or, maybe, like everyone else my memory is faulty and not always to be relied upon.
after this i'm seriously going to work on the chapters i need for the rest of this week.
ok.. lets see.. i left with ruel late on saturday. now how did it go? maybe i should work backward from the end of the trip to the beginning (though it would probably be more challenging the other way).
all times given are approximations.
TUESDAY/MONDAY 4th/5th july 2005:
[3:30am]MONDAY/SUNDAY 3rd/4th july 2005:
arrived home after dropping ruel off at the haus and quickly recapping for jenn what happened on the trip.[5:30-9:30pm]
dinner (buffet--coz why else would you go if not to do the buffet thing anyway) at the Wynn (one of the more recent hotel/resort/casino additions... it did not yet stink of chain smoking and broken dreams). why four hours you say? oh because of the extremely ridiculous NONmoving line. it was a blur, now that i think about it, another forgettable in-line experience of feet going numb from the waiting and the body moving beyond hunger into the void.but the food was good. ruel kept on going back for the lamb (which i wasn't too keen on) and the man kept slicing off extremely thin slices of roast beef for me--i think because i'm supposed to eat daintily.. y'know, like a woman is supposed to.
[2pm-5pm]:
walking around in Circus Circus looking for wooden toothpick holder souvenirs (as per my dads request). watching ruel play some circus circus games in order to win me some stuffed animals/creatures/personalities. nothing big.. a tiny teddy bear that i'm calling cafe con leche; a purple ronald macdonald house bear (that im planning on crocheting a poncho for because hes shaped rather funny for a bear); the dad from family guy; a blueberry with arms and legs.i was quite surprised at his drive to play these silly games in order to win me a prize. surprised because when i asked him to try to win me a donkey at last years del mar fair he wouldn't. probably because i put too much pressure on him. oh well.. that was then and too long ago now.
[11:45am or something-2pm]:
watched "war of the worlds" (with tom crazy eyes cruz) at the century something theater in the new orleans mall/casino/hotel**.. a little ways down from the strip.the concession stand was self serve!
i thought this was great. and the theater reminded me a bit of the way it felt to be sitting in the seats at the cinemastar in chulavista. thats why i thought the folks were local nevadans (nevadians?)[9am-11am]:
woke up.free breakfast at the Hamptons, cue-ing (cuing?) up with the other vacationers. fighting for some tasty breakfast scraps and hoping to be fulfilled, still hopeful and ready to celebrate the last day of the three-day weekend.
showered/bathed, packed, changed and rearranged while watching MTVs made show. what can i say? the "blizzard" was coming.
[4am-9:30am]:
slept.
[10-ish pm--2:30-ish]as for the day sunday, during the day we did some laundry after breakfast, stayed in and took a nap.
killed some time after the Blue Man Group show..then made our way to the Palms in search of both club Rain and the Ghostbar.
the lines were forever and my feet in those boots were on their way to being good n' numb. but i was excited overall because i had tackled my fear of the dancefloor the night before at RA. there were a lot of other people who were just as insecure (if not more) than me and so i was quite looking forward to... oh i don't know.. taking more chances i suppose.
both Rain and Ghostbar were ridiculously expensive and we probably would've done better if we had not been so excited to go to the places and then failed to "prepare" drinks beforehand.
it was interesting and big fun all around though. the dancefloor was quite the experience. there were so many people. it was a mosh pit of confusion and competition. i didn't care anymore because i was trying this new thing of being carefree in las vegas. once i tricked myself (that first night at RA) into believing i was playing the part of a club kid, i was fine. blended right in and eventually had a good old time.
there were two go-go dancers that i saw. one with a really meant-to-be sexy outfit of crimson corset and matching accoutremont (sp?) she wasn't such a good dancer as the other girl with the awful outfit. and i was watching from quite a distance on the second-ish floor of the place.
of course i watched and studied and copied. i copied and competed on the dancefloor so hard that the bottoms of my feet were practically obliterated and the muscles in my thighs and (well hell, everywhere) were hurting gorgeously. i was drenched in the sweat of this craziness of gyrating and writhing. marvelous stuff the possibilities of the body when you can let your mind wander away for awhile.
as soon as i said my feet hurt ruel suggested we try the Ghostbar next. his face was soon pained with the realization of his quickly depleting funds. i told him, as i'm often telling him, that we could/should do something that won't put him in the po'house. but he insisted. and i know better than to insist back.. all the insisting and resisting is just a waste of energy. so.. in my continued effort to "enjoy" myself and not think too much i said fine and forced myself into an acceptable (not pained) position in line. thirsty for water and longing to sit down for a brief spell i just pushed myself further. it was so interesting to me, what was happening to my body and my mind.. pushing through physical pain is something i want to continue as a practice. i like it. it may sound silly.. but i like it a lot.
we paid (and by we i of course mean he.. well, he for the time being) our way in and rode the elevator up to the 55th or the 60th or some such numbered floor and entered the scene. it was quite a hopping loungey (loungy?) type of place. dripping with the posh and the voyeur and fiend (feind?) and the insecure and the lusty. fun.
moving through the clusters of bodies swaying and moving slightly here and there we ended up on the balcony over-looking most/all of las vegas.
the lights all over town were quite a sight. the breeze (and it was surprising that there actually was one in the first place) was easy, gentle. and i knew that if i just calmed myself that i would begin to cool off and enjoy. i did.. they played more music and ruel and i danced a bit more.. surrounded, tired and with some thinking on standby we danced a little--though it would probably be more accurate to say moved rather than danced.we took in the view and breeze and i still kept trying to stop myself from becoming more emotional than i needed to be.
he'll be leaving very soon, you see and i may never see him ... or not for a long time. that is to say, if we even stay together for the long distance.
but soon that won't be up to me and bracing myself comes naturally to me anyway.my, buy how stray...
and so getting to the room was a bit of a blur. i was pulsating with pains and aches...
and i have to say that i really did (and do) adore the feeling throughout.
the nap is important only because i woke up crying from a bad dream. i couldn't stop crying or hurting about it. i went to the bathroom and cried and cried and snivled like a miserable fool. my thoughts were on toni for some reason. feeling some sort of delayed pull or feeling guilt, distraction or perhaps just feeling too much. you see, the dream was about her. i wanted to call her but i thought i might be intruding--and anyway thats not fair to do that to someone who is a friend who is going all along without you, used to your absence and a new set of functions--on the path she was meant to be on and doing her own thing. its wrong, wouldn't you agree, to interrupt that? selfish and wrong, i think. too easy to say, "i've been feeling this blah blah blah. i don't know where you're at in life but i've been thinking this blah blah blah."
truly, i think that is where the guilt lies with me.. in assuming that she is thinking that i walked away and therefore if i walked (or even had an inkling to return to something) that i couldn't/shouldn't expect to return to the same place as though i'd left a bookmark on her, our friendship, the life weaving in and out and through.
but i don't mean to sound like some jilted lover who cannot forget the bad breakup. but the dream was about hurt, i remember that much. the dream was about hurting carelessly and being hurt because of that previous hurt and so on and so forth.. until so many years yielded so much hurt--too much of it.
and anyway it was about neglect and consequences and making a choice. in the dream i had hurt her badly though i don't remember why or how. and i was either being made to feel the pain that she wanted to walk away from.. or.. i don't know.. i couldn't stop crying and thinking and regretting and beating myself up. i text messaged her because i was a coward and could not speak.
later on ruel and i had a serious talk about.... what we wanted, together or apart, and i was overwhelmed yet again.
honestly, i did not expect it to happen again. i did not expect to love someone so much, again. i thought i had been wise in my choices, telling myself about purpose and pursuing a path and following through with someone. taking the time that i didn't take on my first try to push past all the b.s. but it seems that for all my effort there are still other things that take over. and i don't quite know what to do about any of it. where i am or what that means or--?
i used to throw this thought around like a frisbee.. i used to say/think, aww hell i'll just break up. we'll just break up.. dissolve the relationship and things will be alright again. i will have my sanity back. my life as it was, untouched. i used to practice saying it aloud to myself and in the presence of others. i confided in my closest friends a great deal. at the end of it i would still somehow come back to the impossibility of turning backward.. of unseeing, unhearing, and unfeeling his presence in my life.
i said all that i did to convince and kid myself, so that i could brace myself.. and now look.. here i am again!
weighed down by it.. helpless to its whims.
love and how gruesome.
but what was i talking about before now..? oh yes.. talking serious talks. with me he does not always allow himself to be vulnerable. but that he does it at all means a great deal. but it is as though, with him, the proverbial door is always shut. stuck that way almost. with me, its almost the complete opposite. with me, there are no doors, only archways and refracting light.
or anyway thats how i like to picture it. the notion of possibility is so appealing to the starved of it i think.
and now.. um.. i don't remember much else. perhaps later on... but for now only the small corners of night and day remain enclosed here [].
13:52 - Tuesday, Jul. 05, 2005
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