Uh oh.

Work has slowed down, finally. It always happens in the summer - this time of year, I'm lucky if I get one day a week. When I called the union to register as being out of work, our call steward said "you and everyone else all of a sudden". So, I'm stuck having to do all those things that I normally don't have time for: taxes, cleaning the closets, any redecorating (I have a painting in my living room that's been there for years - it's recently started to bother me, and I've decided it must go), and really getting those hard-to-reach dust bunnies out from under the back of the couch.

This also means that I have more time to spend with Mr. Movie Star, who's been kind of sulking at my being too busy for him (you think he'd understand, but apparently not).

I went over there last night (to make up for my being in Vegas Monday night), and he was really happy that we got together, but..

I don't even know if I should type this.

The sex was bad.

I don't mean bad like "you freak" bad, it was just lame. He was sort of doing his thing, and not really paying attention to me at all.

I feel like.. I don't know what I feel like. I just sort of lay there for the rest of the night thinking "Why?"

I cut out of there really early and came home. As soon as it gets late enough to call a girlfriend, I have to bounce this (no pun intended) off someone.

Viva Las Vegas!

I've just gotten back from an impromptu trip to Vegas with The Blonde for her 'friend's' (nudge nudge, wink wink) birthday. He said we could crash in his hotel suite, but it turned out that there were about 5 other guys there, and a couple of bimbos that he'd picked up somewhere on the strip..

Eeew.

We ended up getting our own room (in "New York" - complete with screaming baby next door), blowing off his birthday party and just hanging out the next day before we drove back. We went to the shark reef in Mandalay Bay, snuck into the hotel's pool (Mandalay Bay has a terrific pool) and stayed there until it closed (the pool, not the hotel). We had dinner, saw the lions at the MGM Grand, and then headed home Tuesday night.

Due to homegirl driving like a bat out of hell, we got back in about three hours - we left Vegas at a little before 9pm, and I walked into my house at midnight.

Still no internet. Damn you, SBC!

Once again I'm posting from an internet cafe, drinking weak coffee and listening to bad rap while I type (There is good rap. They just don't play it here).

Friday night was fun - James Beach was packed! It's a nice room, although I wasn't really impressed with the food. It was the birthday party of one of the actresses in the short film - as soon as her friends found out that I'd directed, they started buying me drinks - not a bad thing, but I had to do some driving. Nice bunch of folks, and I had a great time!

Went from there up to Mr. Movie Star's house, where I....

Fell asleep on the couch in front of the big, romantic fire - hey, I'd been up since 4:30 am, and even I can only chug so much coffee in a 24 hour period. I'm okay as long as I'm moving, but when I sit down... zzzzzz. I'm sure the alcohol didn't help either.

I feel really bad, as he'd clearly gone to some lengths to create some sort of mood.

I woke up Saturday morning, to a note saying that Mr. Movie Star had to go to a 'photo thing', and would be gone all day, but would call me later that night.

I poked around, jumped in the pool, ran on the beach (damn, I forgot how running on sand works your legs. I can barely walk today, and I have to keep telling people that no, that's not the reason), showered and came back home.

What's really surprising is that Mr. Movie Star actually did call me later that night. He was busy last night, I'm busy tonight (party at The Blonde's - we're looking at the rough cut of the short, so everyone's coming over), so we're going to try to hook up Monday night.

I'm not working Monday, and I'm going to try to get into the doctors so he can look at the foot.