Thirty Three

This past Friday I powered through the worst ice of the century to get to the airport. In Texas, an inch of ice puts cities on shut down and people freak out. I get it though; they don't have this happen often so they don't have resources available and so the roads are going to suck more (and for longer) and people are going to panic. Thanks Obama.

Anywho, I went to the airport to fly to Arizona where I spent my birthday weekend with my lovely mother, who spoiled me rotten. I've discovered something strange about me - I do not like to talk about my vacations. Any time I go to Arizona, people want to know all about it but I just don't feel like talking about it. And I have no idea why that is. I enjoyed myself, had fun with my mother as usual, got some great gifts, had a fun party, and suffered my usual travel anxiety. Even when I write about it in my paper journal, it's pretty obligatory. I don't think this is a very nice part of my personality because it feels kind of bitchy.

I don't know why I do that. Part of me really does think "why do you care?" but that's just because I'm a jerk. And it isn't like it's some giant secret. Honestly, I think I'm just lazy about it. It happened, I had fun, it's over, let's move on, shall we? But, in the spirit of not being a lazy asshole, I'll try to talk about

My Trip to Arizona 2013
After kicking my door a few times in order to get it open, I turned on my car to let it defrost. I then scraped the shit out of my windows. It took at least 40 minutes and I didn't have side mirrors but meh, what are you going to do? It took me about an hour to get to the airport because parts of the roads were messed up and I was driving in a low gear and we were all going slow. Props to the Bat for telling me about driving in low gear. He couldn't take me because he'd fucked his back up at work that morning. Whilst I was being feted all weekend, that poor sod was stuck on the couch enjoying the effects of muscle relaxants. Anyhow, I got to the airport and then I got on a plane and got to Arizona where I was picked up by my mother. I was exhausted but she made me open two of my presents when we got to her house. One was a a wood carving of a buffalo that she picked up in Alaska. I loved it and have since named him Benjamin. But she said "Oh, that isn't a good one, open another one." So I picked one up and asked if it was a good one and she said "yes" so I opened it. Woman bought me a freaking iPad. No, I don't know if it is the new one and no, it isn't the iPad air or whatever. But it is a mother fucking iPad. Pretty nifty. Then she let me go to bed.

On Saturday morning, the moms and I had coffee and croissants. This is how spoiled I am (if an iPad were not enough evidence): two days before I left for Phoenix, I asked my mom if she could make sure we had good coffee and croissants available. She asked what kind of coffee and actually went out to buy it. She accidentally got whole bean but whatev. The point is, she made sure we had coffee and croissants for breakfast.

My mom is a "frequent flyer" at the casinos (her words) so she gets a lot of comped stuff. When she found a cheap flight for my birthday (I paid for my flight, lest you think I'm that spoiled), she told her casino hostess about it and said hostess said that if I came out she'd comp us spa treatments and dinner at the schmancy restaurant. Oh, and a free room. So after breakfast we drove to one casino so that I could meet the lovely woman, and then we went to Wild Horse Pass for our spa appointments. The spa was totally schmancy, with a coed waiting area and a women only waiting area, plush robes, and comfortable furniture. We waited in the coed room because it was warmer and I took full advantage, laying out on a chaise lounge under a blanket until Dana, my spa tech, came to get me for my pedicure. She was great and I had her in stitches telling her about how the bitch flight attendant tried to not let me go to the bathroom. "I'm going to pee. I can do it in my seat or I can do it in the bathroom." So yay spa!

After the spa, moms and I drove to the casino where we would be staying, had a few drinks, played the penny slots, and eventually had dinner. Filet mignon, really, really good asparagus (seriously, the entire time I was just amazed by the asparagus), and truffle fries. We ordered the truffle fries because we'd never had them and I think we both thought they'd be made out of truffles. Nope. You just use truffle oil. They were good but they were essentially just good fries. For my pre dinner drink, I ordered a Three Wise Men as suggested to me by the Bat. The waiter brought me the shot and a glass of ice because I think he was concerned about my taking a shot of Jim Beam, Johnny Walker, and Jose Quervo. So I had it over the rocks and it was surprisingly good. I don't know why the Bat suggested it but it seemed fitting for the season. My mom thought it was because we were celebrating my 33rd birthday and Jesus died at the age of 33 or something.

You know, maybe this is why I don't like talking about my vacations. I am really, really bad at it and don't do them justice. But whatev. We gambled more and I left my mom at 9:15 because I was exhausted. She came up at 11:30; like I said, she is a frequent flier.

Sunday was chill. We got our finger nails done, I opened more presents, and I took a nap. Because I'm exciting like that. My party was that night so a few people that I know came over with an ice cream cake and some dollar store gifts (cause I harped on my friend Kara for not getting my anything). It was swell, I had people take ridiculous pictures of me, and then called it a night. On Monday I had a lovely lunch with my lovely mother, got really frustrated with packing, and flew home. The end.

The flight actually sucked. My first flight was delayed by 30 minutes and my second one was delayed by 80 or so. I was really scared I was going to get stuck in Albuquerque but I did not and landed at about midnight. I was dead tired on my drive home but I made it, went into the house, threw all of my shit into the closet, and climbed into bed. The Bat was asleep but reached over to pat me and, as he later told me, thought "OK, good, she's home".

So there you have it. I had taken Tuesday off, which was smart of me, and I slept until 11. Then I was just bored out my mind so did some laundry and cleaned the refrigerator. There wasn't much food so I drove to Target and was surprised at first by the bare shelves. Then I remembered "oh, right, Icemaggedon". Went home, made a sandwich, chatted with Monkey, and then watched movies with the Bat before going to bed. Again, I'm an exciting girl.

This morning I woke up ridiculously early and, as I drove to work, had to stop at my place because I felt nauseous. I actually threw up, which is something I only do when I have food poisoning, so it was weird. I'm pretty sure it was the juice I'd made that morning. So I threw up and slept for a few hours and then drove to work (and no, there is not a chance in Hell of my being pregnant or else the Bat has lied to me), which is where I am now, with nothing to do. That should change soon but for the moment, I'm just bored and catching up on my snark site and hate reads.

All in all, I had a phenomenal birthday and I'm a happy girl. I decided that yes, I am happy. The Bat reminded me that I need to live in the moment more and not worry about what may happen down the road. I have trouble with that and think it is tied to my anxiety. Fortunately, they make pills for that and I always have them with me. So I'm trying to enjoy the moments and just accept that I am, indeed, happy. I've been happy in myself for quite some time now but I'm not used to being happy in a healthy relationship. And the Bat is nice to me and never says things to make me feel bad about who I am (he likes the way I speak and doesn't make me feel weird for the words I use). I need to stop waiting/assuming he's going to change and just take things as they are. Maybe we stay together for a long time. Maybe we don't. What's happening now is what matters and right now I'm happy and want to make him happy. I enjoy spending time with him and talking to his kid. I like snuggling on the sofa and watching movies and going to the sushi bar. I like having my routines and contributing to the household and all that grown up shit.

I'm happy and I'm just going to accept that. And I'm pretty sure 33 is going to be a kick ass year.