Westward Ho!

I'm off to the West again this weekend for about 10 days.

First stop: Las Vegas

Business. A technology conference. Ho-hum. BUT, it's 3 days & nights at the Mandalay Bay Hotel & Casino, all company paid....so while I pay my dues during the day and sit in on meetings where people get excited about things like server virtualization and cloud computing (yawn), I'll have my evenings and nights to do the Vegas thing. Not a bad deal at all. I'm not a big gambler, but I do play a bit of poker for fun, and no better place to do it than Vegas. And if I get a chance, I'm going to sneak away in the afternoon and hit the Mandalay Beach. I feel the need to lie there in a bikini (no matter what I look like) and have some guy name Pedro bring me a colorful overpriced drink. *ahhhh*

And then: San Diego

In an earlier post I wailed on Los Angeles and barely mentioned San Diego, which is quite refreshing vs. LaLa land. It deserves a decent nod. I actually find San Diego to be a friendly and charming city where one can actually relax. In fact, if it weren't for the plethora of homeless people downtown (seems to be a California standard), it would be extremely pleasant. But I must say, so far, the San Diego homeless I've bumped into have been fairly pleasant. It's such a lovely city, even the homeless can't help but be in a good mood....unlike the homeless crowd in San Francisco, who I found to be generally unpleasant and scary.

Catch you from the West Coast, dudes.

Ever Heard of Photoshop?

Yes, it is New York City.

Yes, it is a low-flying 747.

No, it's not 9-11 all over again.

But try to tell that to the people of NYC who panicked today when this was the sight out their windows.

In actuality, it's an Air Force One photo op -- the White House is updating their pictures. This morning, over lower Manhattan and the Hudson River.

No, really. They were.

They didn't tell anyone; they didn't warn the people of New York City; they didn't even bother to call the mayor and alert him. They just flew the planes in this morning.

People panicked; they left their offices; they evacuated buildings; they ran for their lives. Wouldn't you?

The mayor of New York City is completely pissed, and why shouldn't he be?

Again, a prime example of the AMATEURS we have in the White House.

Imagine the hue and cry if BUSH had done this. Oy.

Puddled

Work pressure, allergies, hormones from hell, a birthday with a horrible number attached to it, the insanity of 'the thing' that is otherwise going on in my life + a single glass of Chardonnay all culminated in a mini-meltdown Friday night. For five days I felt like something had been pushing down on my head. Finally, I imploded.

I yelled at my husband and said terrible things to him. He sat there and took it.

I fell over in a puddle of myself on the sofa and laid there in a fetal position for 30 minutes, not saying anything. I then gathered myself up, went upstairs, took a quick shower and poured myself into bed.

We didn't talk anymore that night. He came to bed and didn't rouse me. The next morning he got up before I did and left the room. But he came back later and walked over, hugged me and kissed me on the forehead without saying a word. I knew all was forgiven and washed away in the puddle of the evening prior.

That's the lovely thing about being married to your best friend. Sometimes words are not necessary.

And the rest of the weekend was blissful.

Finding My Z-Spot

At my house, we have been going through one of the most horrendous ordeals of our lives. Eighteen months of purgatory, culminating in 10 weeks of pure hell. We're in the middle of the pure hell part right now. It doesn't matter what it is; suffice it to say it's been brutal and completely unnecessary and a waste of time and resources. I never want to go through it again and should have never had to go through it this time, but I must've drawn the unlucky straw. Rather, my husband drew the unlucky straw, and I have stood here by his side to share in the lashings. No big heroine scene....I think that's just what wives are supposed to do.

Anyway, if we have any money (or sanity) left at the end of the pure hell portion of this misadventure, we need to get away and take a break from the world. Need to go somewhere to heal body, mind and spirit, because it's all been beaten to a pulp over the last two years. Need to go somewhere to do some healing, some recharging of the batteries, some clearing of the mind and heart.

I think only you can define whatever that Zen place is for yourself. I've been looking at vacation package ads that push serene beaches, trips to the mountains, desert paradises. All of that is great...for somebody....but I really need to dig deep to find what refreshes my own soul, hits my own Z-spot. Where do I go to in my mind for calm, for cool waters, for my nirvana?

I've been so stressed these last two years, I'm not sure I can trust myself to choose. It's hard to throw on the brakes against the insanity that's been going on to think clearly about scheduling a nurturing event. I may have to let the shock of things wear off for a while, get some perspective back and then find a little corner of the world to run away to.

REAL Makes a Comeback

FINALLY. Someone who is NOT a 19-year old half-naked, spray-tanned, boob-jobbed, lip plumped harlet who can't sing live to save her life.

Real is making a comeback.

NOW PLEASE -- No 'handlers', no makeovers, no personal trainer, no sassy new hairdo, no fashion police, no, no, no. Just leave her as she is. She's perfect.

Full of Empty

What is the municipal equivalent of empty calories? Los Angeles.

Famous street signs.....Sunset, Melrose, Beverly... I certainly recognized them but nothing about them there resonated with me. Storied places....Rodeo Drive, Bar Marmont, the Ivy...I was indeed there but felt like they weren't...at least not in the way I expected them. And traffic! Cars, cars everywhere and nary a place to park....and hordes of people, wandering about in the most soulless of cities. Such is Los Angeles.

I've been there before but it's been a while. And this is the first time I've really been hit with the vast emptiness of it. It's the most crowded empty place I've ever been. It is so full of everything and nothing simultaneously. Have you ever been thirsty and nothing you drank satiated your thirst? That's the feeling I get from L.A. -- plenty to drink in, but nothing to satiate.

I've almost never been in a place that I couldn't make some sort of emotional connection with, but Los Angeles proved to be one of them. It stirred nothing. I didn't like it; I didn't hate it; I almost had a feeling of indifference about it...it was so empty and valueless, I couldn't register emotion of any type for it. Empty calories indeed. I took it all in and got absolutely nothing out of it. It was utterly charmless.

I wasn't there very long but it was long enough to establish a feeling for it, if I were going to have one. And I just didn't. The connection button was stuck on 'off' for me.

We arrived Saturday noonish by car from San Diego (now THERE's a city with some charm), and we drove forever through endless cheesy neighborhoods full of strip shopping centers and fast food on our way to see the storied million dollar places. Ick! This is the dream? This is the glamourous life? To live on the right side of the Beverly Hills city limit sign in the middle of an ocean of junked up areas that surround it? No thanks. I'll take my zip code over 90210 any day.

No culture, no flavor, no charm whatsoever. Sort of like a real life movie set -- all veneer, no substance. And I really have no need to go back for a good while now. I got my fill of empty.