10 Things About Las Vegas

Hello again!  Sorry it's been so long since my last post.  Probably more upsetting to me than any of you, seeing as though I was doing so well at keeping my New Year's Resolution of posting regularly.  Irregardlessly (<-my favorite not real word of all time), I am here now, and have a fun list to catch you up to speed on things in my most recent life.

10 Things About Vegas

1. If you are close enough to your family to go on a vacation with them, do so in Vegas.  Having my brothers with me was the perfect company for this vacation.  They didn't judge me at 2am when my mascara was caked under my eyes, they kept a watchful eye across the dance floor while I danced with sweaty men, and most importantly they will protect you from psycho killers disguised as drinking buddies.

2. Speaking of dancing, Men: when a song calls for us to "get low" please don't "get low"-er than me.  First of all, I don't think its sexy, I think its a little gay, if anything.  And chances are I am wearing heels and trying hard enough to balance in the upright position.  I will get as low as possible, and you should stay a few inches above where ever that may be.  And be thankful that I'm only getting so low, the floors at these night clubs are disgusting.

3. A pennyslot machine jackpot is about 2000 credits.  Using basic math you'll find that only equates to $20.  But when you hit this anti-climactic jackpot the entire casino will light up like you just won a million.  This is embarrassing and unnecessary at 9:30am.  The only silver lining to this minimal win was blowing up the deathstar (again).  That's right.  The force is strong with this one, at least on Star Wars penny slots.

4. Teller talks.  I'm sure I am not the only one that assumed Teller, of Penn and Teller fame, kept his mouth shut always.  Turns out that's just during performances.  We met the magical duo after their stage show at the Rio on Saturday night.  Both men were very sweet, and stuck around for just about everyone who wanted an autograph or a picture taken.  I got all girly when I met Penn, because I have always found him sexy in an odd large man kind of way.  Maybe its just because he's really articulate politically, and that's always been a turn on for me.  Teller, though, he's the real ladies man.  And had no objection to me giving him a little kiss after the show.

5. I am going to be a Pussycat Doll when I grow up.  I don't even need to be one of the really hot ones that are in the singing group, I just want to be one of the "hot enough to be in a cage" ones.  Sean and Zach were legitimately playing blackjack at the Pussycat Dolls casino area, and I was legitimately checking out the dancers for a good 30 minutes. 

6. If you are going to go to a nightclub in Vegas, find someone to go with that has enough money to get a VIP table and bottle service.  You don't have to fight your way to and from the bar every time you need a drink, a big bouncer is personally watching your purse while you dance so it's not weighing down your sexy dancing arms, and you look really cool walking past a line of 300 people waiting to pay a $50 cover to get in. 

7. The only way to make a hangover headache go away after the first initial night of partying is a yard stick of booze.  I wouldn't recommended drinking one of these alone, it took Sean, Zach and myself a good amount of time to tear through it, but at the end I was headache free.  As a side note, try to avert your eyes from the bartender when he is mixing said yardstick drink.  He is going to use a disgusting about of liquor that should probably not be mixed together in the first place.  Just wait till he blows his whistle, simulates oral sex with you, and drink up.

8. If you aren't too drunk to pay attention to the awful house music constantly blaring through the nightclubs, listen closing for the funny things the djs sample music with.  For instance, Sean and I found a great jam that repeated the words "Barbara Streisand" over and over again.  It wasn't a Barbara song, nor was it even her saying her own name, it was just so guy with a deep voice saying it to the beat of the music.  So catchy, and super entertaining. Skeet skeet skeet.

9. Photobombers.  Bomb or be bombed.  We decided early in the trip to photobomb as many people as possible.  If you are unfamiliar with this concept it is quite simply posing in the background of a picture being taken by a complete stranger.  I believe we were successful in ruining many tourists pictures, and I hope someone finds us lurking in the background of a facebook picture in the near future.  I will warn anyone that may find such a gem, the photobomb isn't meant to capture the most attractive face.  The point is to not only be in their picture, but ruin it by making a God awful face.

10. I love my brothers.  I've had a rough year past year not only finding my place in the world, but even in my own family sometimes.  This trip was such a great reminder of how much love we all have.  I have spent the past few years gloating about how similar us Keller kids all are.  I learned quite the opposite on this trip.  Zach, Sean and myself are such different people.  We are all on very different paths, and find happiness in very different things.  But at the end of this trip, when we all said goodbye, I felt a new found sense of closeness with them.  No matter what makes us tick individually, no 2 other people could have made me laugh so hard and so genuinely for 3 days straight.  I hope and pray this year was just the first of many many Keller Kid adventures in my life.  And not too long before the littlest can join us.

To check out the awesome pictures from this vacation go here:
Keller Kids Do Vegas (Like a Boss)

And until next time...

Moses Supposes And A Moody Tuesday

Tomorrow is going to be an odd day.  Outside of the fact that it is 1-1-11 (which I don’t find all that interesting anyways), it is the one year anniversary of my God Father passing away.  I don’t know what shocks me more, the fact that there is still no resolve regarding the circumstances of how he passed, or the fact that it’s already been a whole year.

When I found out that he had died, I was on my way to Tapas with Courtney.  My mother had called me to give me the news, before I saw it on TV or read it in the papers.  I can’t explain my reaction to finding out – I hadn’t seen or talked to my God Father in years, since I was 8 or 9 years old.  I immediately felt guilty that I wasn’t more upset.  I wanted to be really heartbroken, but I didn’t know the guy.  And he definitely didn’t know me.  I got off the phone with my mom, and continued on with my evening of sangria and small Mexican appetizers.

A few days later I sat myself down at a computer and forced myself to read some of the articles about what had happened.  I got angry before I got sad.  I got defensive before I even took the time to get to know the man he had become.  People had such horrible things to say about what was right and wrong, and whether or not he “deserved” what had happened to him.  I wanted to preserve the few good memories that I had of him, but it was frustrating holding on to so little when so many people had so much to say.

The funeral was the first time I was meeting his son, and the first time in a long while I would be seeing his wife and brother (neither of which I actually remembered).  I held myself together pretty well on the way there.  I was way more distracted by how much I hate funeral homes (the smell has always bothered me, and praying at an open casket when you don’t normally pray or necessarily believe in God is very forced and uncomfortable).  I felt myself start to crack when his wife first saw me and my parents walk in.  She lit up when she saw my mom, and it was then it became real to me that this man had, at one time, a very close relationship with my family.  He was my father’s best friend for a while, and apparently my mother coached his wife through her pregnancy.

I didn’t know these things.  I knew he was my God Father, and I have one very cute picture of me sitting on his lap at my first birthday.  But I had heard more about why he wasn’t in my life in the years I remember than I what I knew of the kind of person he was when my parents appointed him my “God Father”.  He was a band director (which is quite fitting to where I’ve ended up in life), and he touched so many students with his passion for music.  He was, before he had gotten sick, a dedicated father, husband and friend.  But I just knew him as the guy who had gotten sick, and it was better to have him out of my life than in it.

I’m thankful that I went to the funeral.  And it opened my parents, my dad especially, up about talking about the person he was when he came into their lives.  Flash forward 6 months later, and I had a great conversation with my boss who knew my God Father very well.  He had such warm things to say about the band director he was, and how motivated he was to get band programs in any school he could get himself into.  Such a small world that I would end up working for a man who used to go jogging with Danny.

So it’s been a year.  And I think about him all the time.  I wish he could meet me now, see the person I have become.  I think he would understand better than anyone else the demons one deals with everyday on the inside, while trying to keep face on the outside.  He was a broken man that never had the chance to get his life back together.  Maybe he never would have, maybe he was a lost soul and forever would be.  I like to think that with more time, and enough love, he could have gotten back some semblance of a family and closeness before he went.  At least be around long enough for me to know who he was first hand, not through stories that came way too late for me.

And if that wasn’t heavy enough, tomorrow also marks the 4 year anniversary of meeting my most important ex boyfriend.  You know, the one who “got away”.  Or I got away from.  Either way you spin it, it was a very important relationship for me to have.  And I can’t help but get nostalgic about how great it was in the beginning.  4 years ago tomorrow I got kissed in a way that I will never forget.  He made my knees weak, and my heart race.  I remember driving home from his house that night feeling like I was going to pass out and vomit all at the same time, because everything felt so intense.  Much like that night, our whole relationship was intense.  From start to finish, rinse and repeat for 2 and a half years.

It’s a new year.  And Danny will continue to force me to ask myself a million questions I’ll never have answers to.  So will Andy for that matter.  But both men, respectively, have changed me for the better. 

I’m proud to work in the field that I do.  I know Danny is looking down on me and smiling that I am helping kids fall in love with music the same way he sought out for them to do many years ago.  And I’m proud that I can look back at my relationship with Andy and smile about all the great memories we have together.  January 11^th will always be a strange day for me, so tomorrow instead of sulking I’ll be celebrating.  Celebrating a man I wish I could’ve known, and my own personal Hank Moody.  Cheers.

Boys Like That Should Come With a Warning.

I have spent a lot of time lately reflecting on past relationships.  I was discussing a more recent relationship with a friend the other day and they told me this particular person should "come with a warning".  And though I have heard that line in lyrics and movies before, it never made more sense to me than it does now.

I wouldn't be the person I am if I hadn't gone through the relationships that I have, for better or for worse.  But imagine the heartache that could have been spared if some basic personality traits were known before jumping in.  Most recently there was a string of men with very specific red flags (at least for me personally) that I couldn't have possibly discovered until getting too close to get out scratch free.

Exhibit A.

This guy is so inciting from the outside.  He's clever, and charming.  His laugh fills the room, and there is a confidence oozing out of him.  You want to know him before you even learn his name.  Then you strike up a conversation with him, and he is engaged.  He makes you feel like this particular conversation is the most colorful and passion provoking one of his life.  You start to let your guard down quicker than ever, because he is so different than the jerks you have been with before.  Then once you are close enough to want it, truly want it, he informs you that he isn't "looking for a relationship", that he's "not ready". 

This guy is as ready as he is going to be, he just doesn't want to be with you.  But it's too late, you're hooked, and you are only that much more convinced that you could be the thing that makes him "ready". 

I have been so confused about relationships for so long that I didn't even think I was ready until I heard that he wasn't.  And then it didn't matter if I was or not, I was just concerned with his lack of "readiness" for me.  Only a few short months later, as I write this, he is in a relationship.  Who knows if he is really into her, or if this is just another degree of his lust for validation, but I am happy that he didn't take it that far with me.  At the time, it hurt like hell.  Retrospectively, I'm glad I dodged that bullet.

Exhibit B.

You don't have to pursue this guy, he is going to pursue you.  He is going to come on strong (too strong, but this goes unnoticed for a while).  At the exact moment you are feeling a little down about life: you're too fat, you aren't smart, you're going to die alone, this guy is there to tell you how beautiful you are.  That you are the smartest girl he's ever known.  And even when he show's up at your house unannounced with roses, calls and texts you an uncomfortable amount of times, and says he misses you after your first date; you decide he's just very vocal about his emotions and not all that creepy.

Next thing you know, you are having a casual night out with friends and getting harassed about where you are, who you are with, and when you will be home.  Dude.  We went out twice.  I don't even know if I like you, or the fact that you like me.  This guy didn't cause as much heartache as he did headache.  These leaches are hard to shake, and you walk away from the situation wishing you knew he was a nut job.  I'd rather accept I am dying alone than have to find a boiling bunny in the kitchen.

This list goes on.  There are so many bad guys out there.  And I guess the same is to be said for woman.  I sure as hell should come with a warning : This girl is too loud, too crass, too much. She is going to pull you in fast and push you away quick shortly there after. 

I'm starting to realize that it's only after you start pin pointing the bad, that you can truly recognize the good.  The men in my past have been colorful, to say the least.  But after every bad, really bad, situation, I am starting to have a quicker response time to the red flags. I am becoming more aware of what it is I will never ever date again.  And it is narrowing down, by default, the things that I AM looking for.

So we don't have warnings, and we have to start crossing things off the list one heartbreak at a time.  But at the end of the day, I think once the list is down to one - it's going to be worth all the trouble. 

Productivity

Maybe I have served tables for so long that I am just now realizing what corporate America has struggled with for years, but I find it next to impossible to be 100% productive on the clock.  I work at a computer all day.  I am looking at contracts, designing materials, and explaining to people to what the word “equity” means.  In the midst of all of this, I am constantly minimizing my Aimsi screen to check for a little red box on the top left corner of my facebook page.  Or refreshing The Frisky every ten minutes desperately hoping to find a new article posted to distract me from what I am doing for another 4 minutes.

I have gotten better about this.  It was a bit of a shock from the first few months of working here when I was never alone in the office to now where I have more responsibility, and in turn more freedom.  I can basically do whatever I would like for the 11 hours I am here and no one will really question it. 

I have always been a hard worker, and that hasn’t changed.  I get everything I need to get done done, and then some.  I have been creating my own job description here since being hired as a part time CSR 6 months ago.  Seth Godin once said that your job can either be a platform or a set of tasks.  I have very clearly made my job a platform in the time I have been here, and I am proud of the where I stand with this company today.  Is this the rational I use when looking through every picture from Mateo Camargo’s most recent trip to South America?  You’re damn right it is.

With all this being said, will someone please create a facebook home page that looks more like spread sheet?  I see these sorts of things being created for fantasy football leagues, and it makes me jealous.  Maybe The Frisky needs to have an option to turn off their hot pink web design, and look a little more like Hal Leonard Print Publications website.  Maybe we all just need to be a little more considerate of my lack of productivity.

With that being said, I’ve only got 1 hour and 14 minutes left of work.  Godspeed.

1.1.11

Song : Comes and Goes - Greg Laswell

I used to be a writer.  I used to write very interesting things.

It's been another year, and though some people close to me don't think much has changed, there is someone new moving their fingers across the keyboard this time.  I used to be a writer.  I used to blog all the time, and people would read the things I wrote.  I used to write very interesting things.  Now I don't have much time for writing, or reading for that matter.  And I miss calling myself a writer.  I miss the support of my writer friends.  I am learning right now that I don't miss how hard I critique my own writing, but I think I miss this feeling of talking to you without you being able to interrupt me.


It's New Years Day, 2011!  How about that?  I rang in the New Year at Chelios' in Aurora.  With Chris Chelios (who is gorgeous by the way), and Curtis.  I love the fact that I can walk into a bar knowing one person and end up leading the conga line around the bar at 1 in the morning.  I needed last night to be exactly what it was.  The energy was great, the people were happy and full of love.  The cougars were out, the frat boys were out and I happily danced around their NYEs kissing cheeks and sloshing red wine around.

"I wish I could wear a dress like that."
"Yeah you do."

I am going to keep this post short because I want to be more inspired than I feel right now.  I'm done with criticism this year.  I'm going to let my heart be full, my head be challenged, and my thoughts be heard.  I am going to be exactly who I want to be this year.  And you are gonna get to hear all about it.