Once again... Vegas, baby... Vegas!!!

Ladies and gentlemen... the latest is this; the Vegas trip has been booked. I finally scored a flight tonight for $276. It gets me into Vegas around 10AM on Friday, and taking the red eye back on Sunday night for arrival in sunny Rochester, NY on Halloween morning around 11AM. Granted, I've got a 4 hour layover in Chicago around 5AM, but, hey... I only paid $276. I can live with that. So here's the package... night out in Vegas on Friday, going to see the one and only, the great Jimmy Buffett on Saturday, bet on football all day on Sunday, fly all night/morning, and back to sunny Rochester. Would you pay $276 for that? Yeah, me too.

It's a good night tonight. Had a long but productive day at work, the Yankees are up 17-3 on Tampa Bay, and the flight finally got booked without me having to give up my first born child (providing there ever is one). So right now, resting in the solace of the corner apartment, I am watching Rock Star INXS and enjoying a lovely Beefeater martini, heavy on the olives. The reason for the latter is that lately I've been having enormous problems sleeping. I don't know if it's the stress of returning to work after 3 weeks off, if it's the stress of my mother re-marrying, or if it's just the cold hard reality that my life hasn't panned out the way I thought it would when I was 12. Nah... I've slept since age 12 a couple of times. Lately, though, at least for the past 3 nights, I've been tossing and turning until like 3:30AM... not cool when I have to wake up at 7. If I was tossing and turning with someone else until 3:30AM... yeah, that's cool. However, when I'm sleeping solo and look over at the clock and get pissed because I'm going to be a mess in about 3 hours, it's not real cool. Anyway, having said/written that... let's hope that the martini, in all it's wisdom, is able to alleviate my little problem. It better... I have to meet Janell at 9AM for work tomorrow and I really don't want to be a zombie.

Honestly, though, it does feel good to be back at work. As bizarre as this may seem, I actually feel good about actually earning my money. Don't get me wrong... I'd love to be independently wealthy and just write and play golf all day, but until my parents die, that's not going to happen. No, by the way, I don't want my parents to die. I had to go through the pain of watching the parents of my two best friends pass away, and I know it's a nightmare.

Anyway, back to this whole "my maturing" thing. The scary thing is that I'm actually considering buying a house, which seems to me like a very grown-up thing to do. The thing that I'm struggling with is that I feel like I'm really committing to Rochester if I do that... and you know how I feel about that "C" word. Yeah, it'd be nice to be paying my own mortgage instead of someone else's, but then again, I'll have all the hassles of ownership... mowing the lawn, keeping it clean, cleaning the gutters & buying a birdhouse. Who am I kidding... either this martini is doing it's job or I'm having a moment of clarity. My money's on the former.

Anyway, since I feel like the martini is doing it's job and I'm writing complete rubbish, I think I'm going to call it quits for tonight... got a long day tomorrow. Also, I haven't been getting the slew of emails that I usually get... just to refresh, my email address is here, and feel free to write to me about anything from how cops suck to something you'd like my take on.

For now, goodnight, and I'll try to write something remotely interesting tomorrow. Until then, thank you Beefeater... you are to be commended on a job well done.

Until next time...

R