Leap of Faith

This was just the beginning

It's Leap Day. I took the day off. Not because it's Leap Day but because I'm a little hung over. Last night was TWR (Tuesday's With Rodney). It started out a normal night @ Fiamma. We ordered a ridiculous amount of sushi and had it brought over from Shibuya. Yeah, kinda prima donna-ish but sometimes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. It was it's me, Big Rod, Trubes, Sumo & Rodney's friend Patrick. Patrick is absolutely adorable. Cute as hell. Tall, blond, looks great in a suit. Totally kissable. Just not the one for me.

So we finish up dinner and who pops in? Tequila-guy. I haven't seen him in a month @ the bosses holiday party. Jesus Christ he's hot. Every time I see him I never get over that. Never. He's tall, sexy, great hair, strong hands, successful, midwest boy, educated, great dresser, well traveled, polite, social - the perfect man, on paper. Well, aside from the fact he's kind of a male slut but when you look like that & have his credentials there's no shortage of women throwing themselves at you. I try not to count myself as one of them but in the end, I probably fall into that category. Much like everyone, I compartmentalize the boys in my life. There are ones I love as friends, one I am in love with and am trying to get over, ones I hook up with, ones I work with, ones I casually date. Tequila-guy needs to stay in his compartment. I can't handle him moving into another one just yet. We haven't hooked up since December and I think our time together has passed & that's ok. I'm good with that. He was fun while he lasted. But good Lord, why does he have to get better looking each time I see him. 

Tequila-guy and his buddy chat with some of our other pals who showed up at the end of the bar while Rod, Patrick and I start to have a conversation about sex, men, women & relationships. I love nights like this where I get to hear real, unfiltered guy-speak. It's so comforting to me when I know they're just as fucked up as we are. I know it's not a revelation but it's nice to have that notion reinforced. 

Night ended before I said anything girl-stupid (thankfully) and this morning I felt a little rough. I could have made it in today but what the hell. Leap Day only comes along once every 4 years - I'm taking advantage of it. Kinda wish I'd woken up @ Tequila-guy's place though. Yeah, I guess I'm not good with not hooking up with him lately. Probably doesn't help that he was the best sex I've ever had in my life either. Like, life changing. And for that I say, "Thank You Tequila-guy. Thank you." Today I might have to take a Leap of Faith and reopen this compartment...

Let Him Go

I took the day off today. No particular reason other than I just wanted an extra day to do a little spring cleaning. The chore I hate the most is replacing my air filter. It's a simple task but some genius from DR Horton homebuilders decided to put mine in the angle of the 14' ceiling just above my stairs. So I have to drag out my big-ass aluminum ladder from the garage just to change the filter. I usually buy the 3-month filters so I can partake in this process as little as possible. I had a couple of D-cell batteries in my supply closet so while I had the metal monstrosity up, I changed a couple of fire detectors too. 

Yeah, exciting stuff. I bring it up because it's one of those few things I really wish I had a man in my life who would handle it. Not because it's particularly hard but because it's one of those traditionally 'manly' things. I'm incredibly happy and proud of the independent person my parents raised me to be but I admit, deep down, or not so deep down, I want a man here to lean on, to be there for me, to hang on to. Yeah, in the end I'm just like every other dumb, straight girl who needs a man in her life. Surprise, surprise. Apparently I'm human. 

I went to church on Sunday. It was the first time since I'd officially joined 2 weeks ago. The Sunday prior Dr. Harper announced all the new members but I had Lenny Kravitz and KMA Ali 70 the night before so I knew I would never make it. I didn't really want to be there. Standing up in front of the congregation isn't my cup of tea. Just let me worship in anonymity. I'll get up in front of 12,000 people and give an impromptu speech but when it comes to my relationship with God, just leave me be. I've got it. 

I didn't see Counselor at church this week. I used to be able to feel when he was around. Actually, I used to be able to feel when he was about to show up. I can't explain it. I always knew when he was about to call or pop in to the arena or text me. My friend Mike used to try and convince me it was a gift I had - that we all had, because Counselor and I were so connected, that the world was just that connected, that we were all that connected. I bought it at the time but I think now I may have just been playing the odds. When you think about someone more than you think about yourself you're bound to hit a couple of times. 

I can't feel that anymore. Maybe that's God's way of telling me I'm ready to Let Him Go. 

Enough

Had a great dinner tonight with Rodney, Mindy and Rodney's friends Gary & Henry @ StripSteak. No surprise. They're a great groups of people. Laughed a lot. But the interesting part of the night was a text I received around 8ish. It was Motorcycle-guy. I hadn't heard from him in a couple weeks so I was pretty shocked. We met up at his Happy Place - The Office Bar. I walk in and there are a couple guys there too. I had met a couple of them before but hardly remembered. Motorcycle-guy had on a tee shirt & jeans. He looked comfortably cute. Kind of anti-Tequila-guy-looking but in a good way.

We have a couple of beers and he asks if I want to go grab some sushi with his buddy. I just ate @ Stripsteak an hour before but he says, "Awww, come on." What the hell, why not. I'd seen him about a month prior. That night text me asking what I was up to. I told him I was @ Seablue and he should come join me for a drink. Much to my surprise, he did. And he showed up in a suit jacket & jeans. He looked guuud. We had a couple drinks and he asked if I wanted to go back to his place because his pal in town (who I know too) was waiting there for him to make him dinner. It wasn't as strange a request as it sounds. It happened much more fluidly than I'm making it sound. We go back to his place and he starts whipping up dinner, like with side dishes and stuff. I just sit there and am amazed (and let's face it, completely turned on) by watching this man whip up ahi tuna (I think), some ricey-looking stuff that wasn't rice, some vegis and something else I can't remember. While he's playing Martha Stewart another pal shows up and he starts making some drink concoction. Jesus, who are these guys? This wasn't just a martini or a mojito. His pal was like squeezing fruit and measuring crap. I don't know but... it was delish.

Anyhow back to present-day. We hop into his swanky SUV and head to Tokyo Japanese off Sahara near Lotus of Siam. Apparently this restaurant is his version of Seablue because the owners knew him when we walked in. I liked that. We order and Motorcycle-guy asks me if I want to try Amaebi - live shrimp. Yep, the little (actually huge) fella was live and looking at me. "I'll try anything once or twice," I flirt. Actually it's true. Motorcycle-guy goes first, shows me how it's done. You basically grab the tail with one hand careful to not let the stinger get you and the head with the other. Then bite down on the body, the same portion you'd normally eat. It wasn't bad. Oddly it tasted like it does when it's cooked. The chef said they kind of starve the prawns so there's no poop in the vein. It also makes them less active so they're not moving around on the plate. Yeah, that's just fine with me. The only thing that creeped me out was when the shrimp's eye turned and looked at me. That was gross. And I think it was more disturbing that the eyes move independently of each other than anything. 

So we finish up some sushi and the chef's wife starts chatting with us. Thru some subtle conversation I find out Motorcycle-guy is a player. She mentioned something about how be brings in his many girlfriends. No this was not a lost in translation situation. He sheepishly admitted he's brought a girl or 2 there. "Well, I'm not one of them," I tell her. Not sure why I said that. Defense mechanism I suppose. Odd because I like this guy, actively pursued him & want to casually date him. But I can already sense I'm in the friend zone with Motorcycle-guy. I have no idea why he continues to text me. He's got plenty of money, he doesn't need my dining/drinking perks, he has his own hookups for tickets because of the business he's in. Ugh. So frustrating. I was pretty quiet on the ride home as he took me back to my car. As my dad says: Shit or get off the pot. Either date me or stop contacting me. I'm not interested in any more guy friends. I have enough. Enough. 

02.19.12 Lenny Kravitz @ MGM Grand Garden Arena - Las Vegas, NV

Lenny Kravitz is mesmerizing

Lenny Kravitz show tonight. Once again I only caught a couple of songs - but Jesus does this man have charisma. I'm not a fan of tattoos, nose rings, leather jackets, guitars or tough men but wow, Kravitz has something that just makes you adore him. 

The day started out late for me. Because of KMA/Ali 70 the night before I was in no hurry to get back to the arena. Luckily my man Dave was there to pick up the slack. He's one of my supervisors. Without him I'd lose my mind. He babysits the early shift so I can sleep in. I thank God for him every day we have a show. 

I got in around 2ish I think. Things were quiet. I was thankful for a small show after the night before. Quel nightmare. Lenny's production team was awesome to work with. Love tours like that. No major egos, just pure teamwork and a let's-get-it-done attitude.

The only major drama revolved not around the show but autographed guitars and meet & greets. Yeah, really important stuff. Autographs and m&gs are the bane of my existence. Spoiled people meeting people they probably don't really give a shit about otherwise. Real fans hardly ever get access like rich people. That's life. It isn't fair. The only 2 artists I can think of that actually do m&gs with true fans are Lady Gaga and (yeah, you guessed it) Chris Botti. 

What is all the fuss about?

So all day 6 v-shaped guitars were sitting in my colleague Jay's office. He was tasked with getting them signed from our executives so he dumped the pain onto me. He's a good guy and I had a good relationship with the tour manager because of the m&g crap so I said I'd do it. After speaking with the tour manager he says, "No prob. Just put the guitars in Lenny's dressing room and I'll get them signed." Excellent. Check that off the list. Then I check my CrackBerry and the executives are asking that 2 of the guitars be personalized, not only with a name but with certain wording. Are you fucking kidding me? It's not enough you rich bastards are getting a free, personalized signed guitar but you want something specific written on it? Things like that make me realize I work in fantasyland - a place where people with real problems and real life strife don't exist. I'm seriously embarrassed to ask the tour manager for Lenny to do this. He just kind of smirked and told me to write a note and stick it on the guitars. "If he does it, he does it." Yeah, and I'm Lucy Liu. But I do my due diligence and write a note next to both guitars. 

Onto the next drama - the m&gs. One was planned. Completely. It was a group of radio winners from a local station coordinated thru the tour. It happened after the sound check around 5.30ish. The one that I was coordinating wasn't even on the tour manager's radar. I was the one who broke that news to him. Luckily we had already established a good rapport or he'd be like, "Who the fuck are you and why should I give a fuck about your m&g." Turns out he was on a couple of emails from our execs so all was well in the land of Oz. The casino m&g was to take place @ 8.45ish. Well, 8.30p rolls around and I head down the dressing room hallway to find the tour manager. He wasn't even on site which meant Lenny wasn't on site yet. Not good. Not good at all. Around 8.40p Kravitz arrives avec tour manager extraordinaire. Thank you Baby Jesus. I ask him if he's all set and he breaks the bad news to me. Since his guy (Lenny) was running late he wants to do the m&g after the show. 

Let Love Rule on the b-stage

Aw FUCK. Deja vu Bocelli. I went thru this once with Bocelli. His management agreed to do a m&g with our casino before the show. Bocelli wasn't feeling well so he asked to do it after the show. So I'm the ass who has to break the news to the casino guests, the ones we all suck up to and bust our asses for because they spend shitloads of money and make the world go 'round. They took it well. After the show, Bocelli decided to hop in his vehicle and do a "runner." That means they go directly from the stage into their car and leave the venue. No Shower, no changes, just outa there. So I had to go back to these guests and tell them that Bocelli had left the building and there would be no m&g.

Anyhow, back to Lenny. So I looked at the tour manager and said, "He's gonna do this after the show, right?" like a child begging for a piece of gum. "He will be there," he says with complete confidence. 

Last carrot cake.
Chef Jacque is leaving. I'm heartbroken!

Show was awesome - so I'm told. Truthfully, once I found out this m&g was going to be after the show I headed up to Seablue for dinner. After this weekend I'm ready to sit and relax a bit. As always Seablue does not disappoint. After about and hour I head back down to see a couple songs and make sure the m&g happens. I catch Let Love Rule where Lenny goes from the stage, thru the audience to the b-stage by the mix and back to the stage again. God, he's so sexy. 

Lenny finishes his set and I head to the dressing room looking for my man. After about 10 minutes, I see my man with 2 signed guitars in hand. Thank you baby! I call Jay on my Nextel and tell him to get his ass down to Lenny's dressing room - I've got the guitars. Check that off the list. Then the tour manager tells me to get the people lined up and ready to roll. Meet & greet is on. We stage the 25 peeps at the end of the dressing room hallway. Eventually they all get their pic taken with Lenny and all go home happy. 

Another night bites the dust. Oh, and incidentally, Lenny did kinda personalize the guitars. He didn't write the specific notes the people wanted but he did write their names on the side of the guitar. 1 outa 2 ain't bad. Ain't bad at all.

Set list
Come On Get It
American Woman
Always On The Run
It Ain't Over Til It's Over
Mr. Cab Driver
Black & White America
Fields of Joy
Stand by My Woman
Believe
Stand
Rock & Roll is Dead
Rock Star City Life
Where Are We Runnin'
Fly Away
Are You Gonna Go My Way
Push
Let Love Rule

02.18.12 KMA Ali 70 Birthday @ MGM Grand Garden Arena - Las Vegas, NV

The quiet before the storm

Manny, George & Sam

Today we did the Keep Memory Alive Muhammad Ali 70th birthday celebration. It was one of the greatest non-concert, non-sporting events I'll ever be a part of and one in which I saw only about 90 seconds of the live event. Too much crap going on behind the scenes. I've never worked on an event that had so many cooks in the kitchen - figuratively. I get the irony of that statement.

The red carpet

The talent on the red carpet was pretty good. Diverse. Some big guns. It was located in the worst location possible from an operations standpoint but life goes on. 

Chocolate championship belts

In the end it looked fine on TV and they raised a ton of moola for the Cleveland Clinic & Lou Ruvo Brain Institute. And that's all that mattered.

Happy birthday champ

I don't have much else to say about the event other than happy birthday Ali.

Happy birthday. 

Sunday Kind Of Love

I joined Green Valley Presbyterian Church today. Actually it's not a big deal since I've been going there pretty regularly since last April and have been a member of a Presbyterian church since I was a baby. But I made the leap to do it here in Vegas, alone. 

A side tangent: I didn't want to do this alone which is strange because I'm so independent and have done most everything in my life alone and have no problem doing things alone. As a matter of fact, I prefer to do most things alone. I live alone, I travel alone, I eat at restaurants & bars alone, I bought my house alone, I moved away from MN alone. Faith and God is an entirely personal & singular relationship so it's so odd to me that I felt so strongly about wanting to do this with someone. Or maybe I just wanted to do this with Counselor  because I'm looking for a Sunday Kind Of Love.

Today church was packed. Good sign but I got moved from the isle and got bumped in a couple of feet. I don't like sitting in the inside of the pew. I like the end - goes back to my need for an exit route. Yeah, that probably stems from my commitment issues and at an embryonic level being abandoned as an infant. But that's a therapy session for another post. Counselor walked in late (comme d'habitude) and sat on the other side of the sanctuary again. Second time in 2 weeks. I know it's for the best we're not sitting together and I realize I'm the one who pushed him away but it still stung. 

The service ended and I had a half hour before the New Member class started. On my way out of the sanctuary Counselor was there waiting for me. I was glad he did. I hadn't spoken to him in 2 weeks. We walked outside and talked about what was going on in our lives for 10 minutes or so. I was pretty guarded and he could tell. We laughed a little. I told him I was going to the New Member Class and he should come. He passed. Said he wanted to but couldn't commit to the time today. I wanted him to come with me but I know it was for the best he didn't. I can't keep emotionally depending on him. I hadn't planned on doing this with him but I simply didn't want to do it alone. Time to cut the cord. He told me to call him when I finished and maybe we could grab a drink. "I don't have your number," I said. "My new one? Want me to text it to you?"

"Nope," and I turned and walked into the building. Be strong girl. Be strong.

The class was uneventful. When I switched from my childhood church, Central Presbyterian (and the church my family still belongs to) to the one I branched out to when I finished college, Westminster Presbyterian, I'd been thru one of these classes before. It's more a "get to know you" session while they tell you some general principals of what makes a Presbyterian different from a Lutheran from a Catholic. 3 hours later it ended in a prayer welcoming us all to Green Valley Presbyterian. 

As I'm typing this post, I get a text from Counselor. "...Nice to see you today." I responded the same. I'm going to keep the text until midnight then it gets deleted along with his phone number, not because of anything he's done but because I know me. I know at some point in the near future I'll be tempted to call or text him and that can't happen. I'm weak. I admit it. Much like an alcoholic can't have bottle of booze in the house, I can't have access to his phone number. Christ, even after I unfriended him on FB I still managed to private message him. I'm pretty pathetic when it comes to him but I'm working on it. One day at a time. 

Forgive Us Our Debts

Went to RiRa tonight with my pal Big Rod. Laughed my ass off. The gang there are so funny it's ridiculous. He is such a great friend. Sometimes I think Big Rod & I have the relationship Counselor wishes we had. 

I came home around midnight, checked Facebook and realized I sent a private message to Counselor last night. I had a few cocktails last night so I didn't remember sending it. I unfriended him last week because it was too tempting to check his status, look at his pics and wonder who the new girls were in his life. 

I told him this was my fault. And it is. I'm the weak one. I'm the coward. I'm the one who can't handle it. I'm the one who screwed up and it's something I'll live with. Christ, I'm 40 and still trying to figure out how to have a normal relationship. 

A month ago I would have been sick to my stomach that I sent him this message. Now I'm glad I did. I'm tired of feeling bad, of having regrets. I'm probably going to die sooner than I expect and if my brother's death taught me anything it's to say what you want to say when you want to say it; do what you want to do when you want to do it. 

Forgive Us Our Debts as we forgive our debtors. Hey Jesus. Good line. 

For Robert & Natalie

It's been almost 2 months since my last post. I've been hoarding them because the recent ones are pretty personal, not the light stuff dishing concert details or boxing gossip. I was reminded of my lack of posts by a couple who stumbled upon my blog. So Robert & Natalie, this is for you. Thank you for reminding me that while my rants can be entertaining they're also cathartic for me. So here's the skinny...

About a year ago my brother Dave was diagnosed with bladder cancer. We all knew his time was limited so this past Thanksgiving we went on a family cruise to the Caribbean. Turns out that was the best thing we could have done because less than 2 months later he died. It was heartbreaking particularly for me because I was here in Vegas & my family lives in Minnesota. I got a call at work from my other brother saying Dave wasn't doing too well and that he may only have a week or so left. I booked the next flight home, 7.00am. While I was grabbing dinner @ Seablue the night before I was headed back to the Twin Cities I get a call from my sister-in-law. Dave had died. My entire family was with him: mom, dad, his partner Aub, Rog, Kath and the pup Ralphie. Everyone but me. I missed him by 13 hours. Time. Goddamn you.

The next 2 weeks were pretty hard. David's funeral wasn't for 2 weeks because of scheduling and other stuff so I waited to fly home. At the time Counselor and I were hanging out pretty regularly. We spent every weekend together from before Christmas to past New Years. Same old crap. I interpreted it as dating, he thought of it as just 2 pals hanging out who spent the nights together. But when my brother died only 2 people knew. Trubes because she was with me @ Seablue when I got the call and Bill my friend the bartender who knows me better than most. I have no problem telling the world about my love life, work life, pet peeves, social engagements, what-have-you but when it comes to things really close to me, I shut down and clam up. But I knew I didn't want to be alone so I called Counselor. He spent the next 36 hours straight with me. He fed me, listened to me cry, distracted me, got me drunk, held me, told me everything was going to be ok. He took the day off work to be with me. I couldn't have asked for more. He was the standup guy I hoped he would be. He was there when I needed him. Then he fell off the face of the earth. Just like that. No more calls, emails, texts. Nada. I'm so thankful he was there for me those 2 days but in hindsight what I really needed was him there 2 weeks after, when my emotional shit hit the fan. I'm disappointed that he didn't care enough to send the obligatory follow-up text. He called once before my flight home for the funeral but at that point I was so furious with him and broken up about my brother that his small talk didn't matter. Too little too late. After the call I did something entirely childish and sent him a text saying, "It's not a good idea for us to hang out anymore." Yeah. Like I said. Childish. He called the next day but my CrackBerry happened to be going thru the TSA conveyor belt @ the airport so I missed it. He didn't leave a message and I didn't call him back. What more was there to say. 

Dave's funeral was hard but kind of comical. My brother had a quirky sense of humor. He quit smoking like 20 years ago but wanted to be buried with a pack of Marlboro reds. Oh, and he played Metallica. Classic Dave. 

Two weeks or so had passed since I'd spoken to Counselor. I'm sitting @ Seablue and my friend Christine who is a server there (& friends w/him too) tells me he misses me, he's sad, he's really depressed, he's lonely, blah blah blah. I feel bad but hey, pal, I feel the same way so suck it up. You're the one who doesn't want me so why the hell are you sad? Anyhow I'm driving home and Christine texts me saying Counselor wants me to come to the bar. He really wants to see me. So what do I do? Yeah, you guess it. I head to the bar. Counselor had been there for hours so he was feeling no pain. He was his normal charming, funny, sweet, cute self. Said all the right things. Eventually we were the only 2 left and, yep, once again, I end up spending the night with him. He's the single best person I've ever slept with. Not had sex with, but slept with. You know how sometimes your bodies just fit together perfectly? Yeah, that's us. Ok, TMI. Anyhow, we get up the next morning and he's completely detached, distracted. He's being a total jerk as if he's mad at me for being there. In less than 24 hours I went from missing him to feeling bad for him to being in love with him to hating him. Christ this is fucked up.

We go to Starbucks before I head home and I grab the NY Times. I randomly open it and in the Sunday Style section is an article called "It's Not Me, It's You: Dropping a friend can be like a divorce, complete with awkward exchanges, made-up excuses and lingering ill will." (By Alex Williams 01.29.12) Forehead, meet brick. As we walk out he asks if I'm going into this restaurant where he always goes because he likes the bartender - who incidentally he bought a Starbucks for too. What a nice guy (she says seething with disdain). I tell him he must be out of his mind if he thinks I'm going in there to watch him hit on her. 

"At some point (Counselor) one of us has to start respecting the other," I say definitively. 

"And it's probably going to be you because you're a better person," he concedes. I kept walking to my car alone thinking, "No, I'm not a better person, I just love you more than you do," and finished the article. 

I haven't spoken to him since. I saw him at church last Sunday. He sat on the other side of the sanctuary. I watched him drive away. I miss him every day, 100 times a day but in the words of Bonnie Rait, "I can't make you love me, if you don't." Puke.