UPDATE (10.31.07)—Arriving in Las Vegas, and why the “lights” died...‏

TWO AND A HALF weeks in Las Vegas. “Lifelessly by-the-books,” comfy but not “warm.” Vegas is no Asheville—not an iota of resemblance at all. 70s temp is a different dry-humidity, motorists are more moronic than New York City cabbies, fun is synthetic and distant, women are “made up,” but food is better (because there’s more Filipino dishes out here...) and DVDs at public libraries are free.
More significantly though, I don’t worry about bills out here—at least, for the time being. No bills and great food, that kinda save my life here so far. But I am still “blank” as spent Uzi shells.
Me and Marta The Nicer Osborne are wombed in a fairly-cozy apartment building unit on Fairfield Avenue, behind Stratosphere Casino & Hotel on Las Vegas Blvd—where The Strip and downtown’s Fremont is located. Our landlady is an 80-year old Greek matron with a busy mouth that could rival Donald Duck on any given bingo weekend. Most of our neighbors/apartment-mates are casino employees who come and go from work with whatever costume they are in (spaceman, chicken lady, Elvis, magician’s apprentice etc).
We checked out the “gleam and glitter” on our third night—that dancing fountain thingy that gyrates to some pop ditty like “Copa Cabana” and bejewelled damsels and aging dudes on coats-and-ties. Boring. I collected 35 hooker cards from pesky Mexicans who lined up the streets, handing out x-postcards to whoever (including cops)—that’s what I did. Mind you, the four-day road trip from NC to NV was more exciting, peaceful, and cool—despite a little distraction from a tornado’s tailend as we entered the Arkansas border from Memphis. Honestly, I enjoyed our quiet bar night – salmon madrid and margarita – at our stopover at Tecumcari, New Mexico more than my first night at The Strip.
I am still under-the-weather, kinda feverish – not sure if it’s about fatigue or just “unhappiness” – but I am not really feeling well as I write this. We had our necessary systems (phone, cable TV, internet connect) hooked up yesterday, and this little apartment is already equipped with the obligatory peripherals and stuff... the only concern is, I start to get bored. Psychosomatic attack?
I know what’s coming though even before we started the journey—when I am around my family. They are, as ever, willing to feed me or provide for my basic needs (rent, food etc)—but that’d mean, I should allow myself to surrender my “freedom,” while I am here. My elder bro calls me three-four times a day (apart from seeing us once a day), just to check if I cooked the rice correctly, I had taken my vitamins on the right time, and I used the appropriate shampoo for my balding head.
I haven’t really started writing or anything. Haven’t got anything to say about The Indie yet—except that, in case you are submitting articles, please time it for Christmas and New Year readership. Still uninspired. There’re so many things to write but nothing is coming out of my head at this juncture. My main concern right now is how to elude my brother so I could at least have one or two days “breathing time” for myself. I have a new friend, Jeanne, who lives in a huge house with swimming pool and hot tub, two miles away—who offered me reclusion in case I need to run away from my kin—but I am kinda sickly and weak to even make a phone call. Truth is, me and The Nicer have planned to dress up one night and just spend hours inside casinos or take off to LA (we haven’t made up an alibi yet though). (My sis in law Rezy is concerned that I may get so bored, I’d escape back to Asheville so she bought me a classy-looking computer desk.)
So what has been going on with our lives since we “left” Asheville? We have been eating a lot, basically—that’s what we’ve been doing. Tomorrow, I have an appointment with my immigration lawyer. I just saw NBA games, I have seven DVD (library) movies to watch, I am not sleepy.
No beer until I stop taking my Rubitussin, till the coughing is over. Ah, Las Vegas.
--Pasckie
11:57pm. Wednesday.
1922 Fairfield Avenue, Apt 205
Las Vegas, NV 89102
Tel # (702) 629 7124