Somedays it seems like too long. Somedays, I realize how fast it will be here. And how glad I am that its on its way.
Four days of silliness, complete with hordes of people that 5 years ago I wouldn't have even guessed that I'd know, much less make the second weekend of December sacred. Especially given that it always falls in rodeo week in Las Vegas.
But as much as I love my new job, its time for a small break. And while we're making the best of this weird living apart situation, its not so much fun, and it will be nice to be together with friends. And life, in general has its structure - it will be good to have a long weekend that is specifically structured to be . . . well, as unstructured, or structured, as you wish it to be.
It's not the poker. It will be fun, and (excepting the tourney) I usually make money while I'm down there, but we've got a casino here, games with friends, and Bayne's got me hooked up with a local tourney.
It's not the food. I live in the Bay Area, with as much food variety and great restaurants as you can imagine, if your wallet can take it.
It's not the spas or the hotels . . . California is full of great spas and getaways.
It's the motley crew of people I can't wait to see. I think we're bringing most of our California crew down, including April and Bayne and Betty, if we talk nice to her. But even though I can see these guys whenever I want, its still fun to hang with them in Vegas.
The Canadians are coming. Bunches of them. But high on my list of priority hugs include Kat (hugs and smooches . . . no pictures allowed) and Bam Bam and Pebs. In fact, I need Bam Bam so bad the other day I emailed him, and we traded a few emails . . . but its a poor substitute for a real, honest to goodness, gut wrenching hug. I'm thinking arms and legs wrapped around this guy, if he can bear my weight. Kisses too. Only if Pebs approves, of course. Although it's Vegas - try and stop me, girlfriend.
I'm hoping to trade hugs (massages, hair drapes, etc.) with CK, lay some hand on Bad Blood's guns, give Otis three hugs - one for his recent loss, one for his gain (Dos) and one just because he's my original blogger crush. Maybe an extra, just to mark him for the other girls who try to move in on my hug action.
I need a big bear hug from Falstaff, and maybe a kiss or two (Suzy, too, if she's around). But I know if I kiss Falstaff, then Dr. Chako will be all jealous - and have to kiss Falstaff too. Can't wait to see the reigning Queen, the Princess herself, and Gracie and Pablo and Stb and F-Train. Waffles. Oh Captain, even without his better half. And what's Vegas without Al? Or Texas April, who's being a dear and organizing this mess.
Don't worry boys, I'm getting to you. Yeah, you know who you are.
Poker Peaker. It's like that scene in the Lion King where the one hyena says "Mufasa!" and the other one shivers and says breathlessly "Say it again . . . " and the first one says "Mufasa!" sending the other one into fits of shivers. Yeah, pretty much like that. Besides, I lost my Steel Panther virginity with him . . . (ok, maybe there were other people there too). Vegas isn't Vegas now without him. I'm telling you Otis, he's totally gaining ground.
And Drizz. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. Well, not for the purple humiliation you'll make me live through, but after a few years, I guess fair is fair. I want you to know I'm going all the way for this. Really. If I'm going to do purple, I'm going to do it right. But I expect you to make it worth my while. I think a sufficient number of hugs and other affections will prime me appropriately for our little Sunday rendezvous.
I know this is only a smattering of people I will see and love while I'm there.
So Bellagio, here I come. Geisha bar, see you Thursday night. Friday night, I expect some mixed games, and then me and my best hair-metal band loving friends are going to pounce on the Steel Panther show in all of its Spandex glory. Saturday, I'll drag my butt out of bed and work hard to try to take a place at the final table, and whether I win or lose, I'll spend Saturday evening in silliness with whichever of you have the stamina to hang with me. I can't promise how early I can drag my tush out of bed on Sunday, but I'll be in the sports bar to pay up. My husband might be off riding bikes with Kat, but I'm sure one or more of you will entertain me.
24 days, my friends . . . 24 days.