Man, am I smart. First, I put myself on this unprocessed food regiment, and whoa, I'm feeling super fly, in mood and just general, all-around flyness. Secondly, I elbowed my way into having some fun last weekend and that was a wise, wise decision. Thanks to Husband too for his surprise attack of romanticism and caretaking. Believe me, he got all kinds of hook ups for that stunt. I dug up and dusted off and packed a fire red corset that I haven't worn in years. I thought about bringing a fun adult accessory for laughs, but the thought of getting my bag searched at the airport sorta mortified me. I feel fly, not invincible. One time my friend and her girlfriend went to Hawaii with a toy . . .let's just say it was double headed and rhythms with big-ass bildo. On the way back home, when the bag went through the scanner, the customs people started a murmur that had to do with sugar cane. "Excuse ma'am, you know it's illegal to bring sugar cane back from Hawaii? We'll need to search your bag." They were like, "UHH, IT'S NOT SUGAR CANE, BELIEVE US." After another careful look in the scanner, they sent them on their way with winks and giggles.
Husband's tennis team is so fun, and each of them pulled me aside and said they were so glad I was there, and everything was so much more fun because I was there. Yah! They were pumped to have a great time on Saturday night too even though they had to be back on the courts at 7:30 the next morning to, you know, play in the nationals like they had worked so hard for.
We hung out in a suite, had some drinks, laughed a lot, then took our party to the streets. A big mixed martial arts fight was happening that night so we all counted the number of TapOut and Affliction tshirts adorned with elaborate crosses in iron-on foil. There were too many to count. We tried to guess the circumference of men's necks. But I told everyone to keep it down, because these dudes were strutting the casinos high on testosterone. I was worried that seeing the professional fight would inspire a hair-trigger rage. "We are non-violent people!" I told the tennis crew. They nodded and whispered. While waiting for our dinner rezzies at Nobu, a yummy, fancy "asian-fusion" restaurant, I played blackjack for 20 minutes and won $100!
Here's Papi and me, waiting to eat. Couple things: Isn't my hair shiny!? Dudes, I know what Mina's talking about now. When you get a great picture of yourself, you gotta tell somebody. I don't know if I really look like this, but I'll take it! Also, when I get dressed up and wear anything that remotely pushes up my boobs, they look humongous. Seriously, they didn't look this big in the mirror when I dressed. I look at the pictures of the night and I'm like, goddamn in an embarrassed sort of way. It's a little much, if you ask me -- you might already know about my cleavage shyness -- but it was Vegas so boobs away.Rochelle, Page and I waiting for dinner, still sober. Then we got to drinking sake, and it was all good. Page took this unscripted photo of Papi, which came out unintentionally and hilariously coy, as you can see.Then Page made us all pose for our modeling head shot. Here's her most excellent portrait.Here's Ron's, the team's oldest player. 25 years ago, he was the face of the Valentino print ads. No lie. He wishes he hadn't told us that because we brought it up a thousand times.Here's mine with my boobs pelted with edamame. Since I never really show them off in my real life, they couldn't stop talking about them either, or throwing things at them. Here we are up in the club. By this point, Husband left to go sleep for the next day's match because he's sensible like that. We carried on for him.The drunker Clint got, the more his face looked like a chipmunk.How YOU doin'? Time to go home, it looks like. What about tennis you may ask. Our team went to Vegas representing Southern California in 10.0 mixed doubles. This is one level below players just getting off the tour or college players that hold the one or two spot at a divsion one school. Our team is good and this level of play is exciting and competitive. One of the women on our team -- but not in our party crew -- is from France and went four rounds at Wimbleton in her day. She won the Italian Open in singles for god's sake! Page was a top player at Stanford. She's no joke and is one of the best on our team. The best part about mixed doubles is that if you haven't played a team before, you can't guess who the weaker of the two players are. It's stupid to assume the woman is weaker because then a ball is roaring back in your ass after a weak shot is hit to her. Most every woman on the other team on Sunday morning was the power house player. They were treeing off monster forehands and picking off volleys at their shoeslaces in miraculous plays. It was fun to watch Page and her female opponent try to out muscle each other. Husband and his partner won easily, but our other two teams lost in final set tiebreaker/hearbreakers. Here are some tennis pic's.
Husband and Clint waiting for first round matches on Saturday morning, before I came out.
Husband warming up on Saturday. He's hot.Papi serving it up on Sunday. More hotness.
After his win. Yay, team! Anyway, though the food changes have been monumental, the fun prescription was really just as important. Because fun is fun, y'all!
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