OLDchella - Part One

Every year, a group of our friends head out to the California desert to attend Coachella. Many of them go every single year, while my husband and I make it out when we can. Sometimes only my husband goes, while other times we've had to cut the trip short. This year, because the planets aligned just right—and my mom was available to watch my son for five days—we were both able to go and stay the entire time.

The theme this year: OLDchella ... when the average age of festival-goers is almost half as yours!

We drove up on Thursday with a couple of friends who flew in from the Bay Area, arriving at the hotel in the late afternoon. This year we stayed at the Marriott Shadow Ridge, sharing a two-bedroom suite with the couple we drove up with. The suite had plenty of space, and our bedroom had a little patio that overlooked a quiet stream.

Most of our group arrived earlier, so the party was already well underway by the time we got there. (Translation: drink up to catch up.) The group always goes out for a big pre-Coachella dinner on Thursday night; this year our reservation was at 8pm at Cliffhouse Grill & Bar in La Quinta, so I had time to drink a couple of Bloody Marys and a glass of wine before we had to pile into the huge van that would take us to and from the restaurant. I had a glass of Zinfandel with my sugar-spiced salmon, followed by coffee and their ridiculously rich Happy Point S'mores for dessert. Between me and two friends, I don't think we even ate half of it. You know you're old when you've got a massive sweet tooth and can't even finish your dessert.

After dinner, the party continued at the hotel in one our friends' suite, where my arm was twisted (with very little resistance) to have a shot of tequila (meh) and Absolut Whipped Vodka (yum). By that point, the room was definitely spinning. I think I switched to water, but I honestly don't remember much after that second shot.

To be continued. Next up, Coachella Day 1.

One Night in Vegas

What was the occasion? Write about the last time you stayed in a hotel.

November 2011. Las Vegas. Hard Rock Hotel.

For the past several years, my husband's annual holiday part has been held at the Hard Rock in Vegas. I almost didn't get to go since my husband's annual "boys trip" to Vegas turned out to be on the same weekend, and he almost took one of his buddies with him to the party. I was bummed. I love going to Vegas - the drinks, the food, and yeah, some gambling too. Thn the idea came up that I could just come out for one night for the party, then my husband would still have the rest of the weekend to spend with his buddies. Yes! But there was another caveat: I had just found out I was pregnant at the time, so that meant no drinking and no heavy partying*. Oh well, I thought, I could still have fun. I love Vegas!

We got there and checked into our awesome suite at the Hard Rock. We chilled for a bit before getting ready for the night. I wore the same dress and shoes from last year's party because...well, I don't really have many dressy things in my closet. Honestly, the annual holiday party is the only time I ever get to dress up. No worries, I thought; people were so blitzed last year that I doubt they'd remember.

The living room portion of our suite.

Behind the TV wall was the lovely, fluffy bed.

Speaking of...that was another reason I really wanted to go last year. I got SO SHITFACED the previous year that I didn't even make it to the party. Halfway through dinner, I was practically passed out at our dining table at Nobu that my husband and a coworker had to escort me back to our room. While my husband partied downstairs, I spent the rest of the night either in bed or with my head in the toilet. Good times.

So between my resolve NOT to repeat what happened at the previous party and the fact that I wasn't allowed to drink any alcohol, I figured I had a very good chance of making it to the party this time! We had dinner at Nobu again, but this time with a different set of my husband's coworkers and their partners. Dinner was lovely, even though I had to sneak a peek at my iPhone a couple of times to check whether this fish or that was safe for me to eat. We hadn't announced the pregnancy yet, so with my fake cocktail, no one was the wiser. After dinner, we headed to the party, which was already in full swing. They played a lot of hip hop and dance, which I managed to get my husband to dance with me for a bit. For much of the party we walked around and chatted with a bunch of other people, as well as sit down, rest, and people-watched. We even went back out into the casino or gamble a bit, but we called it a night fairly early. Tired, but certainly in much better shape than in the previous year.

The next morning, unfortunately, I had to catch an early flight back to LA. While I would have loved to stay longer, all in all, I had a great time and was so glad it worked out.

*As I briefly mentioned in a previous post, we ended up losing the baby in early December. From what my doctors said, the baby had stopped developing around the time of the party. When I should have been nine weeks along, I was only showing as six. Two ultrasounds made it clear that itnhad stopped growing. I'm now fine with the loss, but part of me can't help but wonder if it was anything I did that somehow hurt the pregnancy. I didn't drink, but I did have a few cigarettes. Was it that? Was it the dancing? The heels? The food? The fatigue of travel?? It was a blighted ovum; something, most likely genetically, caused the fetus to stop developing. I know that, but sometimes I still wonder...

Nerve-Wracking

The question from Mama Kat's Weekly Writing Prompts: A case of the nerves! When was the last time you had them and how did you get through it?

The last time? This past Sunday when I had to take my four-year-old to a preschool classmate's birthday party.

See, for as much as I "talk" online, I'm actually a very introverted person. I'm not necessarily shy, I just prefer to do things on my own. But I get very stressed out in social situations where I barely know anyone while everyone else knows one another. I'm not good at going up to people and having genuine chats with them. Sure, I can do small talk, but I'm not a fan of those. So I had been stressed out about this party all week, and by Sunday morning, I honestly felt like throwing up. In the shower, I stood there shaking, even though hot water was pouring down on me. I considered taking an Ativan.

How did I get through it? It just had to be done. If I declined the invitation, I would be doing my son a disservice. As I mentioned in my previous post, my son needs a little help in getting to know his classmates. I should be thankful that we were even invited. I have to cast aside my own fears if it helps my son even in the smallest bit. I left the Ativan in the bottle, took many deep breaths on the drive to the party, and steeled my nerves as best as I could. I'm pretty sure I thought to myself, "It won't be that bad, you'll probably be chasing him down during the entire party. There probably won't even be many instances where you're sitting there by yourself, all pathetic-like."

In the end, it really wasn't that bad. Sure, there was one awkward moment when my son and I sat down to eat, and he decided to sit at a table away from the rest of the kids—but in all honesty, was it such a big deal? Five minutes later, we were back outside to play, then it was time for the cake, and all the kids were able to gather around to sing "Happy Birthday." Yes, I survived, and I know I made it a bigger deal than I should have. (But isn't that what anxiety usually is?)

We have two more preschool birthday parties the next two weekends. On Sunday morning, I'll probably be hyperventilating again in the shower, but a mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do.