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.

One is the Loneliest Number... Or is it?

As much as I'm hesitant to get too  personal here on Trim,  it occurred to me, that as this blog can tend to be a running commentary of my life, upcoming posts might be a tad confusing without addressing head on a certain elephant that's recently come into my room.  Without going into too much detail, I regret to announce that Nick and I have broken up.
Is it sad? Yes. Scary to be single? Absolutely. But this was something that will be for the best for us both.

Questions you might be thinking to ask:

Who gets Gatsby?

Duh, me.

Are you moving?
Yes, but not too far away. Gatsby and I are currently on the hunt for a quaint home with a yard and space for him to run around (see prior post)

Are you and Nick still friends?
Yes, this was an amicable decision, and neither of us holds any hard feelings toward the other. In fact, we've been getting along swimmingly.

Do you need a place to stay? Or someone to talk to?
No and Yes. I have just a couple (busy) weeks before leaving for Europe, and will continue to live at the apartment until then. Perhaps I'll rename my upcoming trip Eat, Pray, Shop. 
Yes, I would love to talk, but mostly because it would be a reason to get together with beloved friends. Feel free to clear your schedules :)

To avoid ending things on a somber note, I thought it would be appropriate to come up with a list of things that are better in  "single" or small doses:

• Movies. Admit it, the sequel is never as good
• Working out. I have yet to be able to fit two into one day.
• Oysters
• Coffee. The smaller the serving, the better the flavor.
• Ashton Kutcher
• Traffic, the less the better
• Snowy days
• Martinis

All I Need to Know About Dating, I Learned from a Nine Year Old

Why didn't I think to listen to a fourth grader before?

True to Hollywood form, this undiscovered relationship guru wrote a book for his school fair at $3 a pop. Of course Ellen DeGeneres featured him on her show and the rest is history. A book deal from Harper Collins (turned NY Times Best Seller) and movie option from 20th Century Fox have been arranged.

Key advice includes

"give gifts," "control your hyperness," and "don't wear sweatpants."

Also:

"Sometimes, you get a girl to like you, then she ditches you. Life is hard, move on! Or sometimes it just doesn't work out. I had a crush on a girl in preschool. Then my family had to move, so I had to let her wash out of my mind."

Sometimes parents just don't understand

La Vie Bohème

After one full day back to the real world, my mind continues to wander back to the past week. I seem to be experiencing a bit of a culture shock in New Mexico. Where are all the people? And buildings?

If I could adopt the life of freedom in the city, I would most certainly lunch daily in Washington park where I came to know my very own relationship guru. For the sake of this post, I'll call him Dr. Love, a 40-something homeless man who's been around the block a time or two.

His patients are all unassuming men, usually trapped into answering one question, which at the time seemed relatively innocent. Dr. Love will quickly psycho-analyze said gent and waste no time delving into his prognosis and therapy (which is delivered with a side dosage of guitar strumming during awkward pauses).

My favorite lunchtime session was with a Russian born, unhappily married man. I sat down right as Dr. Love was beginning to explain how women were delicate flowers. It seems the Russian had been married for about four years, separated, and interested in a new collection of petals. Dr. Love responded with the harsh reality that the new mistress will be no different from his wife and in time is bound to become heavier and uglier than the day he was first attracted to her. Instead, his suggestion was "make your wife your girlfriend". Since women only crave security and attention, things had probably gone sour with the wife when less consideration had been paid. When's the last time they had a candle lit dinner?

If making things better with lady number one still didn't appeal, Dr. Love also reminded his patient that if he chooses to divorce, "your woman will take half of everything you got. Got no money? She'll find a way to take half of something else." (insert guitar plucking here) Once again, the Russian was informed that any future lady would probably do the same in time. I guess it all came down to simple economics.

Dr. Love also seems to have little trust in women's motives. Though we are but simple buds, we females have a sneaky way of sticking men with thorns. I've wondered since this session in the park if Dr. Love ever gives advice to the "more delicate sex" and if so what it would be. My guess is something along the lines of pleasing your man, making him feel powerful, not to be a gold digger, stop toying with men's minds, etc.

If I ever have the chance, I might just take the bait and see for myself. I have no idea when I'll be back in NY, but I'm willing to bet, Dr. Love will still be in the park singing songs and giving advice.

Catch Up

I have once again neglected my duties as a devoted blogger sharing too much of my personal life with the world. Here is a quick recap to catch everyone up:

• Have not slept more than one night in a row in my own bed since early June :(
  
  
• Spent 4th of July in Austin where I was forced to spend the majority of the weekend watching Harry Potter movies, taking cold showers (don't ask) and unfortunately not wearing this prize of a sweater



• My camera seems to have broken. This is devastating on two levels. One, I refuse to leave home without it... you just NEVER know when a good Kodak moment might pop up. And two, I leave for New York a week from today, Yikes! I better figure something out
  
  
• Did I mention I'll be in NY in a WEEK!?!?! Yippee!!!
  


• My stimulus check came in the mail. Thanks Prez Bush and congress for putting our country even farther into debt. What a great example you continue to lead. I intend to put my check in savings where it will SIT and not be spent. Mostly likely, the money will be returned back to you come tax season.



• My boyfriend seems to have adopted the habit of blaming his flatulence on invisible barking spiders. I find this both repulsive and hilarious (and as I mentioned earlier, yes, I tend to over share on my blog, deal with it)
  
  
• Last, I received my diploma from FIDM, sealing the deal that I have actually graduated. I'd post a picture, but that seems to be out of the question at the moment.

It's Not Easy Being Cheesy

This is the first somewhat "guest" posting from Mr. Nick Byrd... i.e. he proposed the idea and told me I should blog about it (I'll take what I can get)

Yet another reason why cheese is so amazing. These people are literally willing to throw themselves down a hill for it. Now THAT'S love! Sorry Nick, I'm not sure I can claim I would do the same for you ;)

The pink pig is my favorite.

This might actually beat out Bay to Breakers as the coolest thing to attend, ever.

Side Note

I happen to catch The Bachelor last night for the first time this season (TV on the road closely resembles the good times in LA with some bunny ears and foil).
Although my interest in the show wore off a long time ago, last night was the season finale, and therefore caught my attention. This season’s bachelor is from London which means the quasi-polygamous show has some built in charm (at least enough to watch one episode).
Taking a cue from the bachelor himself, I’ve decided that boyfriend of mine deserves to be called cuter nicknames (my current choice has been “Sugar Bugger” mostly because he HATES it). On deck for trial are “Dahhling” (so sophisticated) “Plumpkin", and “Monkey”.