Friday, June 14, 2002
One note: |4:37 PM| There is one thing to be enjoyed now that I am not in Vegas. Silence. I can sit in my room, turn everything off, and listen to my own heartbeat and breathing. I've slept in big cities, I've lived near highways, but no other place does sound permeate every single space like in Vegas. It's a foul stench in your ears, it's a deep rumbling on the floor, it gets into your clothes and it punches through the pillow over your head. The air you breathe vibrates and irritates your lungs. I can stand cigarette smoke, honking cars, and bad lounge acts singing "dancing queen" for the 200th time, but that sub-audible growl of thousands of slot machines gets into my fingernails.
Oh, also, everyone in my family had huge bags under their eyes by the end of the trip. Except me, despite the fact that everyone slept twice as much as I did. Either that aloe vera I've been using beneath my eyes is working, or my body has given up changing anything in reaction to my sleep patterns.
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Gambling Causes Zits |3:35 PM| I'm back from Vegas and back at work. Fresh from both victory and defeat at the hands of poker players, I am resting my laurels on the most comfortable chair to which I have access. Unfortunately, this chair is located right next my work phone and the trouble ticket list.
I really don't know exactly what to type, to express my Vegas experience. There were very polite people working everywhere I went. The atmosphere of tipping was universal, from gas stations to the guy who would whistle at taxicabs for you. I thought I should tip the people I passed in the street who didn't offer me advertisements for "escorts". I actually met an escort, she was being let into the elevators by security at the same time I was. She started talking to me on the long ride up and seemed like a pretty nice person. I felt bad for her, when I saw her exit the same elevators an hour later looking like she was in a foul mood. Fucking for money does that, I suppose.
On the poker tables, I did pretty damn well the first couple days, but my luck turned very sour on my last 2 days. I don't really believe in luck, but christ, the way the cards fell it felt like I was cursed.
It was highly pleasant in Vegas. It didn't go over a hundred degrees on any of the days I was outside, and the nights were just right. I realized that I missed being in the so-called desert, and that I could find myself living out in the middle of nowhere, Nevada, if given the chance.
TPL hasn't been updated since I left. I need to remedy that.
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One note: |4:37 PM| There is one thing to be enjoyed now that I am not in Vegas. Silence. I can sit in my room, turn everything off, and listen to my own heartbeat and breathing. I've slept in big cities, I've lived near highways, but no other place does sound permeate every single space like in Vegas. It's a foul stench in your ears, it's a deep rumbling on the floor, it gets into your clothes and it punches through the pillow over your head. The air you breathe vibrates and irritates your lungs. I can stand cigarette smoke, honking cars, and bad lounge acts singing "dancing queen" for the 200th time, but that sub-audible growl of thousands of slot machines gets into my fingernails.
Oh, also, everyone in my family had huge bags under their eyes by the end of the trip. Except me, despite the fact that everyone slept twice as much as I did. Either that aloe vera I've been using beneath my eyes is working, or my body has given up changing anything in reaction to my sleep patterns.
(0) comments
Gambling Causes Zits |3:35 PM| I'm back from Vegas and back at work. Fresh from both victory and defeat at the hands of poker players, I am resting my laurels on the most comfortable chair to which I have access. Unfortunately, this chair is located right next my work phone and the trouble ticket list.
I really don't know exactly what to type, to express my Vegas experience. There were very polite people working everywhere I went. The atmosphere of tipping was universal, from gas stations to the guy who would whistle at taxicabs for you. I thought I should tip the people I passed in the street who didn't offer me advertisements for "escorts". I actually met an escort, she was being let into the elevators by security at the same time I was. She started talking to me on the long ride up and seemed like a pretty nice person. I felt bad for her, when I saw her exit the same elevators an hour later looking like she was in a foul mood. Fucking for money does that, I suppose.
On the poker tables, I did pretty damn well the first couple days, but my luck turned very sour on my last 2 days. I don't really believe in luck, but christ, the way the cards fell it felt like I was cursed.
It was highly pleasant in Vegas. It didn't go over a hundred degrees on any of the days I was outside, and the nights were just right. I realized that I missed being in the so-called desert, and that I could find myself living out in the middle of nowhere, Nevada, if given the chance.
TPL hasn't been updated since I left. I need to remedy that.
(0) comments
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