Caterwauling

Sat by the wave pool today. Had sand in my toes and it seemed like a perfectly logical way to rid myself of it. I had my feet in the water for an hour — my feet-up Friday is the most fantastic ever!

Don’t worry — I don’t do the bathing-suit thing. Too afraid of being harpooned or something. 😉 But what does amaze/impress me is how many women just don’t care who’s looking at them. I have a slight self-conscious streak that’s more apparent in beach-weather situations, and maybe it’s the fact that everyone’s on vacation, but hey. Apparently if you can get the suit on, you can wear it!

I’m more freckled than when I came out here, thanks to today being the first day I actually got exposed to sunlight. My chest got tan, which is nice, but damn these freckles — they stopped being cute about 25 years ago!

My poor, aching feet. I just wandered the entire resort barefoot and standing on the hot cement hurt less than wearing shoes. Oh well. There are other children who would kill to walk through the desert on their way to an air-conditioned suite!

Got to “Fashionistas” tonight — front-row center seats, baybee!

I may create an iMix with all the music, if one doesn’t exist already. LOVED the tunage.

The show was fine. I don’t think it was worth sixty bucks. But then again, there were women in skimpy outfits doing airborne calisthenics right above my head (wrapped in a sheet — very nice) so I guess I got my money’s worth. The girl who sat next to me left for awhile, while one of the acrobatics experiences was taking place. Wuss. 😉

She seemed disgusted in general. Looked like she thought it was going to be something else entirely. We were given posters after the show and collectible programs (i.e., the song list with which I will be creating my next playlist) and she tossed EVERYTHING in the first available trash can.

I was tres underdressed for a fetish show. Perhaps the only person who left the hotel in khaki pants and an albeit-casual blazer. Of course, I got points for being the youngest in the audience — i.e., the one person who probably read the show description on teh Interweb — and I think I was the only one who was clapping with any feeling whatsoever.

They worked hard, the dancers. Although I do admit, for a supposedly sexual storyline, some of those chicks were as wooden as a freaking Pinocchio doll. And entirely too skinny — seriously, bones don’t turn me on, sweethearts, even when they’re covered in fishnets and leather garters!

I ended up at the Paris for the evening, at the top of the Eiffel Tower. Which was lovely, per usual. It’s been about two years since I’ve been up there, and I believe the last adventure was in the winter with someone who chatted a lot. I watched the fountains at the Bellagio dance, and well, it was a fantabulous night. Now it’s 2 a.m. Pacific and I’m afraid I’m going to sleep through my wake-up call. Oh well! 🙂