Vegas Recap

October 5, 2008

My poor… forgotten… blog. I know, it has been forever. 

Last weekend was the Vegas extravaganza. The trip did not start off as planned. Our flight was canceled so we spent the next two hours lugging my bagzilla from terminal to terminal in a desperate search for a replacement flight. I have never been the person in the ticket purchasing line and hope to never be again. It was eye opening how many people are stuck making day of arrangements. Even more eye opening was the high percentage of people who, even though they are likely in a time crunch, also find time to argue with the booking agent about the bag check fees. Since we were on a tour de terminal that day, I can confirm that this is a constant phenomenon. I can also assure you that there is no need to argue about the fees. I saw many a manager called to the front that day. Not one budged.

Three hours later when the layer of sweat was finally dry, we boarded the plane. After an uneventful trip, minus a brief moment of extreme motion sickness as we approached McCarren International in a bumpy descent, we had arrived. 

We rushed to the hotel and met my brother and his beautiful girlfriend at the Palms Place pool for some cabana time. Cabana time quickly turned into bucket ‘o beer time. 

One too many bucket ‘o beers caused a member of our group to miss Tao that night. Another member of the group potentially should have stayed in and slept it off. The weekend was off to a good start. 

Surprisingly we were up bright and early the next day. We brunched, we explored the strip and we even spent some time admiring the lanterns at Wynn. 

At night, our balcony served as a perfect photo shoot locale. That is my brother in the white. For those that know me, you may agree that he looks more like his girlfriend than me. No, they are not related. 

Then we were off to dinner and Moon/Playboy Club. Hmmm…looking at the pic below I am realizing that I may look a little bit like Nick. Kind of weird.

Vegas was H-O-TT (pronounced: H, O, double T) that weekend so we logged countless hours by the Palms pool. I will never forget the miserable look on my brother’s face as he sprayed aerosoled SPF 30 on himself in vain. I couldn’t help but to laugh…my *ss off. He did redeem himself however, when he bought two plastic bikini girl cup drinks and rocked them in the pool. I was proud.

Between all the adventures we snuck in some time for paid entertainment, of the classy kind. We saw the Mac King Comedy Show one day and it easily trumped our tempered expectations. It was entertaining, funny and incorporated a fake bear (you have to see it to understand). We also saw the O Cirque du Soleil show at the Bellagio. Described in one word: AMAZING. It is expensive, but well worth it. 

For our last night we met up with LA friends at Tryst nightclub. I have pictures from that night, but most people probably wouldn’t approve the postings so they will remain in the secret vault. You know what they say, “what happens in Vegas…” It was the perfect ending to a fantastic trip.

I love seeing my family no matter where we are, but there is something to be said about meeting in Vegas!

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Posted by marcypoz7

CT Roots

August 19, 2008

After a cancelled flight, a long wait time in the airport and a connection in Dallas, I was thrilled to make it back to Connecticut for a visit. So thrilled that I didn’t mind that my luggage failed to make it to the final destination with me.  

A lot has changed in the past couple years. My east coast friends are married and the baby boom has begun. No longer are we sneaking off to UConn, pretending that we are freshman in college. Instead, we are sitting around a living room reading passages from What to Expect When You Are Expecting. As an aside – if you have intentions of reproducing, I recommend that you not read this book. I received an education that night that is sure to keep me sterile for quite some time. Why would we read such a thing? My friend (hi Jules!) just had a beautiful baby boy and her coffee table reading materials called out to us. 

Beyond QT with friends, the typical family reunion activities ensued. One can never tire of binge eating, movies, Wii tournaments, shopping and the the Mohegan Sun. I also spent a great deal of time cheating on Indy with this little white creature. 

All in all, going back to New England was like a breath of fresh air (literally) filled with trees, barns, flowers and white picket fences. 

The trip went by way to fast. Now I am left wondering how I will ever be able to run without a daily Dunkin. 

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Posted by marcypoz7

Why is my Dog Peeing on the Floor?

July 30, 2008

When Nick saw me taking pictures tonight, he demanded that I start this post by stating that our dog, is in fact, potty trained. Ok, got that over with, now I can start:

I am seriously questioning whether Indy is potty trained. Sometimes (and by sometimes I mean sporadically since we got our little bundle of joy 2 1/2 years ago) he has taken to peeing on the floor. But he doesn’t just pee like a normal dog. Your every day Fido has the courtesy and decency to pee in one neat, easy to clean puddle. Our dog walks all through the living room, spreading it around like a sprinkler watering a parched lawn on the fourth of July. Graphic and gross, I know, but I think you have to see it to believe it:

  

Now I love this dog more than life itself, but when you layer the pee on top of the inch of dog hair, our glamorous high rise apartment becomes something out of a COPS episode – you know, when the cops bust into the crack den and find the passed out parents and illiterate kids living in squalor.

Since this isn’t the dog’s normal MO, I am not sure what to do. Should I yell and scream? Should I bring him to an animal communicator to see if he has repressed memories from puppyhood that are surfacing? Some tell me (hi Mom) that I should “spank his little *ss” and he will get the message. I just can’t do it. Anyone have a better solution? 

The fact is, Indy knows that he has done something wrong. One look at his guilty little face and my heart melts. How could it not?

The conclusion I have to come to is that our dog has trained us. He knows that he has us wrapped around his white tipped little paw. I hold out hope that some day I will become the Alpha in his eyes, but if that doesn’t happen I am going to make damn sure that our next place has a doggie door.

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Posted by marcypoz7

The Man Cave

July 7, 2008

As you read this post, there are couples all over the world fighting a serious battle. It does not involve weaponry or blood, but it does involve cunning and determination. It is a battle of domestication. This clash is over the placement of previously owned possessions in a shared home. 

I remember when Nick and I made the big decision to move in together. I envisioned romantic nights at the new abode – making dinner, popping a bottle of wine and curling up on the couch to watch  a movie. What I never imagined was the subtle power struggle that would ensue. A game of tug-of-war, if you will, which resulted in many sentimental goodbyes for Nick. The stained leather couch – donated. The obscene speaker system – relegated to the closet. The tattered lamps – replaced. 

Women nest. Men do not. Women want to primp their home, while men want to pimp theirs. This is a fact. It is for this reason that I look forward to the day when Nick and I have a home large enough to accommodate a full scale man cave. A day when he will happily retreat with his man friends to a den of Coors Light, PlayStation, poker and fantasy football.

I took a little audit of our apartment tonight and realized that his future man cave is well underway. Several items did survive the domestic battle five years ago and several have been added as gifts throughout the years. 

We have the Trans Am, a perfect accent to the crystal vase. Snoop is nestled on the shelf below.

 I also came across our good friend Michael Jackson. I introduced him to Indy, but the meeting did not go well (clearly the dog thinks he was guilty as charged). 

We have sports paraphernalia up the wazoo.

And electronics galore. Although I am savvy enough to know that these products will be completely worthless in the eyes of any testosterone driven male when the next-gen comes out. 

But nothing, and I mean nothing, will be more meaningful than the moment when our loyal Indian Chief friend can stop standing guard on our patio and instead guard the man cave beer cooler.  

Yes folks, I look forward to the day when we can build Nick the most enviable man cave in all the land. Until that day, I will sprawl out on the new leather couch, watch TLC on the big TV, sneer at Snoop Dogg and hope to God that Indy doesn’t confuse the Indian Chief with an outdoor fire hydrant.

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Posted by marcypoz7