Sign what? Where?

The Smothers Brothers were great! In case you were wondering.

So I did take my albums to get them signed and I did everything (well, almost everything) in my power to get them signed. The Northern Quest Casino apparently does not do a meet and greet after shows for the celebrities to talk to fans and autograph things. Much to my dismay. This is why I prefer the Coeur d'Alene Casino. Take note, Northern Quest, lest you lose my business.

I'm not going to go into the details here (but they aren't nearly as sordid as you are probably hoping. Or are they?), let's just say that my quest took me to the Poker Room. In case you ever go to this casino, please to be looking at their wall o'fame of promo pictures with their headliners. All the industry's biggest: Air Supply, Journey, Foreigner, etc. And of course, The Gambler himself was there. Pre-scary plastic surgery Kenny Rogers was beaming down on us.

At this point my true celebrity whore-dom surfaced. I told Northern Quest workers that my albums were my mother's and they were all that I was left, and that it would be a fitting memorial to have them autographed. Which is not completely a lie. One of the albums was my mother's, but I took it when I moved out of the house. And wouldn't we all like an album signed by Tommy and Dick Smothers in our memory?

My sob story aside, the Brothers had apparently already left. I got nothing. Except the satisfaction that I am shameless.

In an unrelated note, my presence is no longer welcome at this casino. At least, according to my sister.

FYI ladies: if you have some banana hair clips lying around your house, the good news is that these babies are back in fashion. I saw plenty of them at the casino, typically on women who were also wearing fanny packs. It was like a living re-creation of a top fashion magazine. Oh, and we also saw a woman in a leopard print mini skirt. She has at least in her sixties. It gets better: this sexy lady was all gimped out with a walker. Whoo!

Updates

Ok, so I haven’t posted in quite a bit and I guess it’s time to get caught up.

I’m back in Pullman now and I haven’t posted because the last two weeks have been less than fun. My little dog died unexpectedly a few weeks ago. She was severely injured while we were up in the mountains, she wouldn’t ever be able to walk again, and the vet said she would always be in horrible pain. It was the worst choice I’ve ever had to make, and I hope I never have to do it again.

As much as I teased my dog (for staring at me ALL the time, for throwing up when she got anxious or happy or whatever, for acting inappropriately toward my cat, etc.), she was a great dog. She loved people, and would get so excited when friends or family came over. I have hundreds of pictures of her swimming, since that was her favorite activity. If I went to the river or to the lake, she always got to go. She was the most obedient dog I’ve ever seen, and I rarely used her leash (except in Pullman, since I once got a ticket for having her off of the leash). And she was completely devoted to me (and since I’m one of the most self-centered people I know, you can’t top complete devotion in my book. Take a lesson, everyone.).

I packed up all of her things last week and I really do miss her. I am shocked by how much I miss her. You really don’t realize how much a part of your life a dog is until you lose one. It’s sad, I’m still sad, and that’s all I’m going to say on that.

When I returned home to Pullman after being gone a month, I was also greeted with the news that my cat had taken off. Her cat-sitter hadn’t seen her in over two weeks. The good (?) news is that she returned earlier this week, so the litter box stays, I guess. Apparently she gets all huffy when I take off for the summer. Picky, picky, picky.

She’ll be less than pleased next week when I’m house-sitting and I leave her again. But at least I’ll be going home once a day. My neighbor, whom I share a duplex with, decided that in the 100+ degree weather, watering the lawn was silly, so I also returned to the beautiful amber tones of what used to be my yard. I’m slowing watering it back to life, so I’ll have to go over there every evening to turn on the sprinkler.

Since I’ve been home, I’ve been studying some more and that’s about it. Oh, and cleaning out my house. As much as I love my dad, whenever I return from his extremely cluttered house, it inspires me to get rid of a TON of stuff. Which I have done. So that’s been fun. What a nice “What I Did Over Summer Vacation” essay this is. My life is crazy exciting.

Speaking of exciting, what are the odds that someone from my work would have been in Vegas when I was? And viewed me standing in line for Thunder From Down Under? And reported it to all my co-workers before I returned?

In my life, pretty damn good.

On the bright side, tomorrow I’m going to go see the Smothers Brothers. That’s right; they’re not dead (yet) and they’re performing at the Northern Quest Casino. Front row, baby, and I’m taking my albums for them to sign. My coolness factor is through the roof, yes? Anyone jealous? No?

Word of the day: Pronunciation

Did anyone see Stephen Colbert's appearance on last night's Conan? Hy-ster-i-cal. His Baptist-on-crack dancing interpretation of "The King of Glory" will forever bring a smile to my face.

And as enjoyable as it was to see Stephen jumping around the stage and throwing his arms up like a retarded showgirl, the best part was when Conan (after announcing he was a huge fan) mispronounced Stephen's show. He, of course, added a T to Repor-t. Stephen's slow turn to Conan with a fake smile plastered on his face and widened eyes was priceless.

Grab the candelabra

So I went shopping for some new records today, and I think I found the gayest one ever. And I do mean that literally.

Liberace Does Christmas.

I didn't buy it, but I know at least one person who would appreciate having this in his collection.

Rambling is fun for everyone

Looking over some recent posts and this website address and the picture for this site, I've noticed a theme. The theme, coincidentally, matches the theme of my office. And, more and more per every trip to Vegas, the theme of my home.

Uh, apparently I have a fascination with Elvis.

Which made me think that perhaps I should not share this story, lest I be labeled "obsessed." But then I thought that that line was crossed a long time ago.

A long, long time ago.

Now as I reread this, it occurs to me that I'm setting this story up to be much more interesting than it is. But tell it I will, because I'd hate to start something and then not stop. I don't do anything half-assed. Except for cooking. I bake from boxes. Oh, and cleaning my windows. I do that half-assed.

How this post got turned into you all judging my habits, I'll never know.

I was just going to say that I bought a new license plate frame today, and it is King-themed. A lot of build-up for pretty much nothing, right?

Insert obvious jokes about bedroom behavior here.

Set my soul on fire

Ah, Vegas. I love you so much.

Why do vacations (a) have to end and (b) have to cost money? But regardless, vacations are still God's gift to everyone. I had the greatest time ever, for many reasons. Let's list them, shall we?

1. I hugged one Elvis Tribute Artist.

2. I saw five great shows, including Pearl Jam. Man, do they ever put on a great show. Go see them. Worth every penny.

3. Every show I saw had a bit of Elvis in it. Some were obvious (clearly the "Legends in Concert" tribute show and "All Shook Up" at Elvis-a-Rama would have this), some were semi-obvious (the X-treme Magic Show with Dirk featured "A Little Less Conversation" during one of the illusions) and the other two were a stretch. We did indeed go to "Thunder From Down Under," and let's just say that I will never be able to listen to "G.I. Blues" the same way again. And, the best Elvis tribute and most unexpected, Pearl Jam played "Little Sister." It was Awe. Some.

4. I have no idea why I'm in grad school, when clearly my life-calling is to sing in a piano bar. Go to The Bar at Times Square in New York, New York the next time you're in Vegas.

5. I can always find my people in Vegas. While buying tickets to "Legends," the man behind the counter announced that he loved my Elvis necklace. We then bonded over "Elvis by the Presleys," and I think we semi-creeped out Nicole. He then remembered me the next day.

6. Speaking of my Elvis necklace, our brilliant cocktail waitress saw it and asked if Elvis was my name.

And the best portion of the trip, which makes reason number one just look sad in comparison, is that we went to another Elvis tribute show (which was, I'll admit, less than spectacular). During the show, which we had front row seats to, I got the scarf from this ETA's neck. So look for that on proud display the next time you come over. And the scarf still wasn't the best portion.

This Elvis Tribute Artist then kissed me during his performance.

And slipped me the tongue.

God bless Vegas. And Elvis.

More to follow.

Happy first of July

Happy July, everyone! June is over, which is sad since it is the best month of the year. But I digress . . .

Today is my ex's birthday. A fact I probably would have ignored, even with my Rainman memory for birthdays. It makes it a little hard to forget, though, when there is a voice-mail awaiting me from him when I get out of the shower.

Here is the transcript of said voicemail:

"Hey, it's my birthday. I doubt you remembered it, and I doubt that you even care. I'm not expecting a call from you, so I figured I'd call you. Happy birthday to me."

I am editing a couple of the profanities out. There were not one, not two, but three f-bomb adverbs in there.

It was a nice little good morning message. How do these people find me?