Observations And Open Letters

I’m back from Vegas!

In a word: It was frickin’ HOT.

(Okay, that’s 4 words. But I didn’t know how to describe the blazing sun, being drenched in sweat and scorching my feet on the sand at the pool in any fewer words.)

But it was AWESOME!

A few observations:

1. The only thing you leave in Vegas is MONEY.
(A Grey Goose and soda for $10? Kobe beef for $24/ounce? Really?)

2. There must have been some sort of luggage crisis at the airport where they lost lots of bags, because just about every girl I saw was barely wearing any clothing at all.
(And sunglasses don’t count as clothing. Neither do toe rings.)

3. SO many people STILL smoke. Even in 105 degree weather. I can’t even imagine sitting by the pool in that heat and putting FIRE next to my face.

4. I may be blind, because I didn’t see one celebrity. Okay, I saw one sort-of-not-really-semi celebrity, but I’m way too embarrassed to say who because then you’ll know I watch super cheesy TV.
(Apparently Perez Hilton was at Tao the night after me. How did I miss HIM walking around The Strip???)

5. I am the only person without a Crackberry. Apparently to be hip and cool, you not only need some sort of a PDA, but you must completely ignore the people with whom you are out, because you are talking to/texting/emailing someone WAY more important.


…and a few Open Letters:

To The Asshole With The iPhone Sitting Across From Me On My First Flight:
Hey, buddy, when they say, “Please turn off all electronic devices before take off”, that includes you and your silly iPhone. And? When you ignore them (and my dirty looks), and you force the nice flight attendant to announce to the plane, “We have asked for all electronic devices to be turned off and put away at this time. We are still getting signals that there are electronic devices in use”, you need to realize that she is talking to YOU. Or, you can ignore her completely (again) and wait until she taps you on the shoulder personally and asks you to put your stupid phone away.

To The People On The Dallas Flight Who Can’t Follow Directions:
Are your ears broken? Do you NOT see the little lighted seat belt sign informing you to keep yourself buckled in? Oh, you heard the flight attendant? Oh, and you see the sign? Then why, please tell me, are you standing up and walking all over the effing plane? Have you no regard for safety AT ALL? We’re not even four minutes into our flight yet. The airplane is still at a steep incline because we’re climbing into the sky. What part of that gave you the idea that RIGHT NOW would be the perfect time to walk up and down the aisle, go to the bathroom, and chat with your friend sitting three rows back? And shame on you for making that sweet flight attendant use her stern voice when she was yelling, “There are WAY too many people out of their seats! The captain has NOT turned off the seat belt sign. PLEASE SIT DOWN!” Losers.

To All The 25-Year Old Guys With Wads Of Cash:
Um, can I ask what you do? For work, I mean. What is it you do that enables you to have a stash of $100 bills that would make Donald Trump proud? Just look at you in your Dolce sunglasses, your Rock and Republic jeans with the rips in all the right places, your Christian Audigier T-shirts and icky hair grease. And do you drink beer like most twenty-something guys? Nope. Not you. You drink pricey scotches (no Dewar’s for you!) and little-known vodkas. And just when I thought you spent all of your money at the bar buying drinks for those hootchie girls, there you are playing Blackjack for $300 a hand. You? Make me sick.

To MTV:
Damn you, MTV! Hitting me when I’m down, when I’m watching TV away from home, unfamiliar with the channels. Shame on you for making me addicted to The Hills. Before Tuesday night, I had never even seen one minute of the show, poo-pooing it as something not worth my time. But there I was, flipping the channels and vulnerable, when I got distracted and put the remote down. The Hills was just starting. There’s just something about over-privileged twenty-somethings that gets me. (see previous Open Letter)
(Btw, I think the show is mis-titled and should be something along the lines of, “Uncomfortable Silences And Stares”, but we can chat about that at a later date.)

Hugs and kisses to all,
kk