Monday was one of those days my old boss would call a 'mental health' day. Lately it seems that I'm just getting totally burnt out on work, and although most nights are a lot of fun, I just *really* need to get away. Too many little things are starting to annoy me, so it was nice to wake up yesterday and know that I didn't have to deal with any of it for at least 72 hours.
I had a few things to do yesterday--first of all, I had a couple of $25 free-play bet coupons for Green Valley Ranch that were set to expire, so I wanted to make sure I used them. I was hoping for the same kind of luck as I had last year after I went to the Imperial Palace to use up my matchplays and ended up making almost a thousand dollars. No such luck this time, the dealer was too hot and I would've gotten more use out of those coupons had I set them on the back of the toilet and used them when the Northern ran out. Besides, I didn't have my favorite Pai Gow Freak sitting next to me, so it was probably doomed from the start.
On the way back to the parking lot, however, I stopped at that same dollar machine I where I won $350 a couple weeks ago and ran a twenty through it. I hit a few things and ran my credits up to $94, and was hoping to hit a hundred, but I had no such luck. Gotta work on a better stop-loss strategy, as I cashed out with only $40 instead of something more reasonable like $60 or even $75. Yep, I am a dumbass. But a dumbass that doubled up, at least.
After my brief sojourn to GVR, I hit the Target across the street from Sunset Station to purchase a few essentials. Every few months I go and stock up on stuff like laundry soap, razor blades, toilet paper (since I'd just used the last of my free play coupons....), body wash, deodorant, toothpaste, etc etc etc. Somehow I forgot that the economy was surging along like a runaway train and every frickin' housewife in the 891 was out Christmas shopping on Monday morning, so my trip to Target was a little more lengthy, complicated, and frustrating than I anticipated. I spent just under a hundred bucks, not buying any toys or anything, yet everything I bought fit into three plastic bags. If I were smarter, I would buy Gillette stock, because those guys have somehow convinced the American male population to hand over $17 for eight razor blades created out of about 35 cents worth of materials. It's almost as genius as those guys in Seattle figuring out that people will stand in line to pay five bucks for a cup of filtered bean water. But if I want to maintain my ultra sexy and smooth dome, I have to pay for the premium blades. And having a cup of Starbucks in my hand makes me look cool, too, so I guess I'm just part of the problem...
Anyhow, Doc Al and Ross were out chasing the little white ball all over the expensive real estate all day, but we had plans to hook up for dinner, so I came home, made a ham samminch, and took a nap while waiting for the Chicago Bears to lay the smack down on my lovable, yet pathetic, Rams.
We ended up bagging the dinner plans--I didn't hear from them until almost six, but they had to go exchange rental cars at 8pm, so by the time I could shower and change dinner would've been a rush job, so we skipped it.
I was exhausted anyways, and so out of it that I must've been bordering on incoherent when I talked to Al on the phone, but I was working on paying off that sleep deficit I've been running, so the nap and relaxing evening at home did me good.
I finally got up out of my nest and went exploring around the house--actually, I shuffled off to the fridge to grab a bottle of diet coke, and lo and behold there were two big boxes sitting on the floor outside my bedroom door. One came from the wilds of rural North Carolina, courtesy of Hoyaheel, and the other one came from the Great White North, from the office of a famous photographer, who has a real name, but I just call her Sticky.
I opened the one from Hoya first, because I was under strict instructions not to open Sticky's package until I had her on the phone or at least on the voice messenger on Yahoo. Hoya, who obviously knows me too well, sent me a small bottle of Mt. Gay Rum--which probably won't see the light of day tomorrow, a box of homemade goodies, a bumper sticker for my truck (Time Flies When You're Having Rum), and a wrapped-up gift for under the tree. And the tin of cookies had come open when I was opening the box, so I had to spend a few minutes segregating the styrofoam packing peanuts from the treats. I think I got 'em all, but we'll find out soon enough..
However, I *know* that Hoya knows me too well, and I absolutely knew what wrapped gift was as soon as I picked it up... I didn't cheat, but I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that there is a box of wine glasses waiting for me under my tree. I know I mentioned the fact that I don't have any, and I'm guessing that Hoya went out shopping the next day to correct that situation. Just a guess, but I'd bet my paycheck on it.
Heh.
Thanks Hoya!
Later on I sent Sticky a text message that her package had arrived, even though she told a little white lie to the Customs people to smuggle it into the country, courtesy of the US Postal Service. Nope, it's not Cuban cigars...
So we got on the computer and she dialed me up on the voice messenger and had me open the box. It was triple-sealed with packing tape, and after I managed to cut through it, I was told to open the card first, and it was a funny one, reflecting both of our twisted senses of humor. There were three gifts in the box though, and I was instructed to open the flat black box first.
Inside was an 8x10 print of a picture she took here in Las Vegas on a previous trip--it's a black and white night shot of the Strip, looking north from the pedestrian overpass on Tropicana. I'd seen an online, and smaller version, of it, and complimented her on taking such a cool picture (she is, after all, a professional photographer), so she was kind enough to give me a copy. It was very thoughtful and I can't wait to hang it up.
There was also a fun gift in the box, which she had me open up next. We have an ongoing joke about her coffee addiction, and the fact that the only commercials on Canadian TV are for snow tires or Tim Horton's donuts. But Tim Horton's apparently makes awesome coffee, so she sent me a big can of it. I'm not sure exactly how big it is, metric system and all, but I hope I don't like it too much, otherwise I'm gonna have to start importing the stuff.
Then came the last present in the box.
I knew she'd been browsing my wish list on Amazon, so I figured she'd sent me any one of about two dozen different sailing books I have picked out. But no, the box was too small to be a book--it looked more like a double-wide cd or dvd case.
It was neither.
Sticky sent me the most unbelievable gift I've gotten in a long time. I was shocked, almost speechless, when I unwrapped my new 30 gig video Ipod!
Oh hell yeah.
It took me a moment to compose myself, but I was blown away. There was also a very nice note included that made me realize just how lucky I am to know somebody like her. All I could say was "Wow!" and about a million thank-you's.
But it gets even better. I mean, a new Ipod is a very nice and thoughtful gift, especially to somebody like me who values music as one of the most important things in life. But she went above and beyond and searched the archives here on my website and found that post where I listed my 100 Greatest Songs of All Time, and then spent a week loading them all onto the Ipod for me.
I was floored.
Truly, the coolest gift ever. Sticky is one in a million! She also loaded up a few dozen other songs that we've talked about in conversations over the past couple of months--songs that we've thought each other would like and should add to our collections.
So here I sit, nibbling on Hoya's homemade creations, sipping a little rum and coke, listening to Jimmy Buffett's cover of Southern Cross, and thinking that I'm one of the luckiest guys on earth.
I have amazing friends.
Merry Christmas, everyone, especially Sonya, because without whom I otherwise would've never met Sticky or Hoya (or Angy, or Andrea, or Dougie, or Doc, or Dawn...and the list goes on and on!)
Mikey
No comments:
Post a Comment