You Are Not Alone

Tomorrow is the official start of fight week. Mayweather vs. Cotto. Tuesday we start with the media circus also known as the arrivals. Because the name of the fight is Ring Kings, apparently, there's going to be a throne in the lobby of the MGM Grand. Great. What a treat.

Normally I love fight weeks. I know all the players, I get to have lots of fun dinners & convos with my pals in the industry. I'm a schmoozing machine. But this time I'm really not looking forward to it. I am going to dinner with my friend Cindy from HBO @ STK on Thursday. Now THAT I am looking forward to. There aren't many females I like working with and even fewer I call friends in this business. Too much drama and idiocy with many of them. But she's one of the best. We're like sisters from another mother. She handles all the big parties and celebs for HBO. Much like me people don't understand that while we work on big events, our jobs aren't glamourous - we don't hang out with George Clooney (well, she might) and we don't get paid big bucks (well, she prob does). Shit, I should go work for HBO. (Note to self, talk to Cindy about this.)

For this fight we're doing 2 press conferences, because one just isn't exciting enough. Wednesday @ Hollywood Theatre is the presser for Mayweather & Cotto and Canelo & Mosley and Thursday they'll do the rest of the undercard. Friday is the weigh in @ the MGM Grand Garden Arena. And Saturday is the fight. Hopefully by Wednesday my attitude picks up. Fight weeks should be fun, not a pain in the ass. People coming to me for help should be flattering, not irritating. Problem solving should be satisfying, not torturous. Staff who just want someone to talk to should be my opportunity for generosity, not a moment to wish for a Steinway to drop on me or them (whichever is more convenient for God). All this no-drinking-no-red-meat-daily-exercise-crap has made me more bitter, less fulfilled and increasingly introverted. Great. So I'll live to be 100 years old, but alone because I've alienated myself. Tremendous job Amy. Bravo. Well done. But You Are Not Alone yet, so hang in there. There's light at the end of the tunnel you're in. Just be patient...

Change

Sometimes a message can Change your life.

04.21.12 Eagles @ MGM Grand Garden Arena - Las Vegas, NV

We have doors

Today - the Eagles. People have joked that they are the MGM Grand Garden Arena house band. We've had them 3 times in under 6 months and will add another before year's end. I wish they were our house band. I could do this show once a week. The entire production team is pretty laid back. The head of their security for this leg, Gio, is one of my faves. We see him at least once a year, 2 if I'm lucky. Last time he was with Aerosmith I think. 

Although I was happy to be doing this show I was not happy about being there at 8.00a. My guy who normally supervises the early shift flew the coop to Italy for a little vaca. He's my savior so I'm thrilled he got out of dodge for a while. But working these 16+ hours days suck. It's not so much the length but the boredom in between the drama. If I were busy the entire time it wouldn't be so bad but there's nothing worse than being bored at work. Yeah, there were about 50 things I could have been doing to curb my boredom but that early on a Saturday morning, who the hell wants to be at work. People think this job is so cool, so glamorous, so fulfilling. That's a bunch of crap. What makes it tolerable are the people… well my small, tight knit group anyhow.

Where's my wardrobe?

As the afternoon dragged on I fuddled with my new BlackBerry. I used to have a BlackBerry with Netel. Remember those? Of course not. No one in the world still has them. I hated mine because unlike the phone you don't have the option to ignore a 'chirp' unless you turn off the network altogether which means you can't receive calls, texts or emails. So annoying to awake to that sound. The worst was when someone would 'accidentally' chirp me. I got the Bold with the touch screen. It's always fun to get a new toy. I am toying with getting an iPhone but am too cheap to pay for the monthly service. Work pays for my CrackBerry so what's the point in paying for another one. When the 5 comes out I might suck it up and get one though. We'll see. So where was I… the Eagles.

Crowd loves them!

Sometime around 1-ish I head to tour catering with the boys. I just sit down with my plate of greens when my phone goes off. It's Gio reminding me of the 1.00p meeting. Oops. Kinda forgot about that. Luckily he was cool and said just pop over when I was done eating. So I mowed down my salad, grabbed Mary who works with me in the arena and we head to studio 4.

Gio is one of the coolest guys I come across. He's the rare breed of tour security who is great at his job, calm, cool, friendly yet stern but most of all respectful towards my entire staff. I can't tell you how many assholes are out there. The best phrase (or variation thereof) is, "…this is your house. I'm just a visitor." We go thru the mechanics of the show. No pyro, no intermission, camera policy has relaxed, blah, blah, blah. The Eagles show isn't tres complique. No theatrics. Just 4 guys on a stage. Pure music. We go over the credential board & the access points. There are a couple of VIP hospitality parties: 1 for fans who paid for the privilege, 1 for the band guests and 1 for the MGM. Nothing out of the ordinary. Best part of the meeting - Gio tells us the band is doing a runner. That means no lingering after the show. The band goes directly from the stage to their vehicles to the jet. And I mean directly. With the police escort it takes all of 4 minutes to go from the stage to the FBO across the street. Now THAT'S a runner.

Joe Walsh working the crowd

From 1.30p - 3.30p not much going on. I got people in place for a sound check, tweeted some random pics, smoked a few Dunhills and gabbed with Zippy about life. Before I knew it 4.30p was here and it was time to brief my supervisory team. I've said it 100x and I'll say it again. My 15 men & women are the best in the business - and they take better care of me than I deserve. I always feel like a load's been lifted when they arrive on site. I know everything will be ok and I can relax. There's nothing like the feeling of complete confidence in your team. Nothing.

How'd you like to be this guy!

5.30p hits and I head out to the 150 ushers checking in for the show. I gave out some employee recognition awards and tell them they've all gotten a raise. Not a huge one but hey, a raise is a raise. It's the 2nd one they've gotten under me - I'm pretty happy about that.

6.25p and I grab Zippy to get doors open. Actually at about 6.00p Max calls me and says that production has already given the go-ahead for doors whenever we're ready. That hardly ever happens. Ever. So I get everyone in place and in my loud-mouth voice, "Everybody UP! Here we go. Have a great night!"

Once doors are open, the show is in the hands of my team. I don't micro-manage, I don't interfere when I don't need to, I fully trust them. I'm always available to them if they need me but they rarely do. I let people actually do their job. That's why I hired them. If I wanted to do it for them, I'd change my occupation. So I head back to my office to true-up my estimate for settlement before going upstairs for dinner.

Eagles don't fly, they roll!

As soon as the band hits the stage I head to Seablue and am looking forward to a quiet dinner alone. I'm not in a social mood and just want to watch whatever dumb Stanley Cup Playoff game Bill has on the screen. Shortly after I sit down Sebastian comes in and asks to join me. He's the Director of Restaurants or something. To be honest, I don't remember his title. He's a good guy and despite my desperate need to be alone, I oblige. What am I gonna say, "No, go away." It ended up being really fun. We laughed for a good 1/2 hour straight. He's French so when he tells stories in his accent it's so hilarious. In the end I'm glad we had dinner together. Unexpected surprise.

Where's your seat? Front row?

Around 9.00p I head back to the arena to check on the show. At this point I've seen zero of the concert, and that doesn't bother me one bit. I saw them twice back in the latter part of last year and we'll have them back in November of this year. But I figure I should Tweet a couple of pics for the Grand Garden Arena feed so I head to the concourse and grab some shots. I don't have the patience to sit thru a whole song so I head backstage to chew the fat with the guys. Another favorite site: the artist cars lined up. Watching their taillights drive away makes me so happy!

Crowd heading out

I head back to my office and decide to go watch the last song from the vommy. I walk thru the tunnel and I see house lights up. The show is over. Even better! Everyone is milling out like civilized adults. I wander onto the floor to say hi to some guests and ask if they had a good time. A resounding yes. The chair racks move in as do the cleaning crews. My favorite part of the night. The End. I wrap up with my team and my 1.00a I'm home. Ahhh.

Thanks for a great show Glenn, Joe, Don & Timothy. We'll see you again November 17th - if I'm still around...

Today

In response to the question, "So what did you do Today?"

7.30a BlackBerry alarm goes off. Click snooze.
7.40a BlackBerry alarm goes off. Click snooze.
7.50a BlackBerry alarm goes off. Click snooze.
8.00a BlackBerry alarm goes off. Turn on the Today show.
8.05a Open Mac Air. Check Twitter & FB.
8.30a Hit the kitchen. Open the fridge & take out the vegis. Wash & slice.
8.45a Shove vegis in juicer. Pour juice into wine glass. Drink.
8.50a Wash juicer parts. Give dog food & replace water in dish.
9.00a Put on tee, sweats, Nikes & earbuds. Turn on Shuffle.
9.15a Head out for 4 mile walk.
10.30a Back at the house to walk the dog.
10.45a Shower & get ready for work.
11.45a Give dog treat. Turn on HBO for dog.
11.46a Get in car. Plug in iPod. Unlock BlackBerry. Drive.
12.05p Arrive at work. Drop bags in office.
12.10p Head to lunch with the boss.
12.55p Head back to the office. Work.
3.00p Text Motorcycle-guy to go to dinner.
3.10p Receive text for rain check because Thursdays he plays hockey.
5.30p Walk up to Seablue. Try hamachi without chili peppers. Order to go.
7.00p Drive home.
7.30p Say hi to neighbor. Get bit by his dog.
7.35p Greet my dog. Wash face. Put on man's dress shirt. Unpack dinner.
7.45p Eat salmon & asparagus. Pour decaf iced tea into wine glass. Watch tv.
9.00p Start 3 loads of laundry.
9.45p Begin daily blog. Check Tweets & FB.
10.15p Ice forearm from dog bite.
10.30p Paint fingernails. 2 coats.
11.00p Eat carrots.
12.30a Brush & floss teeth.
1.30a Head to bed. Read news online. Turn on Law & Order.
2.45a Fall asleep.

For Some Reason

Me with Chef Michael Mina

Tonight I had a quickie dinner @ Seablue. It was actually the night the namesake Chef Michael Mina was in hosting a "Have dinner with the chef" promo. I think it was like $100. I wouldn't mind paying the hundred bucks but I'm not really interested in mingling with a bunch of foodies or casino guests or executives. I just like sitting at the bar, eating really good food - and so that's what I did. As I finished my hamachi appetizer Ed the GM came over with Chef Mina and they said hi. Michael is pretty soft spoken, nice - and I mean that in a very good way. We chatted about the new menu items. He asked if I liked the yellowtail. "It's very peppery," I said. That was my way of criticizing the new spin on what used to be a perfect dish without actually insulting the chef. 

Hamachi sashimi

Seablue changed up their menu (again). Chef Tony mentioned this was coming. I'm always tentative when they do this. Sometimes they hit it out of the park. Other times, not so much. Couple of my faves are back like hamachi (yellowtail), beef tartare & veal carpaccio. I wasn't a big fan of this round of yellowtail though. Kind of bland and too much pepper. I'm not a huge pepper fan so next time I order it I'm going to ask if they can skip that. I also ordered the halibut. That was juicy, fresh and delish. I'm not eating red meat or fowl right now For Some Reason. I say 'for some reason' because it didn't start intentionally. I haven't had red meat since late March. Since I had dinner with Motorcycle-guy @ Shibuya during the Lionel Richie & Friends show when he told me about juicing I just kinda stopped eating meat. But when I saw the tartare & veal on the menu @ Seablue again I really wanted to try it. But I abstained. Not sure how long I'm going to go without red meat. I don't really have a plan. I'm just winging it. When I feel like having a dripping blood rare piece of cow I'll have it. 

Halibut

As I left Seablue tonight Bill gave me a great compliment from behind the bar, "I'm proud of you. Keep it up." May not sound like much but Bill does not shell out feel-good stuff, or say anything particularly nice, ever. It's not that he's a bad guy; he's one of the best men I know. He's just more snarky & deprecating than encouraging. That's part of why I like the guy. He's been tres supportive in round 2 of my health initiative. It was just the thing I needed to hear to keep the momentum going. Thanks Wm. Thanks.

Impressions

Chris Botti's new album Impressions is out today. Grab it. 

Good Enough

Today I was there when a friend needed me, one of my best friends, Big Rod. He asked me if I'd pick him up from the hospital after a minor surgical procedure. There was no question. I'd drop everything for that kid, even at 7.30a this morning. I love him like my baby brother. Around 6.50a he BBMed me telling me to go back to sleep. He wouldn't be done until 9.30a. At that point I was already up so I grabbed my Mac Air and checked Twitter. Not much going on the feed so I hopped into the kitchen for my 'new normal' of juicing. It's much better when I'm not rushed. I like to be able to take my time. I like to put the vegetables in the juicer by color. It's silly because when it's finished it all gets mixed together anyhow but it's part of my OCD, control-freak nature. It's part of the fun.

I managed to get out of the house by 9.00a and to the Same Day Surgery lobby @ St. Rose Dominican Hospital, Sienna Campus by 9.20a. As I turned to look for a seat the nurse called me in. Perfect timing. Big Rod was a little loopy after his procedure but in good spirits. Nothing serious but he couldn't drive home because of the anesthesia A short while later there were minor complications and he was in serious pain. Big Rod has that nickname for a reason. He's 6'5" 250. Big. And to see a man of his size suffering, to see my dear friend in pain, and not be able to do a thing about it was excruciating. In time the doctor came and he was well on his way to some relief. 

I was there from 9.30a until 4.30p. I left for about 45 minutes to go shoe shopping when the nurse kicked me out so they could fiddle with him but other than that he was a captive audience to my mindless rambling about my non-existent love life. He hates hearing about it. "Oh God Zopfi," he says to me all the time. But he was my hostage so I made him listen to me talk about Motorcycle-guy... and coincidentally right then Motorcycle-guy shot me a text. I hadn't heard from him in a week and a half. He'd been in Hawaii with his girl-du-jour so I took this as a good sign that he text me when he got back to town. He said he gained 5 lbs on vacation and needed to get back to juicing. I told him if he broke up with his girlfriend he'd lose 120 lbs. Yeah, not exactly a classy move but I needed to be bold. Let him know I'm serious in a playful, passive-aggressive manner. (I know, I know. I'm disturbed.) A couple of texts later he asked me if I knew anyone at Lavo or Tao. He needed a hookup. A hookup. He didn't want to talk to me or give a crap about where I was or what I'd been up to. He needed something from me. I told him I didn't know anyone at either place, which is true. I'm not a club kid. Never have been. Damnit. I was disappointed. He's such a good guy, and smart and cute and charming and blah blah blah. I thought he had potential to be different, and he may still but until proven otherwise he falls into the annals of the rest of the good men who just want things from me instead of want me. I realize I am overreacting and blowing these simple texts out of proportion and reading way too much into his words. It's hard not to though. If it quacks like a duck… and man have I known a lot of ducks. Poor Amy. Boo hoo. Yeah, I'll get over it. It's just unpleasant to be reminded that no matter how hard I try I can't stop being me, and that even if it's not good enough for some it has to be Good Enough for me because I can't escape myself.

Heaven

The tailored white dress shirt. Is there a more perfectly crafted piece of fabric? I simply cannot resist a man in a dark charcoal suit, tailored white dress shirt, unfastened tie. God that gets me going. My love for the white dress shirt started way back in high school when I worked in the Mens Dress Shirt & Tie Department at Dayton's in downtown St. Paul. Those were the good old days. Assisting helpless, clueless men pick out shirts and ties to go with their Hart Schaffner & Marx suits. Heaven. I never appreciated it as much as I do now. Even back then I had a deep respect for classic, tailored, conservatively dressed men. Some call it boring, stuffy. I call it masculine and sophisticated. Athletic and European cuts are my favorite but not a lot of men can or like to wear those. I've also been into french cuff shirts lately too but you've got to be built like a modern-day quarterback or hockey player to pull it off. The only person under 6' I've seen it work for is Zippy. For 5'10" he cleans up tall. 

Ripping a man's shirt off him, having hot sex and throwing it over your naked body in the morning is nothing short of perfection. Smelling his scent on the collar of his shirt is one of my favorite things. I can't imagine why Julie Andrews didn't sing about that...

The Great American Juicer Experiment x2

Vibrant veggies & fruit

The Great American Juicer experiment is one week old. So far it's a success. I've managed to stick to it for 8 days. I feel great and look better. My pants are looser but I don't know if that's attributed to juicing for a week or to the effects of being a good girl for a month and a half. Either way I guess it doesn't matter because the end result is the same.

Vegi swirlie

I've been back to walking my 4+ miles again too. With mom and dad in town last week I only managed to venture out Sunday and Monday but I didn't beat myself up about it. I'm was back to it again this weekend. It's funny how my muscle memory came right back. I'm glad. My endorphins need to kick in so I don't loose momentum.

Best tasting concoction

I'm getting used to the taste of the juice too, getting the hang of what to put in it to make it taste bearable. I like the process. It takes me about 40 minutes from bed to walking out of the kitchen so it's certainly not quick. Then again, I'm a little compulsive about making sure to wash all the parts before I even drink the concoction so I'm sure I when I'm in a rush I could shave 15 minutes off my time. 

Pulp this

I've learned a couple of things about juicing to my tastes. Broccoli is pointless. You have to shove a lot of it in there to get anything to come out. Kind of like a slot machine. I find the combo of spinach, cuke or celery, red or yellow bell pepper, couple of carrots, a Braeburn apple & half a lemon works the best for me. I like layering the colors. The non-greeneries go in after the vibrant colors. It all gets mixed together in the end but as long as I'm taking the time to do this, I'm going to take the time to make it pretty, albeit just for a second.

Starbucks has froth envy

Today I tried putting the pulp on a sandwich with some low cal vegi spread left over from Einstein's Bagels. I read that the pulp is full of fiber. The concept wasn't bad but I learned that I need to separate the lemon and apple pulp from the vegi pulp if I'm going to do that. The lemon zest makes the filling very bitter. I know there are sites that reco using it in muffins, as a supplement to dog food or compost. You can dehydrate it to make some kind of 'cookie' too. Yeah, I don't think that's going to happen. My experiment with the pulp is over. From here on out it goes down the disposer. 

Day 8 is over and I don't see my current love affair with it ending anytime soon. And so The Great American Juicer Experiment continues...

Friday

Friday the 13th. Nothing particularly remarkable about today. I was supposed to take the day off but ended up working several hours anyhow because of some extremely needy people who I wish would fall off a cliff. I was not happy about going in so as soon as I hit the arena I popped into Trubes' office and said, "5.30. Seablue." She just nodded in agreement. Thank God. This is why we're friends. She gets me. 

This is one of the last free weekends we have in the next couple of months so it's pretty quiet. The guys are painting the offices so they're right outside my door. They can hear me singing so I belt out some old school Whodini. They just laugh - but I hear them singing along to New Edition, Luther Vandross and PM Dawn. Yeah, they made today bearable. I love horsing around with the guys. 

Bouchon goodie bag

Last night was dinner with mom and dad @ Bouchon and we got goodie bags. My parents didn't want to bring them home in their luggage so they gave them to me to bring into work. I gave them to the girls in the office. I think they like getting stuff like this. And if they don't, they can toss it. 

5.25p rolls around and we're at the entrance to the restaurant. Yeah, we're a little eager. I got oysters. Haven't had them in a while. She got a bun-less hamburger and I got the ahi with broccolini to go. We couldn't have been there for more than an hour. Quickie tonight. Suited us both just fine.

Benjamin

Dinner at Bouchon

Tonight was the last night at dinner with my parents. We started with Seablue on Monday, ended with Bouchon on Thursday. Perfect bookends. Last year I hooked up my pal for Bocelli and he returned the favor tonight. 

Dad, Mom & Me. 

We got to Bouchon at the Venetian around 6.10ish. It was still light out so the dining room had a great glow about it. The enormous windows looking out onto the courtyard & pool were great backdrops to our table. Not too many people there, but a couple of tables were occupied. It was nice and quiet. Not silent but quiet. Enough that we could have a conversation at a reasonable level. I just love restaurants like this. A tad upscale but not uppity. You can wear a suit or pop by in jeans like my dad did. Fancy silverware but the menus are printed on baguette paper you throw out. Music in the background that doesn't overpower. (Note, they played Botti. Well, of course they did!) Great bar too. I love that it's completely away from the casino. If you self-park it's a short elevator ride to the 10th floor to Bouchon. 

Olives. Simple but tasty.

After we were seated the GM Adam came over to introduce himself to us. He's the one I did the favor for but I've never actually met him in person until tonight so this was as much for me as it was for my parents. Shortly after he leaves our table out comes some celebratory Champagne for mom and dad. I'm still on the wagon so I raised my glass of water in cheers.

The trout. 

Our server was Brittney, the girlfriend of my pal Charlie who used to be the sommelier @ Seablue. She was very sweet and cute. (Good going Charlie!) We took our time to order. My parent's aren't big eaters so we didn't go nuts with food. It's a good thing because they brought out an amuse: their special of gnocchi with shrimp & creme fraiche. Dad really liked that. It was good but I'm not a big gnocchi fan. Something about the consistency. Mom ordered the Saumon Poele (salmon) and app-ed it with a carrot soup. Dad got the prime flat iron and I decided on the Truite Amandine (trout) with some olives to start. They loved their dishes as did I. The shaved toasted almonds on top of the trout were ridiculous. I could have eaten a bowl of those. They brought out braised cabbage fondu and macaroni much to our surprise. They were also delish. The cabbage fondu would be good on a cold winter's day in Minnesota.

Desserts. Yum.

Dessert anyone?

At this point we were full but not uncomfortably so. Brittney brings us desert menus. Mom & dad decided to "go all out" on their last day since they'd been good the past 4 days and share the Profiteroles. I got the Classic Blue Log cheese. I'm not a sweets fan. I like salty. About 10 minutes later, out come not only what we ordered but 2 other deserts including their special brownie & Thomas Keller's signature lemon tart. Mom & dad did their best and got thru about 1/2 of the deserts while I ate my cheese. At this point we're now all deliciously full. We need to stand up and walk…

Goodie Bags from Bouchon

I ask Brittney for the check. I'm fairly certain there won't be one but I don't want to embarrass anyone, least of all my parents. "It's taken care of," she says. I leave her a Benjamin and we head for the door. On the way out I went to say thank you to Adam the GM for taking such great care of us. "I almost forgot the most important thing," he says as he turns and grabs 3 bags with goodies from Bouchon Bakery. This is how it's done. The goodies aren't fancy or expensive. But it's a classy move that makes the night that much better. 

Thank you to Adam, Brittney, Charlie and the team @ Bouchon for capping off a great week with my parents. Sante. 

I'm Good At What I Do

The weather today was chilly and windy so my parents and I bagged Red Rock Canyon and headed to the casino instead. Dinner tonight was at the Yard House @ Red Rock. Big mistake. It was so loud we couldn't hear each other talk. Humungous portions of average food. More is not better. Sometimes more is just more. I should have learned my lesson from the horrible food I got at the Yard House at LA Live in Cali last month. I got the seared ahi tuna and once again it was slathered in sauce. It was a big filet though so I was able to eat around the sauce without sacrificing any substance. It came with brown rice which was packed so tightly I could have given it to Motorcycle-guy to use as a puck for when he plays hockey. Fitting as half the flatscreens in the joint had on the Stanley Cup playoffs. 

Talk was labored at the table. Just too loud. Even if I weren't with my parents this wouldn't be my favorite. I'm just not a sportsbar kind of gal. I'm more sit at the bar in a nice restaurant kind of girl. The last time I was at this Yard House I was with Counselor after we went to a party at the home of one of his partners. We met some other of his law buddies there but eventually left and went to the sportsbook bar where he apologized to me for breaking my heart 5 years earlier. I hate that places still remind me of him. 

We finish dinner and head out to the dreaded casino. I hit the slots with my mom again. I just don't get it. As my mom pointed out, "Well, we won't have to worry about you becoming a problem gambler." No truer words spoken. I caught myself looking at people walking by and not even paying attention to whatever was going on with the machine I was playing. All the dinging, the randomness, the ridiculousness of chance. I don't see much value in it as entertainment - but hey, whatever floats your boat. Those gamblers are why I don't have to pay state income tax. People sometimes say it's why I have a job. That's pure bullshit. I have a job because I'm Good At What I Do. It just happens to be at an arena attached to a casino. If I hadn't ended up at the Grand Garden I have no doubt I'd be working in sports, probably at a major sports facility or for a pro team somewhere or maybe still in golf or boxing. But no sense in speculation. What's done is done. Now I'm just working on my exit strategy. But that's for another post...

So where was I? Oh, the slots… when changing machines we see my dad so I hang with him for awhile. He's a much more conservative bettor than my mom. I'm more like him. I don't think he would ever have ever dropped a penny in a slot machine if my mom didn't like to go. But for them it's casual entertainment. They don't buy fancy cars, have expensive jewelry or own multiple homes. They do travel but beyond that, blowing a couple thousand dollars on slots isn't a big deal. They've earned the mind-numbing privilege. 

I managed to walk out with $80. I doubled my money. I'm perfectly happy with that. And I got to spend more time with my ever aging parents. I'm perfectly grateful for that. Tomorrow Bouchon. Thank God. After tonight I need a respectable restaurant.

Fantasy

Ahi tuna

Had dinner tonight at The M Resort with the 'rents. We went to Anthony's. It was good. We sat at a table right next to the glass looking into the grill in the kitchen. Loved it but watching them cook all the huge pieces of meat was hard given my current I-only-eat-fish-and-vegis situation. After the hostess sat us the server came over and introduced himself as Bill. He was cute. Lean like Bill from Seablue. He looked at me kind of strange, cocked his head and said, "I think I remember you." Oh Christ. It's never a good thing when a man says that to me. What drunken idiot girl thing did I do or say to him. "You've been in here before." Thank God. Then it clicked. He was so good looking that I wouldn't have minded if I'd slept with him but turns out he actually waited on us the last time we were there. Whew. He was the perfect blend of playful & absent. My perfect kind of waiter. I hate it when they hover. I can pour my own Pellegrino into the glass. I don't need someone to do it for me.

Sea bass

I started with the ahi tuna. I could have eaten 4 of these little rosebuds. So delish and I love it when they put roe on stuff. I love squishing them in my mouth like manual pop rocks. Dad got the bone in filet. George Bennett is munching on the bone now. The filet actually had 2 bones on it so he'll get another one tomorrow. Poor dog. He's so neglected and abused. Mom got the halibut. I tried to stay away from it because it rested in lemon butter but I should have gotten that instead. My pan seared sea bass was yummy but entirely smothered in a butter-based sesame soy glaze. The word 'glaze' should have been my clue to stay away from it. It was good but if you're watching your calorie intake I suggest getting the halibut or asking for it sans glaze. 

George Bennett's dinner

We talked about old times - my cookie monster birthday cake when I was a toddler, our old house, the time I went to work with my dad, funny stories about how people gave my mom their seat on the Monorail because she looks like a little old granny, the fact my dad retired 16 years ago. It's crazy to think that he retired at 56. 

The check came and dad paid, of course. No matter how old I am, I'm still their little girl. I don't even challenge them anymore. "Of course we're paying," my mom says. I love that about them. It's nice to be taken care of once in a while. 

After dinner we hit the (ugh) slot machines for about an hour. Dad went on his own and I hung with my mother. I loathe gambling but I get to spend alone time with mom and we bond. She's so funny. She checks out slot machines like I eat my sushi. There's a process and it can't be rushed. She takes her time to prepare, picks the right one, lingers a bit to make sure it looks good and then dives in. She knows the machines she likes, what icon you need to get into the bonus round, how much to bet, which machines are new, where to cash in. It's simply adorable in a Q-tip/senior citizen kind of way. I hate throwing away my money like that so I only bet the minimums. She's betting a dollar a pop. Not massive by any means but the thought of dropping a hundred bucks in a machine in an hour gives me acid reflux. Now ask me (pre or post current health trend) if I'd lay down $100 on a bottle of wine or some foie, hell yes! We all have our priorities. 

Love that The M has Dyson
dryers in the restrooms

I drove them back to the MGM. Dad always asks me how my car is running. I'm sure he's never asked my brothers that. "Good, dad." It's a 2011. It'd better be running well. He knows it. He just likes to check on me. "How's the (portfolio)?" Yeah, I'm not as good at saving as they were but I'm doing fine. He knows that too. He actually manages it for me. There's no one on earth I trust more with my money. I love that they'll always take care of me for as long as they're alive but it makes me sad that the only thing I can give them in return, I haven't. A grandchild. They have never, ever, ever, ever asked or put any kind of pressure on me but since my oldest brother and his wife aren't having kids (by choice) and my middle brother is now dead, I'm their only hope for a grandbaby. I feel guilty for letting them down. They don't see it that way and think I'm ridiculous. They tell me they are proud of me & love me just the way I am but really, what are they supposed to say. "Amy, you suck as a human being because you aren't married or in a relationship and don't have kids like the rest of the world." I feel like since they gave me such a great gift in adopting me as an infant, the least I can do is give them a grandchild. But life hasn't worked out that way for me. Yet still I have hope. I just want to do it in the correct order: find Mr. Right, date, fall in love, get married, enjoy time together, have a baby, raise a child, grow old together, die. Jesus, I'm a control freak even in my Fantasy life. 

Remember

My parents are in town this week. Tonight was dinner at (where else) Seablue. They just got in today and are still on central time so it's where we normally have our first dinner when they first get to Vegas. Easy in, easy out, great food, excellent service, you know the drill. It was bitter sweet for us though. Mom and dad won't likely be back before they close so I made a silent toast to the 4 of us: me, mom, dad & Seablue. 

Dad mentioned going to Red Rock (the canyon, not the casino) so I think that's on tap for Wednesday. We'll hit Red Rock (the casino, not the canyon) for dinner that night I'm sure. I'm not crazy about any of the restaurants there but it's close to the park and not a bad place so I'm sure it will be fine. Tomorrow we're headed to the M. My parents and I really like it there. It's small, classy, comfortable, great decor, great customer service. We go there every time they visit. We usually hit Anthony's for a steak or Marinelli's for Italian. I'm thinking Bouchon for dinner on Thursday, the last night they're here. I've been there a couple times and loved it. Mom & dad dig French fare so it'll be a hit. We normally go to Mon Ami Gabi, one of my all-time faves but I'm gonna skip it this year. Last time we were there Counselor joined us. Time to create new memories in a new restaurant. I found it odd they didn't ask me about him but they asked me about Big Rod. I think they secretly wish Rodney and I were dating. They love that kid. I don't have the heart to tell them it will never happen. Rodney is great; he's one of my best friends. Just not the guy for me.

Dinner tonight was early so we were done around 8.00p. They know I hate slot machines so they let me off the hook and we said good night. As they walked away I watched the 2 of them. Married for 55+ years. I'm always amazed at how tiny they are now. They shrink a little more every time I see them. I'm not terribly tall myself; 5'6" flat footed, 5'9"-ish with heels. I tower over them now. My father used to be tall. Or maybe I just imagined him tall because I think of him from the perspective a little girl. I still remember watching him shave in the morning before work. He'd lather up his face, then bend down & lather mine. He'd shave a section on his face, then take a wash cloth and wipe off that same section on mine. I couldn't have been more than 4 or 5 years old. I remember the swishing sound when he shook the razor in the water to clean it off. It's funny what you Remember as a kid. I've said it before, I've got amazing parents. No better role models. I'm a very lucky daughter. Lucky indeed.

Easter Sunday

Today is Easter. Sunday. Sunny and 78 outside. Only 366 short days ago (ok, it really wasn't but Easter doesn't fall on the same day every year and it's a Leap Year so 366 sounds more poetic) I walked up to Green Valley Presbyterian and saw Counselor standing outside, BlackBerry in hand, crisp white dress shirt, striped blue tie, black suit pants. Perfection. That day changed my life. Over the next year I had more love, heartache, sex, tears, fun, joy, disappointment, intimacy & laughter than I did in my previous 39+ years combined. I fell in love, again. Had my heart broken, again. Found myself, again. Fell in lust, again, and again, and again, and again. And again. I lost my brother, grew closer to my family, gained 20lbs and had no idea what I was doing on any given day. I jam packed my life with nicknames like Counselor, Tequila-guy, M, the Cop, the Fireman, Secret Agent-guy & most recently Motorcycle-guy. 

In 1 year I've come full circle. I'm right back to where I was, but somehow I'm different than I was. My heart still aches for now knowing that the one I loved never loved me, for the brother that I lost, for the pain the scars of past mistakes inflict. Better? I don't know. Smarter? I doubt it. Happier? Not really. More genuine? Barely. Still learning? I hope so.

So on this Easter Sunday instead of giving thanks that Christ has risen and all that crap (Yeah, yeah, blaspheme this. God gets my sense of humor.) I'm being my normal selfish self and writing about the year that changed my life. Given the title of this blog I never expected these posts to end up the way they have. It was supposed to be about Chris Botti and my travels across the country to see his shows. Instead it's turned into a chronicle of my wonderfully messed up life and all the players in it.

Maybe one day I'll have a son or daughter who will be able to read this blog and know who their mom really was. How deliciously terrifying. 

The Great American Juicer Experiment

Here are the players.

So when I had dinner with Motorcycle-guy last Monday he told me about juicing. I've been famously known for getting things because men I'm attracted to tell me to. I don't like to do what people tell me to do so this uncharacteristically abnormal for my personality. A Toyota was my first car was because of the guy I liked in college. I bought a Tag because that's what my college love had. My first love from junior high bought me a Mont Blanc so that's all I use when signing. I smoke Dunhills and drink Chivas in honor of my odd love for Hunter S. Thompson. Yeah, Miss. Independent is secretly not such an independent thinker. 

So far so good...

Anyhow, Motorcycle-guy told me that he was on this juicing kick. He's kind of into eating healthy. Apparently he wants to lose 7 pounds in order to look good for his trip to Hawaii with his girlfriend when they're holding hands watching the sun set, drinking champagne & walking on the beach while feeding each other chocolate covered strawberries - not that I'm jealous or bitter at all. He walked me thru the basics so I thought, what the hell. I've done dumber things in the name of a man. I did do my research on Consumer Reports & Google but there's so much info that it's hard to sort thru so I text him a couple days ago asking what kind of juicer he had because they vary from $35-$400. Luckily for my bank account he said he had one that was only about $50. Good deal. I'd never even had vegetable juice other than a V8 in a Bloody Mary so $50 sounded perfect. 

Looks better in a wine glass

In the end I settled on a Black and Decker model for $29 bucks. The waterpic I got on the reco of my dentist was twice as expensive; it's been sitting under my bathroom sink for a year. I hope this juicer doesn't meet the same demise. Truth be told the only other kitchen appliance I have is a toaster which doesn't see much action either. The only sickening part about getting the juicer is I had to pick it up @ Walmart. Target didn't have it. Home Depot didn't have it either. Christ, I loathe Walmart. Yeah, call me a bitch or a snob or an elitist or whatever. I'll pay more to avoid that joint. But I sucked it up and made the most of it. I was there there pretty early (for me) because the dog had an appointment at the groomer @ 10.00a so luckily it wasn't too busy. I also picked up a couple of $5 tee shirts that will last me about 2 washes and some vegis for my first cup of joe, ahem, I mean juice.

Clean up is a breeze

At home I washed the parts, read the directions and got to chopping. Here's a little secret about me. I actually kinda like being in the kitchen. I tell people I hate cooking (and for the most part I do) but sometimes I kinda like it. I like the ritual and consistency of the motions. The precision. I like the utensils, the gadgets, the pinch of this here and a dash of that there. I like the prep. I like putting things in little custard dishes before making it like they do on cooking shows so I can just dump it in when I need it. Saying that I like food styling more than actually cooking is probably more accurate. Once upon a time I did that for a couple of commercial shoots. I actually styled an entire Thanksgiving dinner for a commercial. Ah, the good ol' days back when I was in my 20s, before I knew what life had in store...

Next time, a martini glass

I dump the vegis in the machine and voila, brown colored muddy liquid. Yum-o. I made 20oz of it and dumped it into a huge Riedel burgundy wine glass. I thought it might class it up a little bit and help convince myself this was as satisfying as a glass of Chateauneuf du Pape. This was my only mistake of the culinary adventure. Burgundy glasses are big for a reason, so you can trap the aroma and smell the full bouquet when a wine opens up. This is precisely the opposite of what you want with this stuff. It does not smell pleasant. Luckily, it doesn't actually taste badly. Next time though - I pour it into a martini glass. Clean up was surprisingly simple. Aside from the fact that I hate all the parts sitting out on my counter while they dry, all's well. Man, I should copy this to a post for Black & Decker. So far, best $29 bucks I've spent all week.

And so ends my first foray into the Great American Juicer Experiment. 

Honest

I was the last one out of work today. It's Friday before Easter weekend. I wasn't planning on even being in the office today but these convention clients are brutal and don't really know the meaning of tomorrow, or weekend, or later. They could care less if you just worked 18 hours on an awards show the night before or if your house just burned down. It's the sales team's fault for being so spineless and afraid of saying no that the clients' attitude is like that of a child who is a brat because his parents never taught him any better.  Sales. A necessary evil. 

I was just going to call Sumo II and pick up some sushi on the way home but thought I'd BBM Rodney to see what he was up to. "Come to Strip and meet me for a drink," he text back. Ok. On my way. 

StripSteak was pretty quiet. Sucks for business but good for me. I've never cared for crowds or loud restaurants or busy places where people crowd you. I like quiet & space. I got there before Big Rod, as always, and am greeted by Monica with a smile. Strip is my 3rd home behind Seablue & Fiamma. 

Hamachi @ Strip

I'm in the middle of this cycle of health so I ordered Saint Geron. Anthony the hot bartender popped over to say hi and was surprised I'm still on the wagon. Supportive though. I am starving so I order a double order of hamachi. I love this stuff. They used to have it at Seablue, which makes sense since they're both Michael Mina restaurants, but they don't anymore. It used to be my favorite. Sometimes I go to Strip just to get this. 

At some point after I finished my yellowtail the other bartender, who's name I cannot remember (which is odd for me), heard me talking about juicing. He perked up and ambushed me with all kinds of juicing facts, figures, recipes, recos on juicers & health stats. He was a bit of a zealot and it was all a little overwhelming, but adorable of him and I appreciated his enthusiasm. He wrote down a simple recipe for me on the back of a coaster. It's funny how from one simple conversation with Motorcycle-guy the other day, now all the sudden juicing is all around me. It's true that what you focus on surrounds you. Time to focus on a single, 40-something, tall, successful, stable, social, funny, good looking, Honest man. That can't be harder to find than a juicer, can it?

Secret Garden

I took the day off to get my toes painted, hit Target & stroll the dreaded grocery store. I love taking weekdays off. The stores are usually dead and traffic is nil. 

When I was sitting in the pedicure chair, eyes closed, chair massaging, daydreaming, I had a flashback to when I was a kid. I couldn't have been more than 6 or 7. We had an old neighbor couple named Mr. and Mrs. Meyer. They lived down a couple houses across the street and I used to go visit them sometimes. I loved going over there. They weren't scary, shriveled up curmudgeons and they didn't smell funny or talk loud like some of the other old people I'd known. They were warm, inviting, friendly, fun, funny. I liked how they let me do things instead of making me watch. It made me feel grown up.

I remember Mr. Meyer and I would pick vegetables from their garden, then I'd bring them into their house and Mrs. Meyer and I would cook them. I remember eating sweet peas right off the vine, breaking the pods open with my teeth and scooping the peas out with my tongue; eating mini cucumbers so crunchy they sounded like carrots when you bit into them; the rhubarb that was so tart it made my fat cheeks pucker every time. I remember licking the tip of the rhubarb stalk and dipping it in the bowl of sugar for each bite. Mr. Meyer would just smile and say, "Atta girl. That's how you do it." But none of those were my favorite. Mrs. Meyer would cook up some purple thing that looked atrocious and humongous. As a kid your taste buds are attached to your eyeballs and I never wanted to eat anything that horrible looking so Mr. Meyer would distract me & call me out to the deck to help him shuck corn. He taught me how to split the husk at the top in fours and tear down in pulses to get the most silk off the stalk. They also had the best lemonade ever. I don't know why it was so good. Maybe it was just the atmosphere of sitting on their big deck under their big oak watching the sun set. Memories are funny things. They're not always chronological. I remember popping into the kitchen when Mrs. Meyer was cooking something. Frying it  I think. It smelled so yummy. I was barely tall enough to see over the stove but it was enough to catch a glimpse of the goodness in the pan. I had no idea what I was looking at as but it was so delicious. To this day I can't recall the actual taste but I remember how happy I felt hearing it cook, smelling it, tasting it, watching Mrs. Meyer watch me watch her cooking it. What I didn't know until probably my 20s was that I was eating eggplant. Eggplant wasn't a big staple in the Zopfi household so I don't think I'd actually knowingly had it again until sometime in college when my friends and I went to Khan's Mongolian Barbecue in Dinkytown. The second I tasted it, I knew that's what Mrs. Meyer had cooked for me all those years ago. 

I don't know what made me think of that when I was getting my toes painted. But I'm glad I did. It was a good memory. Mr. and Mrs. Meyer have long since passed but I think they'd be happy to know I still think about their Secret Garden, fondly. 

Why

Goodbye M

I spent a couple hours in the office today. I had one of my least favorite parts of my job to do today - the dreaded boxing committee conference call. About four weeks prior to every major boxing event we do I set up a weekly conference call with key players from the promotion and the MGM. In this case it was Golden Boy, Mayweather Promotions and us. I loathe this call no matter who the promoter is or who is fighting. I've been trying to ween people off of these weekly calls but to no avail. In my 6+ years I have managed to get them from being in-person weekly meetings in our conference room to a conference call. It was such a waste of time for people to come all the way down to the arena for what could be done on the phone. Hell, this could all be done over email. But whatever. I was more irritated the call lasted so long and I almost missed M leaving. Luckily the car I ordered for him was late and I managed to run out to the porte to give him a hug goodbye before he left. He's such a sweetheart. I'll miss him. He's one of the good guys.

The office is going to be scarce the rest of the week. I put my out of office on around 4.00p today. I need some time away from that place - to regroup, to re-prioritize, to reexamine, to renew - to figure out what I want to do next. I'll prob end up heading in 1 or 2 days out of the next 5 with the dog but I'm leaving my out of office on and turning my CrackBerry to silent. Unless you're 1 of 4 people I actually want to talk to, you can wait until next week. I'm pretty sure the world will keep on spinning.

Motorcycle-guy was telling me at dinner the other night about getting a juicer so I can make vegi drinks. I told him I was trying to lose weight and get healthy again so he suggested I get one. He gave me some pointers on how to make it taste less, well, gross. He's a great cook & a pretty health conscious guy who knows about stuff like this. He said he hasn't had fast food in over 10 years. I don't eat it often, maybe once a month at most, but none in 10 years? Christ, I need a stack of White Castles at the very least once a year! Anyhow, I may go get a juicer tomorrow. Why? It's cheaper than a treadmill and it might be fun. Or it could be a waste of $200 and sit in a cabinet like the waterpic my dentist recommended I get. I predict the juicer will make as big a mess as the waterpic. We'll see. We'll see. 

Amie

I don't understand men. At all. So I'm at work last night waiting for the show to be over. OVER. I was so done with this week that I just want to go home. And it was only 6.30p. Then I get a text and it's Motorcycle-guy. His boys were @ the arena already and he was gonna pop over. He gets to the arena and I go grab him @ the upper turnstiles. Christ he looks good. Dark jeans, untucked dress shirt, clean cut. Holy God thank you. I needed this boost more than I realized. I still remember the first time I saw him backstage at a fight. He was charming, hot and in a suit. I was sweaty, exhausted and a mess. I wasn't even in the mood to flirt but I couldn't help myself. I was drawn to him, not in a weird-Zen way but in a I-feel-really-comfortable-with-you kind of way. Anyhow we were going to just go to Shibuya for sushi but his boys wanted him to come down to Zippy's office to hang first. Initially I was kinda irritated because I wanted some alone time with Motorcycle-guy and we were both STARVING but we went down anyway. And it's a good thing we did. 

There are 5 of us shooting the shit in Zippy's office. At some point Motorcycle-guy picks up one of Zippy's guitars and starts playing it. Like really playing it. He strummed for about an hour. Sometimes we requested songs - just goofing around, sometimes he just played in the background when the others were telling stories. It was one of the sexiest things I've ever seen. His buddy was kinda drunk and kidding around with lyrics and made up his own words to Amie by Pure Prarie League while Motorcycle-guy played. I grabbed a quick video clip of it with my phone but to protect their privacy I won't post it. It was cute. "Amy, what you wanna do? I think I could stay with you, for a while if you drink a champagne with (Motorcycle-guy)." On at least 2 occasions we had some serious 'lingering' eye contact. You know, when it's more than a glance but not as long as a creepy stare. I was completely conscious of this so I made him look away first. I got butterflies. I haven't had those in a long, long time. He has a great smile and a warm, manly laugh. At some point that night I told him his new nickname (yes he knows I call him Motorcycle-guy) was probably going to change to Guitar-guy. I was going to call him Hockey-guy because he plays but I loathe hockey so much I can't bring myself to do it. 

So the other guys were getting drunker in Zippy's office and Motorcycle-guy and I were now ridiculously hungry. It was 9.45p and we needed to be @ Shibuya by 10.00p or we'd be out of luck so we ditched them. We made small talk on the way up to the restaurant. He told me he was headed to Maui and Kauai next week. He'd never been so he was really looking forward to it. I would be too. We got to Shibuya just in the nick of time to be seated & order food. I got my standard salmon sushi. He got a couple of rolls and some sashimi. While we're waiting for our food I asked, "So who are you going to Hawaii with?"

"Remember the Asian girl I told you I was seeing?" After that comment, I stopped listening. I know I continued to participate in the conversation but I completely lost sight of the specifics of what we were talking about. Are you fucking kidding me? I managed to fall for YET ANOTHER guy who has a girlfriend? In his defense (I can't believe I'm writing that) he did say their relationship was ending but that he was still going on this vacation with her and that it would probably be over when they got back. But right then, at that moment, he was not single. I'm such an idiot. Complete and total idiot. 

At some point after the shock of what he said wore off I remember he said he would take me to go try the live lobster (yes, they cut the critter alive in front of you and you eat it while he's still wiggling) at the same joint we had the live shrimp. All I could think of was, "Why the hell would you want to take me to dinner if you already have a girlfriend?" I tried to play it off and be cool like it didn't matter. But it did. It does matter. Here's a guy who is pretty amazing. He has all the character traits that I'm looking for, both superficial and substantial - a guy who texts me, who calls me, who asks me out to dinner… but just wants to be my drinking buddy? Why the hell is he feigning interest? Here's a guy who needs absolutely nothing from me. He doesn't need a ticket hook up; he's in the same business and can get better hook ups than I can. He doesn't need a fuck buddy; he's already got a girlfriend. He doesn't need a friend to hang out with; he's got a ton of pals to play around with. He doesn't need money; he's got enough to retire in 7 years. What? Am I that amazing of a person that he just wants to be near me? Give me a fucking break. 

After dinner we head back to the arena to find the others. We got back to Zippy's office and I left to go to the bathroom. When I got back there were about 7 people in his office so I just stood in the doorway. The funny thing is I noticed one of the guy's wives was sitting on the end of the sofa, Motorcycle-guy was sitting in the middle and the end seat was empty, like he was holding it for me. I'm sure he wasn't but that's what went thru my head. He looked up over at me and smiled. I smiled back and thought to myself, "You're with the wrong Asian chick (Motorcycle-guy)." 

I got a call on the radio for some work bullshit so I left to go deal with it. When I got back, they were all gone. Around 11.30p I received a text from him. "U fed me and then run off? Where'd ya go?"

"Have fun with your girlfriend in Hawaii," I texted back very passive-aggressively. He came right back at me with, "Later Gator!!!"

As I'm writing this I wish I could look up a blog of his experience with me. It would be interesting to read his interpretation of the night, to hear what he thinks of me, to find out what kind of signals I'm giving out. God forbid I actually ask. I wish I had the courage. Or maybe I don't.

Things never work out the way you want them to or the way you think they should - but it would be nice to believe that happy endings do happen. But I guess that's the thing about endings, you won't know they're happy until your story is over.