Fresh Air

You know that this past year, I've washed that Ariel costume 35 times, and we've only owned it for 3 months.


We made "Halloween" decorations and hung them on the balcony even though the rain instantly put the ruin on them.


We picnicked in the canyon and fell in streams and rivers trying to make sure we had an "experience".

We ran circles around each other and laughed to our hearts content.

Of all the things we did (which were plenty more than just this), what I'll remember the most from your past year was that you loved me -- fiercely, loyally, honestly. You loved me, and I loved you. And that's the truth we've got sweetheart!

Happy Birthday, my Princess.

I love you.

Coming To America

Geez. Just when I start to think I could possibly learn to put tethers around this crush, he decides to announce that he's coming to America again -- IN TWO WEEKS.

My first thought should be: that's nice, whatever.
My first thought is: Suh-wheat! (and then my second thought is that I actually will have a date for Valentine's Day! Yeah for single me.)

Then, he asked if he could meet my family. As in my mom, my kids, my whoever is special to me.

My first thought should be: Suh-wheat!
My first thought is: Is he serious about me? What are his intentions? Is this some sort of alternative universe where he's really trying desperately hard to reel me in by faking interest in my children? (and then my second thought is that I really want him to meet my kids but I'm also completely torn because if this isn't real then I don't want him meeting my children at all, but what is going on with my heart here .... reality? or? I haven't decided yet so no he can't meet my kids until I decide.)

Then, he told me he would be here from Saturday to Saturday and wanted to spend "real life" with me.

My first thought should be: This is going somewhere.
My first thought is: This might go somewhere and how do you feel about that Twisted, or Miss UnTwisted if you're Nasty? (and then my second thought is that I think I actually have lots of feelings that might be a little past the crush phase but they also lead to lots of questions so I just don't think about them right now until he's going to actually be in the room and we can hash through some of this.)

Then, he told me that I would probably be sick of him after a week.

I simply said, "Yeah, probably."

Everything's Better with an Accent

After 2 days of traveling, I arrived at work this morning for a completely packed day of back-to-back-to-back-to-back meetings from 8:30am all the way through 6:30pm. Nice. A grueling day in the office following a grueling day on the road. I was prepared.

Well, I was prepared for the day, but not the unexpected package on my chair.

Opening up the Amazon.com package, I found a great book (Ella Minnow Pea: A Novel in Letters by Mark Dunn) and the sweetest note:

Hey you - something new for you to read - let me know what you think :-)

My crush just grew to about the size of the American continent. Is he real?

(and LaY - his current person is of the female persuasion so it's not THAT hopeless, or is it?)

The Current Weather Climate, a commentary

Yes, the current weather climate is slush aka pseudo-snow to some people (yes that would be me). The really heavy mushy snow that makes it impossible to turn on your windshield wipers and make any impact. The kind of snow that weighs so much, it is extremely difficult to lift one scoop without tearing some serious shoulder muscle. On the other hand, I have absolutely adored the thick clouds and the cling to you feel of the grayness.


I might be just as fickle about the weather as I am about my crush, but I thought that you (my millionsofreaders) would at least like to see some pictures before it passes, which passing I continue to hope will come any day due to the impossibleness of the situation. Alas, my crushing continues and gets worse every day, it feels like anyway. I am taking an email hiatus today and will not respond to or be the creator of any contact with said person.


Feel free to post comments on holding an intervention from me. I may need to be rescued from myself. Without further adieu, I give you Brit #3:





Taken from a page in iiieee's book: Le sigh.

The Taxi: An Urban Myth Come True

FACT: I am too old to walk.
FACT: I am make enough money that I don't really have to give a crap about walking.
FACT: I wear stillettos and do not want to hike from end to end of the Strip.

FACT #3 is the most pressing of the issued.

So, we booked a hotel room at the other end of the Strip from our friends. No problem, we'll just take cabs back and forth. Well, the cab rides probably broke our bank. It was almost $15 a ride -- for less than a mile, I'm sure. Nuts!

The most memorable ride: we'll call her Stella. Stella had big teased hair. Stella had well defined make-up ala Tammy Faye. Stella was our cabbie.

Dear lovely riders:

She spent her first twenty years of cab driving in Vegas before her hiatus to Milwaukee including a short stint of cab driving. Now, she's back in Vegas and starting her next 20 years. Apparently, the cab world does not change. She is almost dating a cab driver that she kind of new before, but is just now getting to know again. Maybe she will start dating him, and maybe he's right for her. She's only a little older than he is. Maybe this will turn into a good thing. She's never been married; he has a couple of kids. They will get together and figure out a relationship from all of this.

So where are your friends? (which I jokingly replied were at a strip club.)

Oh so you all like to visit those joints? Well, Stella gets comped for delivering you right up front. $50 per boy head and $30 per girl head. Can you refer her? Can you call her if you need a ride? Can you take her business card and pass it along to your friends. Sure, Sure, Definitely, Sure.

Thanks for the ride; we'll call you soon!

Love,
Your favorite female groupies.

(It seemed like the longest cab ride I've ever been on, and it was less than a mile.)

Death by UTI

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/28819520/?GT1=43001

Seriously? Come on, honey. I guess some kinds of sex really can kill you.

PS

It doesn't help that my crush sent me an email this morning saying, 'Fancy a ride in a horse-drawn carriage.' IN FREAKING VIENNA (cuz he's traveling today). *Sigh* Smitten, I tell you.

A Tad Off Course

OK ... this post is a slight deviation from Vegas (yes, there's more). This post is to say that I have kind of a crush on someone that I most certainly, totally, definitely should NOT have a crush on. A someone who already has another someone -- no, they aren't married, *sigh* yet. And I have a crush on him. Kind of a big one.

He had me at hello -- except his hello was smacking his hands together and saying 'Right.'

And he sealed the deal by saying 'Hey why don't I get 4 tickets to Walking to with the Dinosaurs this weekend.' When I said 'Who else do you want to go with?' He replied, 'Well, I thought we'd take your kids.' Completely not freaking out or even looking slightly uncomfortable at the fact that I had three kids. This might not seem like a big deal, but as a single mom, it was a huge deal to me.

I have a pretty big crush. I expect it to wear off after awhile, but crushes are kind of nice sometimes. They make you feel special for a bit, and I think I had hit a point where I really needed special -- even for just a little bit.

I guess this does have to do with Vegas since I met him there. So, now ... on with the Vegas Showstoppers!!

Vegas and the Brits: A Q&A

Q: So, crazy Twisted, why did you go to Vegas on the spur of the moment?
A: To see hot Brits -- well, a bunch of my Euro friends on their way to Salt Lake.

Q: And?
A: And to see hot Euros on their way to Salt Lake. Seriously my peeps, I can go to Vegas anytime. Having hot eye-candy was just the catalyst.

Q: And?
A: And how can that be resisted?

Q: Good Point. So, crazy Twisted, how much fun did you have hanging out with the Euros?
A: Well, point in fact there were the hot Brits and the crazy Danes. And I had one amazing time.

Q: What was your favorite part?
A: XS (which NO, it's not sex spelled backwards! it's this insanely hot new club that just opened in vegas on new years eve that somehow people that weren't even from my country were able to get these amazing VIP red carpet treatment). How could it not be? Unfortunately, my audience will not get to hear many of the stories from that night due to management censorship. I was in a fierce black dress and stockings (see previous post) and I was a hottie-hotterson. I did kiss a Brit and I liked it. I may have kissed two. Who can remember these things. Now, on to other topics.

Q: Like? We, your fair readership aren't really caring about the other topics.
A: Like the Winning Strategies of BlackJack I promised in earlier posts. Here are my tips: 1) fake like you can't play; 2) ask the hot boys at the table for advice; 3) avoid ordering a red bull -- it will be your downfall to looney land -- and 4) always play at the $5 table and nothing higher. Oh yeah and 5) walk away with your winnings.

The New Year's Resolution. (and yes, this is related to vegas)

Forewarning: This article may be a little TMI.

There are many types of conversions. I'm sure half of you just thought about your religion; I just thought about currency (although that's not the topic of the day). Mostly because I spent the past week with foreign objects of my affection. *Sigh* I need to move -- BAD.

I made a New Year's Resolution this year to be more girly. I'm sure some of you find that laughable because I wear stilettos every day, but there are things that I just want to change and be more girly about -- like always having my nails done and not just slapping on a coat of paint so that my toes aren't sad. I got to the end of the year and realised that I hadn't had time to have one full-blown pedicure. Tragic, I tell you.

So, I very much JUMPED onto the girly wagon with both feet. I kick started the year with new hair (which I adore), a pedicure, a massage, cute clothes (well, this part of being girly isn't really new to me), and other things. Some of that jumping was excruciating, like deciding out of the freaking blue that I wanted a Brazilian. A Brazilian should not be a last minute decision that you make. This requires careful planning and reading of many Internet articles, which I didn't do until AFTER. It's a really unique experience though to sit there basically in the buff -- cuz those little panties are laughable and are out of the way most of the time anyway -- and having to smile and say nice things to someone when you'd like to be ripping their eyelashes out one at a time and giggling hysterically. (WARNING: Please prepare yourself much better than I did for that experience. I would have confessed my soul if that had been a torture chamber that actually wanted to know your secrets. Hmm, I think I did confess a little too much to this woman; hopefully, I tipped well enough. And YES, you thank these people with a tip!!)

But, Do you know something? It has made so much of a difference in my life that I could never have begun to imagine it when I made the goal -- and it's only 20 days into the year. If I keep this up, this might be a year of utter bliss!

Now, I'm sure you are all wondering how this relates to Vegas AT ALL. We all know that Vegas is the adult capital of the world, but no, I didn't turn porn star or anything that excitingly juicy. I walked into a store and suddenly my life has been changed. Two words: Victoria's Secret. Now, keep in mind, it's not like this was my first trip or anything. I buy bras from them every year religiously. Buying bras is one thing, but buying "outfits" is something very different. VS proved to me that there is a strange absolute power about standing around in stockings, thong, and bustier OR a skirt and matching bra OR panties and bras OR lacy teddy. Rhinestone encrusted bras, lacy concoctions, padded/wire/water; you name it, and we tried it on. Umm, I mean I tried it on. I won't out the other party -- well, too much ;)

I left that store with at least 10 "outfits" and only dropped $125! (yeah, semi-annual sale). And I paraded around in them for the remainder of the weekend and all this past week. Don't ask me for details on how all that layering works cuz it's tricky, but suffice it to say, wearing stockings in public makes a real woman out of you, even if no one else knows about them. It's slightly more daring if you tell one person your secret though. My passage to womanhood is near completion.

Next step: OCD cleanliness -- translation: getting a maid. I can't get into that just yet because it really has nothing to do with Vegas, and I haven't finished unpacking enough to start with that service. Stay tuned though ...

More Vegas adventures on the way.

(Just so you know and won't be afraid of how much I've actually changed, I'm wearing pigtails as I'm typing this.)

So Much for the Spoilers

If your a "comments" reader, you MIGHT -- just might -- think that Susie ruined all the fun stories, but oh no, it ain't so.

Yes, we road a gondola with an Italian (or pseudo-Italian, however you want to look at it) gondolier named Antonio who sang all three of us GIRLs romantic Italian songs and renditions of Elvis Presley Vegas Highlights. He wanted a huge tip and was just brassy enough to ask for it.

Yes, we got on a VIP list Saturday night using my mad skills, where we went to 4 Vegas hot spots from the hours of 11pm and 4am. (I am even going out on a limb here to admit that Susie and I went to the Playboy club, but Hef wasn't there to greet us so we were mostly safe. Surprisingly, it was insanely more calm than I would have imagined of the Playboy name and of Vegas. No nakedness everywhere. Or maybe they just put it away when the two Mo-Mos showed up.)

Yes, I was in a sordid cat fight (that I didn't know was going on in the first place) when I accidentally backed into this lady carrying a drink. I apologized (like the nice and loving person that I am) and asked if I could buy her a replacement, which she declined. About 5 seconds later, her boyfriend was in my face calling me something, but I chose to not hear it. I looked slightly confused, asked what he was talking about, and then prayed that if it came down to it, Jamie (one of our British friends) would be beefy enough to take him out. Oh it didn't come to actual blows, and the man even acted slightly offended and sheepish when I once again tried to give him money. Then, it was all over -- whew safe and sound and BACK ON THE DANCE FLOOR. Did I happen to mention the dancing.

I had forgotten how amazing it feels to dance -- everywhere we went, the music was phenomenal. It's the only thing to do.

Stay tuned for 'The FreeWheeling Ways of a BlackJack Shark".

Vegas: The Stories

Ok .. so I don't really have much content to post here most days. I know you think my life is so glamorous so I'll give you the run down of what it's been like for the past few years (possibly up to 6.5 years to be a little more exact). It would look like this:

• Got the kids up, dressed, and to school/nanny - only 25 minutes late today.
• Made a presentation for work. Thought I'd throw in a naked dude to make sure all the boys were watching, but decided I needed to keep my job more.
• Sat in a meeting.
• Sat in another meeting.
• Sat in another meeting.
• Took a phone call from someone who thought they could do a better job at my job than I could. Listened to all the complaints about how their ideas were the best. Listened to them rant about how I didn't listen because none of their ideas ever make it into any part of what we do, but they have the best ideas (hmm, wonder why).
• Sat in another meeting.
• Answered email (not the fun friend kind)
• Posted REALLYQUICKLY on Facebook.
• Answered email (again, not the fun kind)
• Sat in a meeting.
• Answered email (again, you get it)
• Got home, bathed children, fed them, wrestled with them to get into bed until 11pm.
• Fell asleep.

So, my friend said 'Vegas, baby?' And I said, 'No, I'm too practical these days. Wait did I just say no, then YES! YES! YES!' And off I went.

I had a FRICKIN' ball. I forgot that I was so much fun; so delightful; so jubilant. I forgot that I had a way of bumping into exciting things. I forgot that life could hold (SHOCKER COMING) such absolute delight.

Vegas consisted of: 2 hours sleep from 11am Saturday to 8pm Monday; naked girls, but not the stripper kind that I already know you are thinking about; a couple of shows called O, but not the kind that you are thinking of; water, water, water, and more water; 65 degree weather and no coats; lingerie, but not for all the purposes that you might assume; VIP lists, when I thought I was past my prime; cranberry juice, tasty!; red bulls for the first time in almost 7 years; expensive food, but cheap nights (shocking); shopping; and a flurry of kisses.

That's all I'll say right now. Maybe I'll give you more of the fun, hilariously fantastic stories in the next little while so that I have something more to say than: meeting, email, meeting, meeting, meeting, email.