People Are Weird: Vegas, Part 1

So last week Hot Guy and I went to Vegas. Hot Guy because he had to go to a convention and me because I'm still a spoiled only child  lucky enough to have parents willing to watch the kids for five days. I'm not even sure where to start.

Originally I was going to start with my anxiety about leaving the kids. The farthest/longest I had ever been from them previously was for a two day conference in Philadelphia. Which is less than 2 hours away by car. And Hot Guy was with them. This time involved writing out detailed plans for my mom, sort of like writing sub plans back when I was a teacher. Though I think I was better at it then. Anyway, then I had to fly across the country. But when I considered that the only way to completely alleviate the anxiety would be to skip a trip to Vegas with my husband, I decided to ignore it instead.

Which prevented me from writing anything at all.*

Though that's not the sole reason I didn't write in Vegas. I also hate typing on the iPad almost as much as I hate typing on my cell phone. And my hotel charged for the internet. They didn't even have wifi - or 3G - in the fucking lobby. So I didn't have high hopes even if I was willing to pay the ridiculous prices. Which I wasn't. Plus, I was mostly busy.**

Vegas has the best people watching ever. And I say this as a person who grew up outside of New York City and has spent quality time in Amsterdam. I was so tempted to take pictures of my fellow visitors, but I felt like it would be mean. Unlike staring and taking notes and making fun of them on my blog. Normally, I can't just sit somewhere by myself, unless I have something to read. In Vegas, though? I hardly read anything at all. Just watching some guy get arrested, or speculating on whether the scantily clad were actual hookers, was fascinating enough.

You know what was disappointingly un-fascinating, though? The street performers. One would think, being in such an entertainment mecca, that the street performers would at least be okay. But they were awful. Most of the people stationed on the Strip were just guys with costumes, who stood there and waited to be tipped by tourists taking their pictures. Like if you have a good Halloween costume of a famous character, you could go to the Strip and make money. And if you didn't have a costume, you could go to the Strip and make money by playing an instrument and/or singing poorly. Undoubtedly it's not enough money to live on, which just makes it even more depressing.

Of course, competition from hordes of drunk people might make it harder to be an inspired performer. And one thing you can definitely find on the Vegas Strip - even at 7am - is hordes of drunk people. Of all ages. With all kinds of outfits on. Doing all kinds of things. Yeah, no wonder the street performers are so dispirited.













*Until now that the trip is over and the anxiety is completely gone. 
**Or hungover. 

I Want a Hall Pass

Yes, I saw the poorly reviewed Hall Pass this weekend. I thought it was kind of cute, actually, even if Owen Wilson annoys me. I just want to shake him and say, "You're not hot enough to be that arrogant. Your brother's not like that and he's MUCH cuter." We laughed. Although I don't think it would be funny if you've never been married with kids.

Anyway, in the movie the wives, for a lot of senseless reasons that show what they all really need is honesty and possibly counseling, give their husbands a week off from marriage. A hall pass, a term they get from their psychiatrist friend played by Joy Behar. Is that woman everywhere now? Anyway, this is so the husbands can sleep around and get it out of their systems.

That is NOT why I want a hall pass. If I'm every without Hot Guy, my sex life will consist of a selection of vibrators. And gay porn. The guys are much better looking in gay porn.

What was I talking about?

Oh yeah, so in the movie Jenna Fischer takes the 3 kids off to Cape Cod for a week so Owen can pathetically try to get his groove at Applebees. I don't even think 23 year olds get laid at Applebees. I too would like my spouse to take my children away for a week so that I could get drunk with my friends, sleep late and watch all of my trashy reality shows with no snarky commentary from Hot Guy. I might also get some work done.

When I suggested this to Hot Guy, he said that I would miss them after a few days. No kidding. And then I'd have a few more days to miss them without being confronted by the reality of the screaming and the poop jokes. It would be awesome. The hall pass would also mean that Hot Guy couldn't call me to find out the kids' schedule or where they left their coats. I would have to keep track of myself only.

And then, you know, I'd realize that of course I wanted to be married and didn't miss the dating world and loved my spouse completely. Oh wait, that's what happens in the movie. Obviously, because it's billed as a comedy. What I'd realize is that I deserve a week off every year because it would make me a much better mother and wife. Maybe they'd even come back to hyper-clean and organized house.