Nice to Meet You Anyway

Last week I was in Vegas for a baby shower. Yes, a baby shower. Now before you judge and think "ugh, how unclassy," the mother-to-be and her family actually live in Vegas. I like to tell everyone that my frequent trips down there (this one included) are nothing like the party-crazed experiences most have.

The truth is, that besides attending the shower at a country club for a few hours, and staying at a friend's house each night, my time in Vegas is just like everyone else's: complete and utter excess. Too much to drink, too much too eat, too much sun, too much money lost, and too many late nights.

Always the beginning of the end...

It's really not my fault. Nothing ever closes. How am I supposed to know when to call it a night when the ceilings are painted like daytime skies, there's never last call at the clubs, and the adult bevs are free at the gambling tables?

At any rate, I did actually survive an extended five day trip to Sin City, dragging my fabulously tired self to the airport on Sunday after a mere three hours of sleep, six hours of sun, and one very needed large cheeseburger.

I arrived at my gate headed to Sea-Tac shockingly early and sat down with my friend, Us Weekly. Bored within minutes of reading "They're Just Like Us,"I decided to walk around a bit. As I got up, I saw a vaguely familiar face. Not surprising as Seattle is a relatively small town. I placed the guy as a friend of Nick's from Gonzaga.

It had to be one of the many friends I've met through the years

I sheepishly smiled and did a little half wave.

No response.

My first thought was "...ugh rude. Just because we broke up doesn't mean Nick's friends can't have the decency to say hello."
Knowing that this ex of mine would be the last person to say anything bad about me (or really anything at all), I decided to persist and give him the benefit of the doubt that maybe he didn't remember me.

"Hey. How's it going?" I said to the friend.
"Um, fine" Friend looks away.

Ugh, really?
"Headed back to Seattle?"

"No," he simply said.

Ok, at this point I can take the hint. "Ok, well, erm, have a good flight," and I walked away.

So rude, right? Who does this friend think he is?

I blew off the whole experience just hoping we didn't end up sitting close to each other on the plane on the way home. I was then distracted by an oversold plane situation, which opened up a window to volunteer myself onto a later flight, and in turn get a future free flight out of the deal. Bingo! I love an excuse to go anywhere, especially when the ticket is on the house!

I put my name on the list and turned around to return to my seat and ran into the friend... again.

And then, it hit me. This was no friend of Nick's at all. He was an actor/ comedian and I knew him from my TV. We had become acquaintances through VH1's Best Week Ever and The League. Both shows I have watched from time to time. Awesome.

Meet Paul Scheer.

I also then noticed that the gate next to me was bound for Burbank.

No wonder this guy blew me off. I would have too. I felt like such an idiot. It's not that he's a big name, or anything. Just familiar enough to think that you know him.

I'd like to blame it on my lack of sleep or sun-baked brain. Maybe it was just another blonde moment. Whatever the reason, I'm going to have to pull my celeb savviness together before the month is over, as I'm headed to LA for ten days. At this rate, I'm going to act like I know the whole town.