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Paris with a friend
We met very near the chandeliers we had joked about. I had just given my car over to valet and entered the Paris Las Vegas when there she was. My best friend.
Timing couldn’t have been better, and given the sea of people, nothing short of a miracle that we found each other at all.
Rewind to Christmas.
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Santa brought me a cold/flu of some sort. Wasn’t that nice? I got through the day, and kept a smile on my face – but the day afterwards, I stayed in bed.
I never do that.
Crawl onto the couch when I’m feeling under the weather – yes. Stay in bed all day? Nope.
I had no choice. My head felt like I had angry bees with sledge hammers in it. Someone must have also sneaked Rice Crispies into my sinuses and ears.
I was SO determined not to miss my lunch date on Friday that I let my fever run. (We have fevers for a reason no? The body’s way of fighting whatever has invaded our body?) I hydrated and coughed and even had that sexy gravely voice. Joking aside, I haven’t felt that rotten in years, and I was starting to fear I would miss seeing my friend for our annual get together.
I had posted my status on Facebook – to which my friend’s mom commented: Don’t get Lisa sick!
That made me smile – such a mom thing to say – and if my fever hadn’t broken, I would not have taken the chance of doing just that.
But break it did!
I still felt about 40% of my usual self, but excitement cloaked my lack of physical energy with a mental enthusiasm.
Off to Vegas I went.
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The red roped entrance to the only way you can get to the restaurant is manned by a very well dressed secret service looking gentleman – with an earpiece and shiny badge.
Lisa advised we had reservations and we were escorted to the elevator.
It wasn’t until the doors closed and we began our ascent, that Lisa joked “I hope you’re not afraid of heights.”
I am.
But I was still cloaked in excitement – and impervious to such phobias in that moment.
The elevator stopped – doors opened and …
“Are we on the right floor?”
We were. This is the first thing you see!
Lisa and I are huge chef/food fans. If they had said we could sit in the kitchen, I’m sure we both would have leapt at the chance.
But then we would have missed the amazing table we were seated at.
The very right side corner in the top of the above picture was to be our spot.
The bottom photo shows an advertisement for the restaurant – which, also happens to be our table.
Best seat in the house.
Directly across from the Bellagio fountains.
We were brought menus that weren’t read for a while – too much to talk about!
But hunger won out. We decided to start with appetizers, well, an appetizer and an entree that we decided would also be an appetizer.
Our drinks arrived first – I had the most amazing concoction … Cucumber Lemonade.
Who thought that up? I’m glad they did.
Bread and then a tiny vessel (I’m sure it has a proper name) of cauliflower puree with rice cracker seed ‘balls’ was placed in front of us.
It was like cauliflower pudding. Cold and adorable and delicious!
The appetizers followed – Cold Foie Gras Torchon (Duck prosciutto, fig compote, Brioche) and an Assortment of French Cheese (with Walnut Raisin Bread and Apricot Chutney.)
I was leery of the fig compote – I’m not a fig fan. But I was absolutely going to try everything! I’m SO glad I did. It was incredible!
(Lisa made me eat my micro greens too.)
More chatting – catching up … the staff kept coming by but I wasn’t letting the food go. I know neither of us wanted to rush the time together, but I also didn’t want to rush the culinary experience! I was determined to savor each bite.
Eventually we let them take the plates (not without me asking for the remains to be placed in a box that would come with me.)
Entrees.
I had the Baked Crepes. Filled with Artichokes, Roasted Tomato Coulis and Basil.
Lisa ordered the Aged Parmesan Crusted Chicken. Potato Gratin and Vegetables shared the plate with that.
Every bite was delicious – and yes, I made it over to Lisa’s plate too.
There was nothing to box from the entrees. Plates were cleaned.
More chatting – and the fountains had started doing their fountainy thing.
You can imagine, there was so much to look at and so much to talk about – but we did eventually get around to dessert.
The Creme Brulee and Triple Chocolate Cake with Creme Fraiche.
The cake was deceiving – it looked like fudge! Seemed as if it would be dense, but our forks slipped right through and how they made all that chocolate so light and airy had to be some molecular gastronomy trick.
I had been escorted to the bathroom earlier (Yes, it was ‘that’ kind of fancy – “Pardon me, where are your bathrooms?” “May I show you?” Why yes, yes you may.) and told Lisa we had to go back before we left.
So after reluctantly prying ourselves away from the table – we went to freshen up and of course, take some photos.
We took ‘selfies’ to a new level at the fancy vanity.
Oh, and the top left was while we were waiting for our table, and the top right was taken by our very sweet bus boy.
We definitely needed to walk some of that lunch off – so we almost made it to the elevator when I remembered my cardigan was on the back of my chair. Retrieved that and past the kitchen we went – glancing longingly at the behind the scenes action – then down the Eiffel Tower into the belly of the Casino.
We walked outside for a bit – then back inside to explore Paris.
It was getting late in the afternoon – I live in a different time zone and knew I still had to navigate the Vegas roads to find my way to a Freeway I was familiar with before the sun got any lower in the sky.
(That’s a whole other post – Vegas drivers are bonkers! I was shaking at one point – with people taking the 75 mph signs as a minimum, not a limit. Barreling down on me, as I squinted at upcoming signs to watch for my exit – which, I missed. I learned a) I’m pretty sure I need glasses and b) If I ever do win the lottery, I’m hiring a driver for long trips on scary fast roads!)
Tangent over – let’s get to the difficult part.
Goodbyes are hard.
Lisa stood with me in Valet – and for some time after I had my car and was trying to merge into the exit lane. This became comical as she stood beside my car on the sidewalk as cycle after cycle of green/red lights afforded me only inches of movement.
I finally turned onto the strip and looked over my shoulder to see her in the crowd – but could not.
Giant sigh – sad heart.
We talk almost everyday – she knows everything there is to know about me. The good the bad – and the things we only ever tell one person. And considering how willing to share I am, you know those things are deep and very private.
She makes me laugh, she knows my likes and dislikes, my hopes and dreams – and she encourages them or brings me back to reality – depending on the situation.
And yet, I only get to see her once a year.
And I was not going to let a fever take this day away.
I feel a little silly – my eyes watering while I type those words. I just miss her you know?
I miss my friend.
And I’m so glad I got to share such an amazing experience with her.
So until next year – I love you Lisa. And thank you for crossing one of my bucket list items off.
‘Twas the Night Before Christmas
Christmas Eve.
Nic asked me to wake him up this morning, so before I left for work I did just that and was rewarded with a tired hug.
For a moment – a fleeting moment – as I looked at his sleepy face and disheveled hair, I saw my boy.
It’s so odd.
So different.
Gone are the Christmas Eves peppered with ‘Can I open just one??’
Gone are the cookies and milk for Santa.
No more waiting for him to be asleep before tip toeing to his stocking.
No more biting carrots for reindeer and leaving remnants on the porch.
No more sprinkling glitter by a fireplace – leaving footprints in the carpet.
I miss that.
I miss wrapping Lego and Pokemon.
I miss small pajamas.
I miss the smell of his freshly washed hair – of “1,2, threeeee!” As I picked him up, wrapped in an impossibly big towel, out of the tub.
I miss story time and his heavy lids – minty yawns and ‘See you in the morning!’
Today I miss my boy.
But am oh so grateful for the young man who is my son this Christmas Eve.
Musings from the Laundromat: ‘Twas 3 nights before Christmas
This is my last musing from the laundromat before Christmas. I just peeked up from my table and over a washer to see if there were any decorations … I do see a fake poinsettia poked strategically in a fake potted plant – but other than that – nope.
Halloween they had a skeleton on the bathroom door – perhaps it is a paganmat – which would be fine by me, only I don’t see any solstice decorations either. No Yule altars on the folding tables.
Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yes, this is the last musing before Christmas (tangents are your gift, you’re welcome.)
I’ve decided I have the best friends on the planet.
Friday my friend Ruth brought tears to my eyes and renewed my faith that if you do the right things, and are kind – you DO receive kindness in return. The point is though, you shouldn’t expect it.
Kindness is magic. Right Derek?
It occurs to me, I really need to look into what photos I can use from the internet – but I can think of worst things than Ricky Gervais asking me to remove something.
‘Madame, kindly (the magical kind) remove the photo of me and the dog.’ Or, ‘Madame, kindly (still the magical kind) remove your clothing.’ :-O Ricky!!!
Back to expecting things.
Anyone who knows me knows I don’t expect anything. Almost to the point of channeling Eeyore. Hope from time to time? Yes. But certainly don’t expect.
Yesterday I went shopping – it wasn’t as bonkers as I was expecting. (Oh my goodness! I DO expect things.)
I didn’t cross everything off of my list, but got to say ‘Merry Christmas’ a few times and had the experience of being outside with other humans, so it was overall pretty great.
That’s another facet to this season I was missing. I was telling my friend Betty … I haven’t BEEN anywhere! One of my favorite things about the holiday season is the cheer and good nature from strangers.
It’s hard to bump into a stranger and witness cheer or good nature when I’m either in an office, driving to and from the office, or in my house (Gawd, I would HOPE I didn’t ‘bump into’ a stranger whilst driving! Or in my house. Because we know, Butters is crap at protecting me.)
Betty gave me some pretty adorable little earrings. (She knows me – she knows I only do ‘little’.)
She also gave me a ceramic gingerbread house that warms oil that Nic has adopted. That child has inherited my love of scents it seems.
He keeps absconding with candles and air freshening devices into his room.
The entire house smells of peppermint this morning courtesy of the late night fragrance kid.
Speaking of fragrances – after my shopping experience, I checked the mail.
There was a small box for me from my friend Rachel.
An entire bag of samples!!! I was over the moon. 🙂 She read my December 15th post and was sweet enough to send me more ‘little scents’ to be excited about.
(Probably I should hide them from Nic. Although – he hasn’t shown any interest in my perfumes yet … just household fragrance devices.)
So this brings me to wonder, if I blog about something – will it be sent to me?
If so – here’s what else I love.
Kindness for you.
Health and happiness for you and yours.
Wishes to come true for you.
Love for you.
And serenity and a peaceful heart – for you.
I’ll take a naked mole rat colony please and Santa, I’ve been good, may I please have my lobster?
Finding Grace
Last night as I lay in bed I felt shame.
Shame for allowing myself to be sad and for voicing it when I have so much to be grateful for.
The saying ‘there are others a lot worse off than you’ came to mind.
Then I wondered – who then, is within their rights to express their sadness or fears?
The person who has lost a limb? But there is someone who has lost two – or was born with none.
The person who is undergoing chemotherapy? There is someone who is terminally ill with no resources for any treatment at all.
The person who has lost the love of their life? There are people who have never known love.
These thoughts flooded my head with examples ad infinitum.
My last thought before I found sleep, was the realization that I was looking for excuses for my behavior.
And that was unacceptable to me.
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This morning, with a rested body and a more positive attitude, I was able to examine those thoughts without the end game being an argument for my negativity.
Sadness must be felt.
It must be because it is.
As simple as that.
It should never be discounted.
We should not tell people ‘you shouldn’t feel that way.’
Feeling pain or disappointment or fear is okay.
It must be felt.
Embraced – released – and remembered.
Yes.
Remembered.
Not lamented.
Letting go doesn’t mean you’re erasing something – it means you’re acknowledging that you don’t have to stay with it.
But to forget cripples our growth.
How are we to be grateful for good when we have not fully experienced bad?
How to know joy when sadness was hurried away? Brushed off as if it had no right to be on our shoulders?
As long as I can look fear or pain or sadness in the eye and ask the right question ‘What can I do about this?’ I should not be ashamed.
But never should I sit in discontent without voice or action.
Happy AND marshmallows
I am so completely happy today.
This morning began at work with a video call that brought such amazing news. I tried very hard to pay attention, but it’s hard to do when looking at someone who is one of your favorite people on the planet.
You would think that would be enough happy for the day (and it is – more than enough.) But, today was also Thanksgiving feast day at work.
All day long the smell of roast turkey permeated every corner of the office.
I probably heard ‘Oh my God, that smell is making me so hungry!’ at least half a dozen times as people passed by my room. I was responsible for another six of those comments.
When it finally came time to sit down together – like the family we are – plates were piled high.
Everyone had brought a dish (except me, I volunteered to clean up afterward.)
I made an amazing discovery as I took my first forkful.
Marshmallow goes with EVERYTHING!
The candied yams had mingled with the pasta – zucchini – turkey – cranberries and mashed potatoes.
The Ghostbusters were on to something.
Seriously.
There wasn’t anything on my plate that wasn’t elevated to a new and amazing level with the sticky sweet marshmallow on it.
So my day ended the way it began – very sweet.
And now, as I told my friends, I’m rolling around the house like a bloated tick. Stuffed and happy and smiling.
Happy Tuesday everyone.






















