummingbirds furiously flapping their wings into a blur, driving L.C. [Little Cat] the black and white family feline we had for nearly another decade back home to Burlingame, CA, and getting freaked out by my great-grandma Weaver’s husband’s fake shiny leg you could see between his pant hem and sock top. I swear I saw it propped up against a bedroom wall but I might be false wishful remembering).
Las Vegas is just a random something to do and kind of a consolation because every year I sulk about doing nothing on Christmas, so in a way I’m trying to trick myself into having fun this weekend so by the 25th I’ll have mellowed out on my holiday annoyance. I don’t really gamble, I just want to drink and drive around (maybe not in that order) and eat buffet food and In N Out Burgers. If I come back proclaiming that Beatles/Cirque du Soleil coupling as genius, you’re welcome to beat me with a poorly made prosthetic leg.