I�m not looking forward to the phone call tomorrow but I still feel it�s for the best, tonight anyway. Things are rough between us right now it seems, which isn�t to say it�s even a 10th as rough as I�m normally used to in other relationships, but that it�s difficult for both of us with me being unemployed for several months. Even still, she�s a complete doll. I�m sure most of the ill feelings floating around are deeply matrixed in my own sense of self worthlessness at the moment. The dreams and hopes of the two important women in my life (D. and G-ma) are riding on my short term success. That�s a scary thought, especially considering I�m experiencing some blasted form of midlife crisis, not knowing what to do in the /slightest/.
My gut says to start small, slowly, cranking at a couple various things to make ends meet and build up to something better, but short term demands dictate that I must go to something better within� oh, the next two weeks.
Yes, that�s right, I�m unemployed, yet again. This time due to a, more or less, falling out of the partners of the business I was trying to get off the ground. Great potential assuming the two partners weren�t certifiable. One, a megalomaniac and the other an infatuated stalker at best. I suppose it was doomed to fail early on but I doggedly worked at it for far too long, digging myself deeper into my hole.
In fact, I�ve never been so bad off, aside from my blossoming love life. Is that how it typically goes? I can maintain financial success but not romantic, or vice versa? Annoying!
So, anyway, tonight - D taking a bow out of the evening, not feeling all that great, Paul, J, and I set off to some televised comedy thingy that I supposedly had VIP tickets for.
First lesson in televised events � Everyone is a VIP. Everyone gets red carpet treatment. Well, unless you�re the 6300 people that aren�t the first 700 who got in the place. Apparently, they carpet bomb the city with these �VIP� tickets to ensure they don�t have an empty seat. The TV camera�s don�t see the droves of bewildered and angsty people outside the oaken doors, and the amount of disgruntled people are so dwarfed by the pleased TV audience that it�s a win/win situation for them.
We defeated their vile machinations by having a lovely time regardless. Commenting on the hundreds of pounds of collagen in the grand Hard Rock casino area, not to mention the absolute metric fuckton of silicon. It was nice to have Paul and J out in public, socializing. A good precursor to new years, I personally think.
Oh and Pamela Anderson looked like fucking shit. Hard, old, and worn out shit.
But regardless, it was a delightful night. Making our rounds to the Double D and to the Frog (Freakin� Frog, place by Moose�s for those here in Vegas. 200+ beers, reasonable prices, completely chill place, my favorite bar � EVER) I was dropped back off at Hard Rock to walk around and consume my weight in water to sober up enough to drive. Not that I was especially drunk or what not but I�m paranoid, rightfully so, in my old age.
Anyway, what a different planet it is. The club scene.. the party scene� all the �beautiful� people at their lecherous best. How apathetic I am to it all these days. How I never thought that it could possibly be the case!
I drifted through the crowds feeling unseen and not particularly seeing anything myself. Spent my time drinking my water and watching the endless droves lose their paychecks to the greedy tables while anorexic women in little girl clothing pranced around like skeletal peacocks, instead of a bright plumage, they sported scorns and drunken leers. How could they conceive themselves even remotely attractive when everyone, to the last, seemed intolerably unhappy or at the very best, beastly dimwitted?
But that may be going too far to assume the majority wanted to appear attractive. It was entertaining to watch their abject horror when drunken men obviously starred at their overexposed breasts or midriffs. I always loved that mentality. No, really. Let�s dress in barely enough cloths to be legal, then act indignant when men that look nothing like Brad Pitt take notice! What a fucking remarkable idea!
People are wonderful creatures.
At any rate, a hot shower calls to me and I shall not keep it waiting.
Until next time�
-G