Run drea run

See I did it, my five kilometre run, my next goal is the half-marathon watch out here I come.
Thanks to those that sponsored me we raised £250 for the cancer.
Also my fellow runners Georgia and Mel.
Jamie took a picture of my arse, in those running pants, can you believe it? I almost divorced him on the spot. I will not post it to save you the horror.




ps three blog posts in one day, can you tell I am home sober on a Friday night and Jamie is watching the football and I am bored, sober, tired and about to go to bed.

xxxx

the joy and the pain

Can’t believe I forget to tell you about the best bit of Vegas. The Wynn buffet, it was 2 hours of hard core eating madness the food was great and we ate and ate and ate until I could not walk I could only shuffle. They had a food section from around the world and a separate bakery and ice cream parlour and more. It was like eating a buffet in heaven.

And afterwards as I was shuffling hunched over around he shops people were looking at me and I just held my stomach and said meekly ‘I just had a buffet.’ They seemed to understand, they were Americans after all, the innovators of the buffet.
And then we went into the Chanel shop and they had stools to sit on but I could not bend let alone sit so I lowered myself onto the stool and sat there while Emily did her shopping and I occasionally groaned. Anyway here are some pictures of us post-buffet with unhappy stomachs and unhappy faces but happy food memories.

Photos documenting our stomachs of pain below.

Viva!

So this is the thing about Vegas, it smells. You know that smell when you come home from work and you have left your stinky sneakers in your bedroom and the sun has heated up the house and then you open the door and get assaulted by a smell. It smells exactly like that, just add in some old whiskey, stale popcorn and some vomit and you can smell Vegas anytime you like.

And the city has no idea of time, that’s the freakiest part everywhere is so fricken dark and seedy and then is always a drunk man starring at your boobs or trying to stare but unable to focus.

Only in Vegas can a man wear this hat, you guessed it he was drunk.

So we arrived after a plane trip from hell and then we showered and went and got a drink and I was id’ed. I wasn’t even flattered I was just pissed off so I sulked back the room ordered room service and slept while jamie went out and got drunk cheeky bugger.

And then we did other things liked hired a poolside cabana, did some serious work on our tans and powered walked down the strip at 8:00 in the morning, where there were more drunk men this time starring at our arses as well.

The birthday boy




The vegas gang by the pool.


Some classy ladies by the pool

And another thing with Vegas they have created a city in the desert and you don’t really get this until you arrive and you are like holy shit there is nothing here apart from bad taste architecture. They have tried to class it up with a fake Eiffel tower but really? A fake Eiffel tower? There is also a fake arc de triumph but you know it’s not the real thing, a) it’s tiny and b) it’s in the middle of a car park.

It Jamie in Paris or Vegas? Paris obviously as there are no rude Frenchies lurking about trying to ruin the picture.

And then there is the Venetian where they have bought Venice to las Vegas and if you have ever been to Venice you will walk in and think’ THIS IS NOTHING LIKE VENICE AT ALL!’ because primarily it’s not in Italy so everything is just weird and inside it’s daytime all the time which is just plain freaky, especially when you rock in at 11:00 at night and you are jetlagged and your husband just wants to sleep.

Me at night but in broad daylight, jamie could not get the camera to work in the strange light conditions hence why I am blurry and grumpy because he had tried to take this picture about 8 times. Also look how good my hair is!

So we went on a Gondola ride because when I went to the real Venice dad said it was too expensive but in Las Vegas it’s only $15 per person, that’s £7.50 of your English pounds, cheap as chips. We could have paid for a private gondola but Jamie was in a shitty mood so I would have preferred not to be alone with him truth be told.
So we hopped in with these other people from New York and had a romantic ride down the canals of las Vegas, which were about 30 centimetres deep. When he asked if anyone had been to Venice and I said yes the Americans loved it, they thought I was very well travelled and the gondola man panicked because he knew I could rumble him for authenticness, he looked relieved when I said my tight dad couldn’t afford to take us on a gondola ride.

That's Amore or not.

And just when you thought being pushed down a shallow body of water couldn’t get any better, he started to sing That’s Amore and he looked straight at me when he did it. I got embarrassed and looked away in shame, mine and his. And then he sung another song at this stage I was so embarrassed I was seriously considering throwing myself into the shallow water and swimming for my life. But I clung on there and looked up at the fake blue sky and tried to make myself have an out of body experience. And thank god it was over in about 10 minutes and I went and did some retail therapy to calm myself down.

The next day the other dudes went on a helicopter ride but we couldn’t afford it so we walked down the strip instead and just when you thought it couldn’t get any weirder you find yourself in front of the world’s biggest (and I’m going to guess tackiest) tequila bar. And everyone was drunk, I mean there were seven year olds into here who were so boozed they couldn’t walk, hell knows how they got served alcohol.
And then we walked some more until we ended up in a mall which was shit but air conditioned so we stayed for a while.

Then we went out for dinner for Jonathan’s birthday (which was the reason for the visit, did I mention that?) and tried to get into a club but couldn’t so I got pissed off and left looking for anther club to get into which I masterly got us straight to the front of the queue and into the door using my patterned attitude combo of ‘flirty but I am very important and don’t even think about messing with me’. Seriously I can pull a certain face and pretty much get into anywhere, probably even the white house on the right day. And then we danced and watched about 800 hen parties dance and then watched one girl get thrown out for dancing too dirty. It was great.

Next day got up and went for a walk again and then did a bit of shopping, then watched the fountains at the Bellagio’s at night which was great but couldn’t stop thinking about the effects of excessive water use on the environment. Then we went to the best bar ever. It was called caramel in The Bellagio and me, Jamie, Aaron and em got really really drunk off delicious cocktails, I think the boys had beer but I can’t remember and the high light of the night was a drunk bride coming in with her groom and bumping and grinding on the floor. It was funny. See pictorial evidence below. And the Dj played wicked music not that I can remember what it was and I tried to request a song using my ‘flirty but I am very important and don’t even think about messing with me’ attitude but it didn’t work, but in my defence she was a woman and not a lesbian and that is the Achilles heel in my attitude, it does not work on straight women. But later that night I used the exact same attitude to completely jump a massive queue and walk straight into another nightclub, which shows it wasn’t the attitude that was failing, the alcohol had impeded my ability to select the right target.

In the club with Aaron and Em after too many cocktails.



Andrea and the bride, Jesus she is young, the bridesmaid told us the wedding was crap.


Jamie and the bride getting down.
And then we woke up the next day feeling seedy and went home. And then got sick.

Can I just say this is a old school type pictorial blog post with pictures and everything, also it is massively long, what a treat! My RSI fingers are playing up though.