It’s tuesday morning, seven twenty three am. Sometimes when I drink too much Red Bull, with or without vodka, I get up insanely early the next morning. I try to avoid both poisons but sometimes they are just too delicious to resist. Yesterday, the Red Bull happened to be with vodka. In fact an impressive amount. I’m sitting at the Starbucks in the Aladin hotel under a speaker playing Motown music too early and too loudly. The line for coffee is all the way out the door and onto the casino floor. What are these crazy people doing up so early?

Vlad the Russian Oracle is in town so we stayed with him last night so he could drive us to the airport. I was going to write about all of our escapades, but I think they’re only interesting in the moment and the retelling would be pretty dull. It was a night of laughing, story telling and drinking among friends. Although I think I called my mom at one point to ask about overdosing on children’s aspirin when I was two or three. This came up because we were drinking “the aspirin drink”. Orange flavored vodka and Red Bull tastes pretty much like liquid St. Joeseph chewables.

Until recently I’ve hated the taste of orange flavoring, soda, tea, orange creamsicles…yuck, yuck and yuck. Although regular oranges, the fruit and juice we’re always good. Ever since I’ve been taking Lexapro my tastes in food seems to be changing. Liking orange flavoring was one unexpected change. Right now I’m drinking a grande hot tea with one bag of orange spice and one bag of mint. Anyway, we were thinking that going to the hospital and having to take charcoal, or whatever happened, I don’t remember, effected my affection for the flavor of baby aspirin. I must have liked the taste at one point to have eaten the whole bottle. I hope I didn’t leave a too slurry or dumb message on her voice mail.

Now, after telling you that I wasn’t going to recount, I’m going to recount:

We also hung out at the open bar in the middle of the Paris casino. It brought back good memories of our wedding. At the time we had a bunch of comp at Paris so we took our friends out for some after wedding cocktails. I loved sitting in the middle of everything in my pretty dress and my “wedding hat” as I like to call it. My normal state of being is pretty low key, but when I feel like being a charming ham, I really get into it. In fact I remember my mom telling me when we went to the hospital for the aspirin incident that I was having a grand old time being the center of attention. Do you think aspirin could be considered a gateway drug?

I’m getting a little woozy. I’m becoming tired and am still a little drunk. Unfortunately, after closing the hotel room door, looking at the number and repeating it in my head several times, visualizing it and vowing not to forget it, I have forgotten it. I will call my sleeping husband to guide me back upstairs and into the shower.

P.S. Cindigo, remember that you moved the car from the Paris parking lot to the Aladin parking lot on the 5th floor next to the elevators. Not that I don’t trust your powers of recollection or anything. I’m just saying.