40

Just the smallest beam of light extends the day, closer to the chance to run in light. Testing the limits of the pube through a fragrance lake course covered in snow, the track, 6 am squats. Sidling into a 9-5. Things are the slightest bit easier. Well fed, poorly hydrated. G.O.T. season one complete - magical Khaleesi breasts with wraparound dragons. Finally got the decline letter from Brooks. The word back for entry into Eugene. Making summer plans with relish of eastern cabins & wine, team treks, tropical, anything, all surrounded in feminine. The hospital is full, bell music plays with each birth, everyone full in flu & what happened to 7up & pepto & wet washclothes & bed? 

Early friday morning we drove south, snacks from the market, vanilla latte, a little southbound thrifting, and on to Vegas. Intros & rest before dolling, before makeup & a black dress. Prior to the party, dinner at Kumi over a bottle of Sancerre, with a nose-intoxicating tickle, rolls with pop rocks which sparked from tongue to roof with a closed mouth smile and calamari dipped in jalapeno marmalade. Cocktail hour on floor 62 in the pent of houses, large windows opening onto the strip, televisions on mirrors, gold fabrics and dark wood, champagne, prosecco & beer floating in the tub. A family reunion, old images passed, music turnt up; the mandalay serviced to turnt up louder. After: searching for grease, room service, anything, and passed out with a lone cheeseburger calling whereareyou? 

In the morning, breakfast at Della's with family - a frothy latte, fresh fruit and thick slices of sourdough. Somehow, a treadmill run in a warm room, gorging tlc beside a blonde beauty penned Elena. A cuban sandwich (because, obsessed), thick fries served on a slab, sips of Justin, and football. The Foundation Room reserved for the party, our own theatre for the Hawks. Waitresses in fishnets and breasts to necks, we explored Justin further, deliciously, dressed in code, giving high fives to second-in-line-to-the-Superhawk - another feisty, petite brunette who broke the code to wear her lucky jersey in, celebrating. Sherman. Chancellor. The crotch grab seen around the world. "I'm thankful." I am. 

At the half, we saw the view. What the Foundation is known for, the highest point, remarkable. Smoke sifting in the air, not overly run, just us & pictures & all the family. The Hawks' win. Our theatre dwindling across to the Mix @ Delano where Som-interaction proffered a wine selection and tasting to savor. Devouring the bread baskets of olives and points, his brother creating music by walking through a wall of glass balls, and all the people come running. A generous father feeding us full on thin-skinned chicken and beet salad. We sidled into side doors for cabaret. Falling asleep on shoulder but buxom women in two-piece mesmerizers begin, and she does a split on a thin bar & knows how to walk. Sleepy, do you even remember falling.