Sunday, November 21, 2010

Desert Smesert

It's really fricking cold all of a sudden. For a few weeks there, Vegas really had me fooled. I thought we might have another mild winter. But, no. It's freezing.

A lot of people think it's got to be sunny here all the time, like we're in Florida or something. But we're not. I mean, it's not cold like other places are cold, but it snows. Tourists think they can wear pasties in the winter. Actually, when is a good time/place to wear pasties?

And now I'm sensitized to cold. The October after I moved here, I remember sitting on a restaurant patio under a heat lamp and marveling at how cold it was. When we looked at the thermometer, it read 62 degrees. I had officially become weak.

I'll never live somewhere with four seasons again. I don't like having to run from location to location with my nose frozen shut. I don't miss driving on ice or snow on my birthday anymore. The only real con to the weather here is a shortened scarf season. That's about where it ends. And no skiing. Other than that, I've learned to love the dry heat and almost passing out while sitting by the pool.

Monday, November 15, 2010

Birthdays

Today is my birthday. What do people in Vegas do on their birthdays? Other people fly to Vegas. On my birthday, I like to stay away from people.

When I was a little kid, I used to like to have parties. Mostly, I think I just liked presents. Then, at a certain point in my life, I liked to have parties to see how many people I could pack into a room as a barometer for my popularity.

A few birthdays ago, I officially decided to forgo parties altogether. That year, the guy I was dating at the time was supposed to arrange a party, and he waited until the day before Thanksgiving weekend to plan anything and everyone was out of town. Of course, at my party, when he was buying me a drink at the bar, I just grabbed some other guy and kissed him without my boyfriend knowing. Well, now he knows. That was the worst/best birthday I've ever had. Good to stop while you're behind/ahead.

Now, I avoid birthdays because it means I'm getting older. And I don't want to get older. I'm not afraid of death, so it's not a mortality thing, but I really like life, despite how much it sucks sometimes. And I have a lot I want to experience still. This might change when I hit thirty. I have a feeling, when I hit thirty, I might want presents again.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

People Las Vegans Hate

I'm starting a running list of people Las Vegan's hate. Here is the beginning in no particular order. Feel free to suggest additions:

1) Paris Hilton
2) The guy(s) who defaced the Welcome to Las Vegas sign
3) Lil Wayne
4) Sharon Angle
5) Candidates who try to de-thrown Oscar Goodman
6) The Hoff
7) Militant evangelists who picket on Fremont Street
8) East Coasters who go to the A.C. because it's closer
9) People who walk in front of our cars around The Strip
10) Cabdrivers who try to cheat us like we're tourists

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Why Even Bother: I Try to Start a Writers' Group

I really have no idea why I even bother. I mean, I've lived in lovely Las Vegas for five years now. (Good god, that's a long time.) I don't know what made me think I could find one or two literate, normal people to join the writers' group I wanted to start with fellow Nebraska alum, Chris Smith, who recently moved to this fair city.

Perhaps I've been reading too much Joyce lately, and I've tricked myself into thinking genius lurks around every corner. I'll tell you one place it doesn't lurk: between LVB and the mountains.

Ok, I probably sound pompous. But really, the only "writers" in this town think they're one bus ride with a Warner Bro's exec away from being the next Steve Spielberg. "I like dogs, and, um...Here's a link to my blog on which I've posted pictures of Rover opposite an acrostic poem beginning with 'rovely.'"

And, "Here's my post-apocalyptic masterpiece wherein women roam around topless for some reason; perhaps the garment district is where they're hoarding the viable Twinkies."

I don't know. I think I give up.

Monday, November 1, 2010

Dude, where are my sunglasses?

I was at job training the other night with my purse under my chair and a pair of old crappy sunglasses wrapped around the handle. I got up to move to the other side of the room, and I realized I no longer had my sunglasses. I looked on the floor around where I'd just been sitting, on my head, in my purse, to no avail.

Then, I looked up to see the elderly, retired teacher book it out the door--my sunglasses on her head!

And the next two nights at work, she was scheduled to work next to me, and she didn't show! Little does she know, those sunglasses were broken. The left lens pops out all the time! Ha!