Las Vegas, home of the 10Am gin and tonics and old folks tapping those blinking blissful buttons into the next morning. Nickel after nickel they click their retirement away one hopeful sip at a time. Hookers and heat stroke make up this dirty desert pop-up town that looks very much like a one sided Hollywood movie set. The hot wind burns my eyes the second I step outside the hotel sliding doors and I'm pissed I didn't bring my expensive eye drops. I guess I'm too vein to break the line of my skinny jeans with one extra thing in my pocket. God I'm sick of me sometimes! My contacts are singed and sizzling with the dry heat and immediately I begin to sweat bullets. I wish I had the money to sit my fat ass down right now at the nearest Figure Skating themed slot machine, smooth out a crumpled twenty, and kiss it goodbye forever, anything to not have to venture outside. But I can't bring myself to set what little money I have on fire at the moment. Unemployment doesn't taste good in my mouth especially here where the dice are always rolling and pent up soccer moms and homeschool house wives give themselves license to dress like cheap whores with tranny shoes. These ladies make that skin tight choice that NOBODY in this world needs to see. These are the rural ladies of 'Merica feeling sassy enough to strut their stuff in dresses they wouldn't be caught dead in back in their hometown of ol' Altoona Wisconsin.
Four AM waffles at the Tuscany diner are a dream but the daytime boredom makes me wanna climb the walls of this hotel because it's too damned hot to venture out mid day for any reason whatsoever. Night time is the only time of day here and midnight might as well be noon. Its a city of gambling addicted vampires and when you wake up from your cat-nap at ten in the evening you know its going to be a long night. The scorching sun blisters my pampered little pooch's paws on the side walk during our daily walks and she skips around like an excited tap dancer on a red hot plate. Poor little Harley is hating her life in the desert because she's either outside wheezing like she has full blown Mesothelioma and struggling for every breath, or she's stuck in the hotel room like Ann Frank all day. I've been known to pull one over on the housekeeping ladies as to avoid an astronomical pet "deposit". Occasionally mama slips through the cracks. She might as well be a fried egg on the hot asphalt that turns her perfectly groomed white paws into black hairy Gaga boots. The melting pavement is literally dying my dog into a different breed all together from the ground up. Black leg warmers are not part of this equation if you know what I mean? Let's just say a King Charles Cavalier Spaniel isn't known for it's desert temperament but more for lounging around like a furry accessory pillow on a 7,000 dollar Donna Karen denim couch on HGTV. I guess the apple doesn't fall far for my furry child since my idea of roughing it is finding out the Candlewood Marriott Suites doesn't have a pool.
I've watched my favorite people on earth stuff twenty after twenty into Gold Fish machines with little to no pay out other than the temporary rush of hope that comes from a dazzling spin with blinking lights. My favorite quote of the entire trip was a hustler who was promoting a free limousine ride to some obscure gentleman's club off the strip. "Warm titties in yo' face guys....free limo and warm titties in yo' face?!" My country Tennessee roots and fifteen years experience in Manhattan couldn't have prepared me for what lay in store on this cross country adventure to Vegas. The biggest and only obstacle has been filling this endless down time. Three days in Las Vegas.....Hell yes! Three weeks? Kill Me! My year has gotten away from me alltogether and seems to be slipping through my fingertips like a fine powdery sand. My personal control issues always allow me some form of a French retreat and a way out of almost any scenario but not this time. Have I given up or just given in to forces stronger than me leading me where I need to be?
This year an unavoidable foot surgery parlayed itself into forcing me to leave my show in Tennessee, something I've never done in my entire career. This was a true first for me. That break for surgery turned into a mandatory vacation/recovery period and from there into a three week trip to New York City to kill time. New York accidentaly morphed into four days in Amsterdam my favorite city in the entire world. The Amsterdam daze was followed by a huge wedding in Scotland and both were capped off just brilliantly with a horrible long distance breakup that dragged on and on with some seriously regretful aftershocks to follow. Sometimes the universe strips you of everything in one devastating blow for your own good even if you can't see it at the time like me. Being blindsided is an understatement in regards to my smoldering summer's emotional wreckage. But the grace in which we deal with the aftermath of such epic breakups depends on how tempered our reactions are to them. Needless to say mine were short, ineffective, and in fact paralyzing and did more damage than good. I couldn't find a graceful perspective if I had a GPS!
It seems Love is the most terrifying word in my vocabulary because it means that you allow the worst, most flawed parts of yourself to be transparent and hopefully accepted......or not. Dating and auditioning run a shockingly close parallel to one another and when I think about it I smile and a little nervous laugh pops out. After three months it's out there, all of you...the good, the bad, the frustrated, the elated, the bored. No matter how badly you wish you could get that first fart back that slipped out next to your significant other you can't! Just let it go friend....literally. If you think the romance and mystery is over in that exact moment get over it because it's quite the opposite. You have just arrived at the starting point of honesty, a beautiful place to be. A perfectly fucked up, confusingly clean slate levels the playing field for you both. To forgive others I have to first forgive myself for my raucous twenties that are still a bit of a blur. And to be able to have a full cup to offer someone else I must cut loose all the baggage I'm dragging through my adulthood for no good reason. The guilt can't follow me forever right? Because it hangs and lingers in the air like a smoke ring floating over the black jack table. Hit me.
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