Miss America and the Ugly Duckling

Miss America and the Ugly Duckling

So John and I are heading to Vegas this weekend to celebrate his sister’s 29th birthday. We (along with his college bud, Brian) are meeting Susan and her posse out there. Interestingly, Brian asked me last weekend how I get along with Susan. Funny he should bring it up, considering she and I are pretty much opposites. In other words, I’m already on the grandma path but next to her? I’m freakin’ knocking on death’s door. Aside from being traffic-stopping gorgeous, Susan’s wild, crazy, and fearless. She’s just one of those people… you know, she tries everything and just has a good time everywhere she goes. On top of that, she has a Jennifer Garner figure PLUS she can drink any person– guy or gal– under the table. Seriously, she can, and with that kind of drinking stamina, you really wonder how she doesn’t have a huge-ass pot belly. Go figure. Guess she’s just tough, and it’s not just the multiple tattoos (including a huge one on the top of her foot), tongue ring (since removed), 330-mile Raleigh-DC AIDSRide AND high-level job that prove it.

Of course, I always support my fellow strong women. You got to give it up for people who balance work and play. It’s an art, for sure. Maybe I’ll learn something this weekend from the master.

In other news, I’m still stuck waiting. Waiting for EVERYTHING– my ocean cargo (which is now two weeks late), my wedding ring (still in repair), my new hair color and cut (the first opening for a hair model is AFTER Vegas–I know, I’m a cheap bastard), and a goddamn job (ANY job!). So what does this mean? Well it’s certainly not the end of the world, but I don’t have all my stuff for Vegas. Like my Pamela-approved outfits, my contact lenses, my magic poison… I’m still sort of living on a diet– it’s like I’m camping or something. Not a huge deal, but just kinda sucks. I don’t exactly want to be the butt-ugly duckling sitting next to Miss America while every dude in the house lines up to buy her free food and drinks, you know? On my own, sweats and sneakers are fine. But in public and next to Susan? I gotta do my homework… for me, for John, for the greater good! Ha, ha. Think I’m exaggerating? I’m totally not.

A few months ago, John was in LA helping Susan move in. They went to some swanky bar. The bartender/owner was instantly smitten with her, so what happened? Susan and the rest of the crew (including John and his former coworker) got tons of food, not to mention kickass, fancy cocktails… for free. Then, at some point during the evening, John went outside. When he tried to get back in, there was this huge line. He called Susan at the bar. She talked to the owner, he talked to the bouncer, and voila! John was in. And the bouncer was instructed to like recognize John and everyone else in the party, so they’d bump right up to the front of the line. Star treatment, I tell you. Just like Entourage.

I suppose if I’m really worried about Vegas, I could go out and buy stuff to feel better prepared. I’m not that uptight about it. My cheapie self still wins in the end. After all, I don’t need anything– it’s all in my shipment. In conclusion, I’m going to Vegas, and I’m gonna try my best to have fun. John will be there, and I’ll have Cirque to look forward to. Plus, my travel book says there are lots of local guides with coupons galore! That will keep me busy while everyone else is drinking and gambling… kidding!

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