You’re not floating around all the casinos in a haze, struggling to recover from your bout of food poisoning. The last time I was in Vegas was around Thanksgiving. J and I mutually agreed that it would be a fab way to celebrate Turkey Day & to just get away from this crazy town for a while. J also loves poker and was hoping to play in a poker tournie. Well, we could hardly poke at our turkey dinners, even though they were from a fancy pants Wolfgang Puck dining establishment. J had no energy to play poker. He could only muster up enough energy for a lame video poker game. I had saved my money for a mani/pedi & massage at our hotel. That didn’t happen either because I opted to stay in bed and watch some yummy chick flicks, to J’s chagrin. I was just too tired to get my ass outta bed!

Two days before our Thanksgiving trip we both experienced extreme food poisoning syndroms. We either contracted it from Dominos or Quiznos (we’re so healthy!). I’ll never forget when my symptoms sprang up over fro yo at Pink Berry with my pal Nate. I suddenly had to cut Nate off, even though he was in the middle of one of his hilarious work misadventure stories. I bolted from my clear green stool and sprinted as fast as I could to Trader Joes to use the… uhh, facilities.

When I made it back to my apartment (thankfully Trader Joes is merely a mile away) I called J. His voice sounded as weak as mine. He had experienced tummy problems throughout the day. It didn’t occur to either one of us then that we both had the same sickness and, that our tummy problems would only grow grosser as the night progressed. We were poisoned! We mumbled our good-byes between our groans and, prayed that we would both be healthy by the time we hit the road for Vegas in 2 days.

All of last week I was paranoid that we’d come down with food poisoning again, thus not being capable of enjoying Vegas to the fullest in our “recovery stage.” However, this time around was nothing like the last. We (gasp) could eat! We could walk around different casinos for extended periods of time and not feel as though we were going to (ouch) collapse! We could drink (yay) large quantities of alcohol! We didn’t have to stay in bed all day and squabble about whether or not we’d rent a chick flick (yum) or guy movie (blah) next! We went to bed past (omigod) 10pm! We had lots of (blush) sex!

Now I’m sitting at work, jealous of J because he very wisely took today off. I will have to work out for hours every single day this week if I even think that I’m going to burn everything from this weekend off my untoned body. There was a time that I can honestly say that I was buff. I ran for about an hour every single week day, and hiked either Fryman or Runyan Canyon on the weekends. Oh, and the drinking… the DRINKING! I used to have a tiny glass of red wine after work on nights I felt stressed. I rarely feel stress where I work now, but somehow I’m drinking every night! This sounds so sick, but I wish I had the willpower to be one of those girls who can starve themselves. It would make the whole working out and not drinking as much thing so much easier, don’t ya think?

I was trying to wrack my brain, on the ride back from Sin City, as to what was my favorite memory of this particular journey. I could say something lame like, “the whole trip was so glorious that I can’t think of only one moment or memory,” but I’ll refrain from the lame on this lovely Monday afternoon. My favorite moment was when J and I found our favorite slot machine, “The Quack.” If you don’t know about “The Quack,” (and I’m pretty sure that it’s not actually called “The Quack.” I’m just always too apathetic and/or drunky drunk to inspect the damn machine) it’s the most awesome slot machine… ever! All these different animals, even a beloved basset hound, grace the top of the machine. The goal is to land on three “quacks.” When and if you do so, you try to land on one of the animals above for points. The cutesy-cute animal noises the machine makes always kills me. Please, please, next time you’re in Vegas, or any casino really, check this thing OUT! They are rather hard to come by though, hence our excitement when we spotted one in The Rio.

I played a round of “The Quack” as J left me to search for an atm. After a while, he came back, watched the rest of my game, (not as successful as my first “go”) and then I let him take a seat in front of her Majesty of Quackyness. As he began his round, he grabbed my waist and held it tightly. I had never felt so loved and in love and deliriously happy. It was just something in that moment that summed up “us.” There is no one else in this whole wild world that I want by my side. I knew this before our “Quack moment,” but the Quack moment re-emphasized this knowledge in every fiber of my being (cliche but oh so true, my friends).

The worst part of the trip happened when we got back from Vegas. We had stopped on our way back at his parents’ place, where we had left his fish. We hung out outside for a while, basking in the days last rays of sunlight. Spring has finally begun, guys! It was a beautiful night, what with the day lasting longer than usual and the birds singing and even bunny rabbits prancing about the lawn. Unfortunately, the sun went down & it was time to once again hit the road.

When I got in the car, I heard my phone beep. I glanced down at my phone, a missed call. I clicked my options menu to see who had called, but I didn’t recognize the 818 number. I became mildly concerned when I discovered that the person whose number I didn’t recognize had left a message. Is it just me or is there something quite disconcerting about phone calls with messages from unknown callers?

 I put my phone on speaker because I was in such suspense, wanting to check the message immediately while waving to J’s parents from the car at the same time. What I heard after pounding in my voicemail password truly stirred me. It was Sean. It was Sean, a guy from my past that I had casually dated a year and a half ago, and he was calling me, Korlina, out of the blue now? I didn’t even listen to the full message. I was somehow snapped back into reality, with the knowledge that J had just heard the line, “Hi, Korlina, it’s Sean,” and with the knowledge that I hadn’t waved bye to J’s rents. I was in a stupor, to say the least.

J shot me a concerned glance. With furrowed brows, he asked me who he was without having to verbally say anything.

I told him that Sean had been a guy I casually dated, blah blah blah. I told him that Sean had been an alcoholic in a literal rehab sort of way. I told him that Sean had been a major mistake. I told him that Sean… WARNING: this is gross… had been very physically forceful in trying to have butt sex with me. I.will.never.ever.have.butt.sex. After that physically abusive incident, (luckily he was too much of a drunk to hurt me and/or force me into butt sex. I know, I know, I was a complete fucking IDIOT to date a drunk and think “well, he’s fine when not drunk!”) I never returned his calls. He got the hint quickly after about three ignored phone call attempts.

What made me so angry and stirred up over Sean’s out of the blue message yesterday was that a.) J heard it and didn’t overreact. Instead, he listened to my explanation, told me that I really could have skipped the attempted butt sex part, and said that he trusts me. He trusts me & hopes that I would trust him as much if the tables were turned and he got an out of the blue call from an ex girlfriend or ex hookup (which I have, even though I didn’t react as calm/cool/collected as J did AND it was earlier in our relationship). Sometimes it makes me feel guilty when J is so cool about everything because I know I’m never gonna be as cool as him. Hello? I’m Miss Drama Queen! b.) Sean was baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad. He treated me like dirt. Dirt that he wanted to fuck. I don’t know why I got into even a hookup thing with him, but it happened. I’m so ashamed of once allowing myself to deal with guys of his shitty variety. The reminder of that part of my past always leaves me wound up and disturbed. c.) J and I had had the perfect weekend get-away to celebrate his birthday, and this was going to leave a damper on everything.

It turned out that Sean’s voicemail didn’t leave a damper & that J and I got over it pretty quickly. We stopped at Don Cuco’s in Acton on our way back home and had 2 giant cadillac margaritas. Those always help! Oh, yeah, being in love and never wanting to be with anyone else in the whole wide world helps as well. It helps blurr the memory of bad past relationships. It helps us look forward to the future with the one we can’t live without out. It helps eventually fade those old, unwanted, rotting past relationship memories into nothing. Nothing but dust that you curse at in a fleeting moment for worsening your allergies. ASSSSHEEEEW! God bless you. Why, thank you.