gettin lucky
Lucki-er, that is. The DH fell (we are too YOUNG for #&%*ing falling down, but whatever) and damn near hurt himself really badly. He has skateboarder-face, although nothing that looks like it'll scar, but is in a lot of pain in his ribcage. He doesn't imbibe as much as me, so is having to rely on ibuprofen for pain relief. I wish he had some darvo-whatsit. He really feels terrible and there's nothing I can do to help except tend the scraped bits with neosporin and put some cover-up on the bruises, and he has some doozies of the latter. He won't try scotch, heh heh. I have GOT to get that boy back in condition. If only he'd stop resisting...
We're in LV with the 'rents, who are completely overwhelmed by the size of things and how far it is to walk anywhere. They're basically bible-belt smalltown folks, and the whole idea of throwing caution to the wind is basically from another planet to them. Last I heard, they'd eaten every meal at Denny's... and are enjoying the nickel slots. And no cocktails. Woohoo. I wish my dad would go to the traditional Bally's Jubilee show with the sparkly dancers and all that stuff, but mom is weird about that. It's just boobs, y'know? Museums are full of 'em. I don't know what the big deal is. He'd enjoy going to an old-school kind of show like that. They're going to "Mamma Mia" tonight... I love Vegas. It's so fun. My real life is so dratted responsible and bleah, and I just love expensive window-shopping and bright lights and slot machines, if only for a little while.
The DH has gone to the hottub to see if it'll help. Maybe I'll join him. Always funny to wear a swimsuit and jewelry, hahahaha! The swimsuit I brought has more "structure" in it than the Brooklyn Bridge. It puts the girls back up where they by-god belong. I can't breathe well in it, but sacrifices must be made.
So I talked to the kid, and he's gotten some kind of gastro virus, bleah. Poor thing. I hope he's better. He called late last night for a dose of soft-spoken momma on the phone. I cooed obligingly, and he seemed to feel better.
The longterm project is going like wow...l'm down a size already. Woot.
We're in LV with the 'rents, who are completely overwhelmed by the size of things and how far it is to walk anywhere. They're basically bible-belt smalltown folks, and the whole idea of throwing caution to the wind is basically from another planet to them. Last I heard, they'd eaten every meal at Denny's... and are enjoying the nickel slots. And no cocktails. Woohoo. I wish my dad would go to the traditional Bally's Jubilee show with the sparkly dancers and all that stuff, but mom is weird about that. It's just boobs, y'know? Museums are full of 'em. I don't know what the big deal is. He'd enjoy going to an old-school kind of show like that. They're going to "Mamma Mia" tonight... I love Vegas. It's so fun. My real life is so dratted responsible and bleah, and I just love expensive window-shopping and bright lights and slot machines, if only for a little while.
The DH has gone to the hottub to see if it'll help. Maybe I'll join him. Always funny to wear a swimsuit and jewelry, hahahaha! The swimsuit I brought has more "structure" in it than the Brooklyn Bridge. It puts the girls back up where they by-god belong. I can't breathe well in it, but sacrifices must be made.
So I talked to the kid, and he's gotten some kind of gastro virus, bleah. Poor thing. I hope he's better. He called late last night for a dose of soft-spoken momma on the phone. I cooed obligingly, and he seemed to feel better.
The longterm project is going like wow...l'm down a size already. Woot.
