April 11th - Down and Derby @ The Beauty Bar

Last night's festivities definitely warranted a celebratory WOOOOOOOOO!!

In all honesty, I have always been and will always be a hippie from the Bay Area (Westside represent). I was incredibly saddened by the death of Vegoose. I support and am hopeful for the development of >First Friday. The hippies of Las Vegas need a place to congregaate since we don't have our own Telegraph Avenue. However, with the addition of Down and Derby Las Vegas, our culutural revolution continues.

Down and Derby is a monthy skate party at The Beauty Bar down on Fremont Street. Clad in funky get-ups inspired by the 70s, 80s, or just pure insanity, expressive folks aged 21 and over can imbibe in the bar upfront or rollerskate in the lot out back. If you think that the idea of combining alchohol and skating with adults who probably haven't donned a pair of rollerskates since their were gradeschool age sounds firghtfully dangerous then you are probably right. However, when you're grown and sexy...and a hippie...you pop a multi-vitamin, throw on a blond afro wig, do some squats amd high tail it over to that skate party like you have business.

I had such a fine time! Initially, I was pretty wobbly on those wheels but I took great comfort in knowing that I wasn't the only one. I'd made the incredibly wise decision to drink a soda instead of a martini and thus after a few circuits around the makeshift rink, I was able to comfortably relive the joys of dancing on wheels. The energy of the crowd was amazing and everyone was quite sympathetic of those who took a tumble. Falling as an adult really sucks because you have so much farther to drop. The party went on until 2am but I was done after three hours. I'm no skating spring chicken. To all my fellow skaters, enjoy the photos!

April 9th - Who's Got Jokes @ Luxor

I happen to be a proud subscriber to Vegas Evibe, the "colorful" electronic bulletin that keeps me in the know about interesting things happening around Las Vegas. An alert earlier this week hipped me to a free live taping of Who's Got Jokes going on at Luxor. Hmmm. Let's see. A chance to be entertained by Bill Bellamy for the grand fee of nada? Of course I was going! I rushed over to Luxor to make sure I got a seat since holding a ticket did not guarantee entrance. Gosh, I hate first come, first serve. Give me VIP any day.

Anyhow, I made it there with time to spare and received the honor of being one of the Who's Got Jokes 100. Who's Got Jokes is a comedy competition where comedians compete against each other in two 3 minute sets. Each contestant has to make it through their individual sets without using any potty language AND they have to be funny. If the three judges happen to give them a low score then each contestant has one chance to appeal to the Who's Got Jokes 100 to boost their score. The contestant with the highest combined score moves on to the next round of the competition. At the end of the season, the top contestant is named the overall victor. I have no idea if they win a contract or money or what.

Bill Bellamy hosted along with Rodney Perry and Tommy Ford. Tommy Ford always scared me. I was glad to be sitting in an area of the audience where I couldn't actually see him. There's just something not right about him as if he secretly drinks blood or eats children but that's neither here nor there. Last night's live taping had a parade of local and national celebrities. Since the theme of the show was paying homage to UNLV, Tark the Shark was sitting in the audience. The three judges were LisaRaye (and her incredibly stiff dog), Eric Snow and Kym Whitley. Also, George Wallace stopped by and told some surprisingly funny "yo' mama" jokes.

The four contestants were entertaining. One was very cute with his dimples and locs but he wasn't that funny. The second had the unfair advantage of having competed last season but did have great energy and delivery. I personally felt the third contestant was the funniest, partly because he just looked like a clown. The fourth was a lady. I don't think she came to win. After enjoying my usual martini with extra olives, I was tickled most by Bill Bellamy's impression of 50 cent and the frantic gyrations of one of the shadow dancers. She just kept flinging her hair as if it itched and doing this strange pee pee dance culminating in an uncomfortable disco stance. I was crying. Why don't they ever ask me to shadow dance?

Who's Got Jokes airs every Saturday at 10 p.m. (EST) on TV One. I'm not sure when this episode will air but I'm fairly confident that I made all kinds of obnoxious facial expressions during the taping.

April 8th - Yellowtail Sushi @ Bellagio

I walked into Bellagio and was immediately embraced by the frangance of flowers. Hmmmm! Spring has officially arrived in Las Vegas when the gardens at Bellagio are filled with beautiful, beautiful tulips. It's a honeybee's wet dream for sure. Alas, I was on a networking and sushi-tasting mission. I have been threatening to go to the Tuesday night networking event at Lavo for the longest but never got around to doing it. Now the program has changed to Wednesday nights, the first of which was last night at Yellowtail Sushi at Bellagio. That was fine with me. I've been in a business card exchanging kind of mood and I wanted to try the restaurant out to see if it would appeal to the sushi addict in my life (aka Sweets).

Yellowtail is a gorgeous bar , lounge and restaurant positioned with a view of the famous Bellagio fountatins. It has a ritzy vibe but manages to be comfortable and the sushi isn't ridiculously priced. Tonight's networking event offered free samples of some of the items on the menu. There was a shrimp tempura dipped in some sort of lemon flavored concoction and something that resembled a tuna pizza. I had a ridiculously small glass of plum wine but the staff was extremely pleasant and not too naked. It's definitely a place I would revisit.

While there, I made the acquaintance of Jan and Jim. They have been residents of Las Vegas for three years and were very impressed with the business climate. They made a habit of attending networking events and enjoyed taking day trips to the many hidden jewels throughout Southern Nevada and Death Valley. They mentioned the oasis at the China Ranch Date Farm and a little known biker bar in Mountain Springs. I liked them immediately which is probably why I ended up telling them my life story. Much like my fellow Phenomenal Women Las Vegas, they had really good energy and were genuinely eager to make a connection. However, what I enjoyed most was the fact that there was absolutely no mention made about the state of the economy.

Yes, we're in the thick of it and it's probably going to get worse before it gets better. However, we are the masters of our own fate. We can be victims and watch our worlds tumble around us...or we can remain strong, take action, seek out opportunities and keep on truckin.' Last week, I brought a friend to a networking event whose aunt was looking for a condo to purchase. At that the networking event, there just happened to be a number of realtors present and one of those realtors just happened to have a condo for $35,000. Coincidence? Well, I don't believe in coincidences. I do believe that there are answers for every questions and resolutions for every issue. They're usually found in other people and all one has to do is ask.

Frankly, I'm about ready to do something crazy or run into some nutty people or something. All this sanity and reason of late is wayyy to mature for this thirty-something.

March 31st - Panevino Ristorante

Let's face it. Everyone's major concern is the economy. Will my business survive? Will I keep my job? Will I be able to hold on to my property? Can I sustain my quality of life? Although, I swear on a Friday night in Las Vegas, one would never know that money was such a major concern. Maybe that's why I was out last Friday and I'll be out again this Friday. It's nice to not worry. It's nice to just live. It is also wise to seek the wisdom and company of others. Doing so over a couple of $5 Ketel One martinis is a great idea. Thus, I did just that this past Tuesday with my fellow Phenomenal Women Las Vegas.

So there we were, inside the stylish confines of Panevino's Ristorante, sitting around eating pizza and drinking martinis. A trio was covering Stevie Wonder and Bill Withers. The sun was making its final descent in the western sky. I believe the technical term for such simple pleasures is networking. Really, it's communing. It's sharing your life experiences, doubts, anecdotes, jokes, observations and energy with people who are trying to reach or perhaps have already arrived at goals similar to your own. Many may complain about Las Vegas being a transient community, a city full of strangers, but I've come to disagree. Never have I encountered so many opportunities to get tipsy with other people. Never have I encountered so many people eager to share their personal stories and business cards with each other. The truth is that the residents of Las Vegas are a very pleasant people representing the great melting pot of our nation and I wasn't slipped a twenty by any of the Phenoms to say that.

We discussed everything from experiences in New Orleans to the housing market to Michelle Obama's popularity to the antics of a man badly in need of lessons in chivalry to the key to making valuable connections at networking events. To all my business-minded people, here are a few tips....

1. Get out. Be seen. Shake hands. Have a glass in your hand. People see you at a few events in a month and suddenly they think they've known you for the past 20 years. It's amazing. You drink with someone once (even if it's only water or cranberry juice)and you'll be surprised how much they are willing to share with you. It's kind of sweet. Mortals are pretty lovely.

2. Go where the wealth is. Last Friday, I went to a National Society of Black Engineers party because those cats have money and were determined to have a good time come hell or high water. There are announcements for events in your local business publications that spell out exactly who's going to be there. You'd be surprised how many of these types of events are cheap and/or free.

3. Follow up. Follow up. Follow up. If you say you're going to email information to the folks you meet, then do it. If you suggest that you do lunch soon, do it. So many people flake or never follow up ever again. I don't think they're hungry enough. Be hungry. Do what you say you're going to do.

I'm off my soap box now. Shots out to the Phenoms and Panevino's.

March 27th -Party Hoppin' @ The Palms

Oh love. Sweet love. A veritable kryptonite to the revelling mindset. So much so that since my return from Atlanta I've been in bed at 9:00pm and absolutely selfish with my out and about experiences. Thank goodness for party-minded friends reminding me that the National Society for Black Engineers (NSBE) is having its convention this weekend. How could I stand to miss something like that? A sea of right-brained, y chromosome-possessing, brown individuals with disposable income  all hungry for the sin that Las Vegas has to offer? I can't stay at home on a Friday night with that calling! I took a three hour nap starting at 5:30pm, consulted with my friend Lisa at 8:45 pm, selected my attire at 9:30pm, watched The Soup at 10:00pm and was out the door at 10:30pm.

N.E.R.D's You Know What was the first selection on my shuffle and I nearly turned around and went back to the crib when Jill Scott's Crown Royale played (it's so about you, Sweet Georgia Lover Man). But Dee Lite's Groove is in the Heart saved the evening and had me in a bouncy mood as I parked at The Palms. I adore being that mysterious lone lady dressed in black, hips swinging, CFM's strapped on tight, striking across the casino floor. Looking at nothing and seeing everything. I had no idea what I was going to do but not a soul would've ever known. I left my cell phone at home. I didn't see Lisa anywhere and there was a hell of a crowd at Rain. I had no idea which line to stand in. I had no idea whether or not I would be on the guest list. I had no cash money on my person. I just stood in there as if I owned the place and smiled. I was going to get in somehow. This is my city!

About twenty minutes later, after making the acquaintance of Cynthia, Brittany (Britney? Brittanie?) and Robert who just happened to be standing behind me in line, I discovered they had room for one more person on their guest invitation. The dear people were in town visiting from Valencia, California. They'd driven in for three days of partying. (What recession?) I told them what I knew about the other clubs at The Palms and urged them to return to Las Vegas in the warmer months. Afterwards, I received a hand stamp and an all access pass to all of The Palms' hot spots. Sweet.

The last time I was at Rain was for the MTV VMAs. You know the one where Britney Spears made her rather flatulent return singing about giving her more? I walked through the hot pink sequined corridor and spilled into the club. There was a drove of people in there dancing to rather nervous music. I made my way to the bar all ready to charge a vodka and cranberry when the gentleman to my right asked me what I was drinking. He gave me a disapproving look when I told him and insisted on ordering me the same of what he was having which was some sort of shot with a coke chaser. Fine. Bottoms up! Stuff tasted like hot rot. I shook hands with my drink sponsor. Olisa was his name. I don't know what it is with me and African men but it's like I put out an African-attracting pheromone or something. Olisa was Nigerian born and Igbo just like my Sweet Georgia Love and was one of those engineers with NSBE that had nothing better to spend his money on than drinks for my cute ass. We danced. He was rather clingy and I couldn't believe I was outdancing this guy. His rhythm had been Americanized away. Shame.

Anywho, Rain is something else. At one point this apparatus suspended from the ceiling shot out flames above our heads making it ridiculously hot on the dance floor. I decided I never wanted to be anywhere near Rain if that thing happened to malfunction. Olisa thankfully found some reason to get the hell away from me. There's no point in coming to Las Vegas and handcuffing some stranger just because you bought her a drink. Empower your pimp hand, Dog! Anywho, something told me to dance by myself for a bit when the fool standing next to me decided to make it rain...in Rain. How lovely. He didn't just toss up ones. He tossed fives, tens and twenties. I scored twenty-five and promptly left. I was not about to get elbowed or knock out someone's teeth over free-floating cash.

I went on to Playboy and Moon just for kicks recalling the antics of Eamon Springall and the wonderment of the electric dance floor. NSBE's were all about mouths open, hands in the air presumably because they just didn't care. I snapped a picture of this guy wearing the silliest suit I've seen in a bit (ain't freedom grand?) and then used some of my rained money to buy a medium fry from McDonald's. Ah! What a wonderful first night back in Sin City. Tonight, unless plans change at the last minute, I'm doing Whiskey Sky at Green Valley Ranch....

March 13th - M Resort

This time of year in Las Vegas, the temperature flirts with the idea of giving way to sizzling summer heat. The sandals in my closet beckon me. The desire to frolic about town with shoulders and legs bared is overwhelming. I love the heat of Las Vegas. In spite of the arid daylight degrees sucking all of the moisture from my body and downright molesting my hair, I hungrily welcome the Las Vegas nights.

When sun gives way to moon and temps drop to a refreshing 90-something from a daytime high of 100-something, this 30-something rushes out to the nearest pool party, poolside concert, or patio gathering to let the night air swallow me right on up. Visiting the newly established M Resort at the southern most end of Las Vegas Blvd awakened the dormant summer girl in me. Specifically and shamelessly targeting adults aged 30-55, M Resort gives us the wonderful gift of Villaggio Del Sole Pool and Entertainment Piazza. Oh, it's something reminiscent of an Egyptian dream overlooking the expanse of the valley. I must have spent about fifteen minutes just walking around those pools imagining myself rocking out to a Gnarls Barkley concert while sipping a sweet cocktail. On Friday night however, the desert breeze was whipping around fiercely and so I made my way back inside thinking three words.... I'll be back.

Inside, the casino floor was bustling with activity. The place has just been open for a week, but their extensive ad campaign and big ass blimp floating around in the sky made it very difficult for curious locals to stay way. I'd heard that the casino was terribly understaffed and that was evident from the thirty minutes it took simply to place an order for my signature vodka martini with extra olives. No worries. I settled into a barstool at Ravello Lounge next to an older gentlemen named Charles who was visibly annoyed at the lounge entertainment. Totally blogworthy.

I guess from time to time, we locals tend to forget about the fabled Las Vegas lounge act. We're usually rushing through a casino to get to a Cirque Du Soleil show or a concert or a party. We tend to ignore the tourists drunkenly simulating dance in front of an ambiguously talented cover band. I firmly believe the only requirements for scoring a lounge gig is good looks and no fear. Alcohol consumptionm, on the part of the audience, totally takes care of the rest. Thus before me at the Ravello Lounge was a band that closely resembled The Brady Bunch, dressed in white, covering tunes made popular by Earth, Wind & Fire, Morris Day and The Time, and Rick James. Charles sat next to me rolling his eyes so hard I thought he was going to fall right out of his tool. He looked at the expression on my face believing me to mirror his feelings of the band sucking. Actually, I thought that the musicians played very well and I was wondering what I needed to do to petition one of these casinos to let me dance around on stage singing off key for four straight sets.

Charles was as a promoter of sorts. Hailing from Northern California, he had retired from a full time career of coordinating concerts and performances of the R&B and Soul persuasion. Now, as a four year Henderson resident, he was attempting to entice M Resort to have acts comparable to Tower of Power perform out on that luscious piazza. You see, Charles had successfully arranged for sold-out showings at such venues as Eastside Cannery and The Orleans and he was totally frustrated that M Resort would hear none of his ideas for entertainment. Charles felt the M Resort stood to lose out on a solid audience of 60+ year olds. He was sure that if his agemates came to hear The Brady Bunch, they would collect both their gambling dollars and their air tanks and promptly leave. Poor Charles.

I didn't want him to sit there growing increasingly upset especially after a collection of the target demo gathered in front of the stage to jeck back and forth to a cover of Sweet Home Alabama. As carefully as I could, I explained to Charles the difference between the crowd at Eastside Cannery and M Resort. They weren't discriminating against him or good entertainment. Rather, they were seeking a very specific audience not unlike that which frequents Red Rock Casino and Green Valley Ranch. I finished my martini and shook Charles's hand. I'm pretty sure he called me a few kinds of assholes as I walked away. Afterall, I had just rained on his Chi-Liting parade.

There was no reason to stay any longer. After slapping the drummer a hi-five, I made my way through the casino floor towards the parking lot. I love how casinos decorate with varying textures and patterns. Even when the place is devoid of bodies, it still manages to look alive. Perhaps, after I score a lounge-singing gig I can sit in on a few color scheme meetings for the next new resort.

March 11th - UNLV Jazz Ensemble II @ Clark County Library

Last weekend, I barhopped my way around Southern Nevada like some kind of restless, carousing nomad. At The Leadership Henderson Alumni Reception, I learned the secrets of nightclub bouncing in an interesting conversation with a veteran of the trade. At Ladies' Night at PT's, I met up with Melissa the Skydiver and scored a free g-string from a couple of interestingly attired representatives of a store called Strings. At Tao, Melissa was offered someone's virginity in a totally inappropriate and roundabout way and I had a drink spilled on me but we both had a great time on the crowded dance floor moving to 2 Live Crew's Hoochie Mama (Parental discretion is advised. Hump wit it). After Tao, I went on to Yardhouse and ate perhaps the worst bowl of clam chowder ever. That was all on Friday night.

On Saturday, I watched men, women and children get their heads shaved at MacMullen's Irish Pub where they were holding the St. Baldrick's Foundation event to benefit childhood cancer research. I was truly amazed at all the money the event raised. (What a really cool example of a great fundraiser, Nonprofits! )

Yes, Las Vegas is good for the restless soul but I was hungry for something more on which I couldn't quite put my finger. I thought of New Orleans, my initial foray into 24 hour living. Bible study followed by Hip Hop Night on Thursdays. Open mic followed by Latin Dance Night on Fridays. Cruising the art museum in City Park before hanging out on Bourbon Street on Saturdays. Snug Harbor, The Red Room, The Funky Butt. I needed to hear some jazz. Therefore, I got on my computer and did a search for jazz performances in Las Vegas. I discovered that the UNLV Jazz Ensemble II would be performing free of charge at the Clark County Library. Last night, I was there early and excited to hear perhaps a swingin' quartet with maybe a guest saxophonist from the east coast. Something like what I would've heard on UNO's campus at The Sandbar. My mouth was watering....but that wasn't what I got.

This is Las Vegas and after regarding the stage, I realized that the wise guys who used to run this town had a tradition of loving the big band variety of jazz. I can dig it. Of late, Frank Sinatra's Fly Me to The Moon has been in heavy rotation on my Ipod. (Is it just me or does Frank look totally blitzed in this video.) I stayed for six songs out of an eleven song concert. It was cool. The audience was probably made up primarily of parents of the student performers but some jazz fans were there as well. The band played very beautifully together and were quite supportive of the young soloists, bless their hearts. It wasn't New Orleans jazz but then again what else is? What I liked most is that this concert offered a female trumpeter AND trombonist. I've never seen that down south. UNLV has a spring concert series and I'm sure that I will attend in the future. After all, it's good to support our local students and get some culture out of the deal.

March 6th - Skydive Mesquite

Throwing myself out of a flying plane? I think I missed that train about five years ago. But that doesn't stop me from being totally curious about the experience. Thank goodness for the bravery of friends...

Skydiving Mesquite.....I’ve wanted to go skydiving for as long as I can remember, so when it came time to decide what to do for my birthday this year, I figured now is as good a time as any to make it happen. Although I knew I wanted to go skydiving, I also knew I was afraid of jumping from heights. (One of my least fond memories to this day is when my high school swim coach made me compete on the high dive last minute for our diving team.) I had already been indoor skydiving at Las Vegas Indoor Skydiving had a blast, so I knew I had to do the real thing.

Before I could chicken out, I called the highly recommended Skydive Mesquite to make an appointment. My birthday is March 3, so I made my appointment for Friday, March 6, at 3 p.m. Three is my lucky number, so I was pleased when I realized the date (03-06-09) and time of my flight were all divisible by three. My chances of surviving looked good. After securing my appointment, I clicked through to Skydive Mesquite’s YouTube videos. One in particular, "Hit and Chug" caught my attention. Hm. I wonder if we’ll chug a beer when we land. I could probably use a drink after purposely jumping out of a perfectly good plane.


After work on March 6, I set out with my mom and my friends Megan, Nicole and Jenny for Mesquite. My boyfriend Marek was running late, so he drove up separately.We arrived at Skydive Mesquite late, but Brad didn’t seem to mind. Brad, who would be my tandem jumping partner, looked the part of a skydiver. He was tall and good-looking with tanned skin and tan lines in the corners of his eyes. Turns out looks weren’t deceiving. He made his first jump at age 16, and he’s now 44. He estimated he’s done around 5,000 jumps. I decided I would be pretty safe with Brad.


When it was time to go, we practiced first. We got into the tiniest plane I’d ever seen in person. While it was still on the ground, Brad instructed me: "When I say ‘Left leg out,’ put your left leg out. (I did.) When I say ‘Right leg out," put your right leg out. (Easy enough.) Then squat down with your arms crossed in front of your chest." I wobbled. I’m supposed to do this 10,000 feet above the ground?!?

Brad reminded me several times how to position my body as we freefell. "When we’re freefalling, keep your hands like you’re being held up. Head back. Feet at my butt."

Got it. I decided not to worry when the plane didn’t start right away and was reassured when Brad said he’d flown it this morning. No big deal – I’m sure it happens all the time … On the flight up to 10,000 feet, conversation was scarce since Brad was attached to my back, and the plane was pretty loud. I was marveling at the incredible view and how unbelievably high we were when Brad took out the video camera he’d been filming us with.


"Alright, we’re about half way. How do you feel?" he asked cheerfully. We’re only half way up?!? I gulped.


"If I were going to panic, would I have done it by now?" I asked him.


"I don’t know," he responded. Thanks, Brad. A few minutes later, it began to get cold. Really cold. I could see my breath. Under my jumping outfit, I was only wearing a tank top and jeans. I began to wish I’d spent more time planning my apparel. It also looked like a storm might be coming in. Well, I thought, If something happens to the plane, at least I’m already attached to a man wearing a parachute. Although I knew we had to open the door of the plane to jump out of it, I was jolted when he opened it. It just seems unnatural to open the door of a plane mid-flight. It was time. He reminded me again how to position my body when we freefell. Left foot. Holy crap! Right foot. HOLY CRAP! Crouch. Fold arms. Lean. We were freefalling before I knew it. We flipped over. I hadn’t put my body in the right position. Over the wind I could practically hear Brad’s eyes rolling. I fixed my arms and put my legs where I assumed his butt was.


Megan had warned me that when her boyfriend went skydiving, his mouth was dry, so he was making funny faces throughout his entire fall. Her other friend, on the other hand, drooled everywhere. I tried to keep my face as relaxed as I could falling toward the ground at 120 miles per hour.The freefalling was exhilarating, and the view was beautiful. I was surprised I wasn’t scared. Just excited. I felt free. Suddenly Brad pulled the parachute and we practically halted in the air. OUCH! I was thrilled to be safely strapped in, but Good God that harness on my thigh was tight! We lightly floated toward the ground, and Brad taught me how to steer the parachute. By this time, I could hardly feel my fingers, so I was relieved I kept hold of the handles.
I jerkily guided us through the sky. I could see all of Mesquite and much of the surrounding land. It was wonderful!


Eventually, Brad took over the steering, and shortly afterward we slid to a halt in the gravel by the bright yellow flag that had beckoned us from the sky. I made a mental note to keep my mouth shut next time I’m sliding through the dirt. Success!


Brad handed me a "Certificate of Incredible Achievement." It reads: This is to certify, to all who do not believe, that Melissa Rothermel has intentionally and successfully jumped from an aircraft while in flight thousands of feet above the Earth thus joining the elite group of humans who actually do the things they have always wanted to do instead of just talking about them while sitting on the couch watching TV. Sweet.

I selected "You Shook Me All Night Long" by AC/DC and "I Want to Get Away" by Lenny Kravitz to accompany my DVD. And then it was over. To celebrate, we decided to meet up with Outpast30 Lady at PTs Pub on Eastern and St. Rose Parkway for ladies night …


Thanks, Ms. Melissa! Boy, she's a trooper. She jumped out of a plane and then went on to barhop with me until about 1:00 in the morning. Truly an adventurer after my own heart. Of course, the barhopping will be reported on soon...

March 6th - Buffalo Wild Wings

I'm starting to think that those bankers who are throwing lavish parties with our tax money may have a point. In times of economic uncertainty, the last thing people want to do is stay at home simmering in their own special stew of discontent. They want to party or at least forget about their worries for a moment. They also seek to find answers in others. When one attracts people (say prospective customers) to a party and gets a few drinks in them, those people will spend money. They'll feel good. They'll eat a little. They allow themselves to fantasize about happy times and nice surprises.... Oh goodness, let me shut up before I anger one or more of my beloved readers...

All I know is that last night Buffalo Wild Wings on Horizon Ridge and Horizon out in Henderson was offering three hours of free Miller Lite and Tyku Vodka and giving away VIP passes to The Miller Lite March Hoops Viewing Party at The Palms on March 21st (courtesy of Spyonvegas.com). Buffalo Wild Wings already offers 60 cent boneless wings on Thursdays, so attendance for me and my fellow Imagine girls, Megan and Melissa (happy now?), was a no brainer. This notion also rang true with several other locals because the place was packed. In combination with a live broadcast remote from local radio station, Xtreme 107.5, the wing joint was a verifiable hit.

What's the relevance here? If you own a restaurant, beer or pub, there is no reason for you to be losing business. In fact, any business with a physical location and/or showroom can keep hope alive. With a little creativity and a reasonable investment you can attract, retain and raise customers even in our lovely recession. Why? Because folks want to be out, about and around other people and they want to do so while drinking. Now, I'm in no way encouraging alcoholism but, truth be told, enjoying a libation or two is the American way. In fact, according to the MADD 2001 annual report, the bill for a celebration party for the 55 drafters of the US Constitution was for 54 bottles of Madeira, 60 bottles of claret, 8 bottles of whiskey, 22 bottles of port, 8 bottles of hard cider, 12 beers and seven bowls of alcohol punch large enough that "ducks could swim in them."

If you're in Las Vegas, contact your local liquor distributor and see if there are any opportunities available for them to sponsor an event at your establishment. Contact your local radio station and see what kind of remote deals they're offering so they can do some advertising on your behalf. Hop online and start working your network of friends and associates. (If you're not on Facebook, Twitter, and/or MySpace, what the hell?) Once you're party is in full swing, you'd better be taking pictures like photography is going out of style and then using those pictures to further promote your business as a hot community destination. Why do I feel like I should be selling this information? Perhaps it's because you can find the same kind of consulting wisdom at Imagine Marketing of Nevada where I happen to work during the day. (As if you didn't know that would be coming. It's what I do, Baby!)

Anywho, hosting a party means building relationships. In a relaxed setting, you get to know what makes your friends, coworkers and potential business partners tick. You share hot buttons, hopes and dreams. You find that you have more in common than you previously thought. You find inspiration and a lasting human connection. You find life.

I need to get back to my day job. Please tune in this weekend for more musings and reasons to blackmail me. Tonight, I'll be attending the Leadership Alumni Reception at 5pm, going to PT's Ladies' Night (ladies drink free!!!) at 7pm and then back to Tao for open bar from 9-11. Saturday, you'll find me at the St. Baldrick's fundraiser (benefitting children with cancer) watching my coworker's head get shaved.

Toodles!

March1st - NASCAR Shelby 427 @ Las Vegas Motor Speedway

On Saturday night, I did my fair share of volunteering at an event that will be televised on ABC's 20/20 this coming Friday. It was the The Power of Love Gala 2009 to benefit The Lou Ruvo Brain Institute. Since my grandmother suffers from Alzheimer's I was glad to take part in support of this organization and I encourage others to volunteer their time in support of any cause that is near and dear to them.

I wish I could say that I was excited to be in the presence of national and local celebrities such as Hilary Duff, Teri Hatcher, Danny Devito, Kenny Guinn (Ex Governor of Nevada) and Lorenzo Fertitta (majority owner of UFC) but I wasn't. After all, they are just people. While I am thankful for the money these people donated, I believe that real stars are those individuals that truly illuminate our lives and help guide us through the dark mysteries of this human experience. After retiring Saturday evening, I excitedly anticipated going to the Shelby 427 at Las Vegas Motor Speedway with one of the stars that I work with. (Thanks for coming with me, Ms. Megan.)

A little history on NASCAR. It was born out of friendly competitions during Prohibition between moonshine runners just for the honor of boasting the fastest car. Anyone remember the Dukes of Hazzard? Since it's formation in 1948 it has become a marketing monster. It's the second most popular professional sport in the United States following the National Football League and that was obvious from the crowd gathered in the stands on Sunday. So, what does this have to do with someone like me?

My appreciation of cars goes back to Saturdays spent with Dad working on the old grey Charger in the garage. We'd go back and forth to Kragen like ten times to get a tool for that or a gadget for this. I remember the grease that would accumulate on his hands and the blue coveralls zipped over his clothes. The way he would say "doggone it" when something wasn't working out quite the way he imagined. My dad, an Oklahoma native, was also a NASCAR fan and I could just hear him saying "woo-weee" after getting a look under the hood of one of those competing beasts. Those cars are truly mechanical wonders what with the way they roar around the gigantic track in thirty seconds or less.

Contrary to popular notion, NASCAR is not just celebrated by Southern men with sun burned necks. Walking into the event on Sunday, I saw both men and women. I saw people hued black, brown, yellow and white. I saw small children and senior citizens. I saw America. As the National Anthem was performed by the stars of The Jersey Boys and Thunderbirds flew overhead, the roar of the crowd was wondrous. Gotta love this country.

As a marketing professional by day, I saw tons of dollar signs. Beneath the bleachers, booths offered every kind of artery clogging delicacy one could think of from turkey legs to pulled pork sandwiches. How convenient of Tums to be giving out free samples! Liquor was consumed as if it were going out of style and thus one of the biggest attractions was a Jack Daniel's tent. Lamar Billboards (thanks for the tix, Suzy) were situated between the first and second turns of the track. During the race, the cars travelled around the track 285 times over the course of approximately three hours. Thus, both the billboards and car wraps provided a ridiculously long commercial for brands such as Miller Beer, M&M's, Lowe's, 3M, GoDaddy.com, DuPont and UPS. NASCAR is marketing genius.

For car enthusiasts there is something romantic about the roar of engines and the love of American brands such as Ford and Chevrolet. Watching the careful and quick choreography of the pit crew is also something to behold. However, I believe that all those fans tolerate the inhalation of oil fumes and tire debris smudging their faces for one thing only..... the potential car wreck. Every time one of those machines crashed into a wall or another car, the crowd was on their feet to watch the undercarriages glow with flames and the miraculous manner in which racers narrowly avoided running into a car careening across the track. It's amazing AND patriotic!

Congrats to Las Vegas racer and driver of the M&M's car, Kyle Busch. Why do I have a sudden taste for chocolate?

February 27th - Olympic Gardens / Tao @ The Venetian

Let me just remind everyone that I live in a place nicknamed Sin City and I am an adult. As an avid observer of the human experience and an electronic scribe to boot, I feel it is my duty to provide a mature, civilized and informative report on what goes on in a Las Vegas strip club. It is also my right to see an almost completely naked man pop that thang. Besides, this may turn out to be my most read blog besides the one about the dude showing me a picture of his goods on his cell phone. (See Flashback - Sam's Town Live.)

Anywho, it's not like I planned to go to Olympic Gardens. I decided to hang with my girl, Tanisha, and she told me that we were going to Tryst at Wynn. When I arrived at her house for the usual pregame cocktail the plans had been changed. Olympic Gardens is a partially nude strip club where ladies perform downstairs and gents perform upstairs. We were going to see the men. Afterwards, we would dance it up at Tao at The Venetian. What the hey.

I fully expected to see people walking into Olympic Gardens smiling in anticipation of fleshy wishes and lascivious dreams, but as I regarded the faces of other attendees there seemed to be varying expressions of determination, confusion, guilt, relief and shock. Downstairs, girls strolled around in bikinis and lingerie with little purses for their tips. They didn't look like they were at a party. They looked like they were at work... I guess because they were. Two girls lazily slinked around poles on stage as if they were extremely drowsy. One removed her top. Implants. The curious thing is only a few men seemed to really be paying any attention to them. What the heck were they there for? Perhaps I didn't give myself enough time to observe. After all, I wasn't there to seem some chick dance around naked. I could do that at home in the mirror.

Upstairs we went. It wasn't nearly as crowded as downstairs. Female spectators sat all around in party attire while a couple of extremely fit and tone men jerked around on the stage. Why can't built men dance? It seems like good muscle tone would promote dancing abilities. Not so. It was more humorous than erotic. I was tempted to point and laugh but I didn't want to bruise homeboy's ego. Besides, he had an extremely impressive rear end. It was kind of pretty. We hadn't even sat down for three minutes before a stripper came over trying to charm us into buying a lap dance. He was cute. We took a couple of pictures with him and then ordered drinks. We moved to the seats around the main stage to watch some guy dressed up as a marine. Again nice body but the most ridiculous pelvic thrusting I've ever seen. He pulled girl after girl on stage and pretty much slapped them all in the forehead with his jewels. If he tried that with me I was going to have to alert the authorities.

A Latino gentlemen teamed up with our first eager earner to entice both Tanisha and me. As he was giving me a rather enjoyable lap dance, I learned that his name was Xavier and that he had missed a day shaving the back of his thighs although his chest was extremely smooth. I should have asked how uncomfortable he was wearing those thong underwear. That dude charged me twenty bucks for the equivalent of heavy petting and assistance in helping me stretch my right leg behind my head. Thanks, Xavier. What a rip. I went to the bathroom and had a conversation with another lady who was really happy about the opportunity to objectify men. I was glad for her but personally thought this was kind of ridiculous. I've never met any man who wasn't ready, willing and able to be objectified for free. Watching a bride-to-be girlfriend get ravished by a male exotic dancer at a bachelorette party is fun. However, to just up and go to a strip club to pay to have some dude grind on you is rather silly. I guess that's why the room wasn't that packed. Don't get me wrong. If you're curious about going to a strip club just do it and get it over with. It's pretty interesting and it's so grown up. I suggest taking a date.

On we went to Tao. When standing in line at Tao, there are these pools of water with rose petals floating atop. From time to time, girls come to sit in them. We tried to ask them if the water was cold but we were instructed by some high bouncer to not say anything to them. Dang. We gained entry, took another potty break and then made our way to one of the dance floors. It was dreamlike. There were droves of people there. The ceiling was so high and the room had this eerie red glow. I didn't understand why people were packed onto the dance floor and just standing there. While travelling across the floor to the other side, I stopped in the middle to contemplate. What the hell was going on and what wet gelatinous matter was falling from the ceiling? Some of it got into my left eye and blinded me for a sec. WTF! Tanisha kept on pulling me across the floor. I turned back to try to figure out what it was and why it was only falling in that area of the dance floor. It looked like fake snow. What did it all mean?!?!?

Went to the next dance floor and made my home there dancing with this really excited guy named... I don't know what the hell his name was. He told me when he bought that beer that I should not have consumed in combination with the vodka I'd had but I forgot. It took me the longest to get rid of him. I hate when guys do that. I typically want to dance with more than just one person when I go out unless I encounter a really good partner. This dude needed serious help in the rhythm department and was extra grabby. I should have kept that twenty I gave to Xavier and paid this dude to go away.

I have no idea what time Tanisha and I stumbled out of Tao giggling and heckling passersby. The last thing I recall before falling asleep in the car was informing this guy named Andy that I was not going to his room at Palazzo. These tourist dudes are crazy. I should have thrown that shot he bought me right in his face.

February 26th - Top 40 Under 40 @ Blue Martini

Sweet Jesus, I'm so glad I'm not sick anymore. Due to some alien virus, I missed two parties last week along with several other opportunities to traipse around town. Nevertheless, those sick days made the events of today all the more sweeter. Life is beautiful and this day tasted a bit like perfection. This morning, I woke up, feeling brand new, I jumped up...worked out, did my sprint, went to a job that I love, worked with people I thoroughly enjoy spending my day with, got my hair "did" on lunch, spoke to my sweet Georgia lover on the phone, took part in the planning of a wonderful community-building event called the Nevada Women's Day of Service and then I went out! Hallelujah!

Sure, I've been to Blue Martini scores of times (see January 16th ). It's always so crowded, I swear the Fire Marshall is on the take. However, Blue Martini is a must do for all local business people and is definitely a suggested destination for any regular visitors to our fine valley. Tonight, in particular, was a young business person must. Anyone under the age of forty who didn't make it truly missed out on a networking bonanza.

In Business Las Vegas (IBLV) is a local business publication distributed weekly by Greenspun Media Group. Each year, IBLV hosts a series of events recognizing the go-getters of the Las Vegas. The parties are typically thrown in the finest of nightlife locations with complimentary cocktails and hors d'oeuvres. One of the most popular events is the Top 40 Under 40 which honors forty young professionals under the age of forty specializing in kicking ass and taking names in business. As if I wasn't going to be there. OutPast30 Lady rolled in there five deep. Shots out to my peeps at Imagine Marketing. Congrats to Top 40 Under 40 honoree and OutPast30 reader, Rebecca Fay. Big ups to Tom Fay, Director of Henderson Libraries. (Folks, Tom reads my blog too.)

To anyone who thinks that professionals are too elite to hang with, think again. While waiting at the bar, I overheard a group of four discussing how proud they were to repeatedly mispronounce words like "quesadilla" and "fajita." I overheard the distinctly high-pitched giggle of acute intoxication. I witnessed professionals piling their plates sky high with shish kabobs and shrimp as if they were at a casino buffet. And finally, after the ceremonies were over and a quartet called Fat Strat hit the stage to cover Beatles tunes with their electronic string instruments, I saw the mass exodus of professionals who were no longer interested in drinking Patron ...especially if it wasn't free.

Business networking is good times with a room full of people from all backgrounds just trying to get their piece of the pie and have a cool time doing it. It's not stuffy, condescending banter. It's real people just exhaling and trying to make sense of this crazy capitalist machine we live in in the company of fellow cogs. I had a wonderful night. My only complaint was when Titties McGee behind the bar refused to acknowledge the fact that I needed another drink. I had to resort to wacky waving infatalable arm flailing in order to get some service.

Singles ladies, I just want to tell you something. Don't listen to Beyonce. No disrespect to my fellow bootyshaker but she's always talking about enticing men in some nightclub. Whatever. Get yourself to these networking events. Just look at the picture to the left. This a fine example of the smorgasbord of gainfully employed men who are very available, are steady on the grind and do enjoy the company of business-minded women. Yes, OutPast30 Lady's pimp hand is strong, however no pimp bones are necessary to make the acquaintance of one of these gents. If you've got business on the brain, then be about it. Bring plenty of business cards and keep your eyes open. Smile, shake hands and tell him your name. Take his business card. You don't have to think of anything intelligent to say because he can't hear you anyway. Before you know it, you've made a hot and sexy new friend. Furthermore, you have his number AND an excuse to call him.

Single men, ditto. Hell, ALL single people, ditto. There's someone for everyone. Go ahead. Handle your business.

Disclaimer: Sweet Georgia Lover Man, OutPast30 Lady did not hit on, attempt to hit on or even contemplate hitting on any individuals of the opposite sex, same sex and/or questionable sex. OutPast30 Lady is not responsible for the undeniable attraction that any individual may have for her, nor is she responsible for any visions, fantasies, or wishful thinking with regard to her overall deliciousness.

February 24th - Spiked Lemonade @ Satay Malaysian Grill

OutPast30 Lady did venture out to a Spyonvegas event last night...but other than the free beer and the spicy sushi there wasn't much to chat about. However, my fellow 30-something gal pal went to a really cool event and I'm wondering the why the hell I wasn't there!

Spiked Lemonade .....What a refreshing change from the typical humdrum networking events in Las Vegas.

Last night was the first Spiked Lemonade event – a venue that allows Las Vegans an opportunity to rant, rave or talk about whatever is on their minds. Why “spiked lemonade?” Some people are tired of taking the lemons in their life and making plain lemonade. Sometimes a little extra spike is needed to truly make things in life seem a tad better.

The rules: Libations are a must. You get to rant about five issues (no political correctness necessary) and you must deposit a dollar to benefit the event’s charity of choice if you choose to speak. (Hint, hint, non profits.) I, along with twenty other Las Vegas professionals, took on the challenge and had a surprisingly great time for what could have turned into an awkward situation.

The brainchild of local networking and business extraordinaire Bessy Lee-Oh, Spiked Lemonade has a special purpose… to give people a chance to lay it all out on the table and then network afterwards. When you think about it, knowing a person’s personal frustrations and story brings you closer to them. And, in business, relationships are key. I left at 10 p.m. last night with five business cards in my pocket and a long list of “to email/follow-ups” in my purse for the next morning. Not too shabby when you can consider my time at Spiked Lemonade a part of a group therapy session for my life as well. A win-win situation does not even begin to give it justice.

The venue, SATAY Malaysian Grill on Paradise just off Flamingo, was perfect. (Try the deep fried garlic tofu.) Even the owner took part and said a few words. People off the street joined the group including a Virginia tech analyst in town for a convention. He ended up giving a rant of his own!

So what did I rant about , you ask? I can’t tell. You’ll need to attend the next event to hear – which is currently being planned as we speak. (Keep checking back on this blog for the next date.) Let’s just say that last night daddy issues, bad drivers, stimulus packages, in-laws, today’s youth, irresponsible friends and just about anything else you can imagine was put out into the public by all who were there. What a night.

Thanks, Ms. Amber! OutPast30 Lady's gonna have to get up on some of that ranting action. That's all I need... a drink and a mic. Hope there's not a time limit. LOLOLOLOL!

February 13th - Jet

If you're ever in Las Vegas, whether an apathetic native or a wide-eyed visitor, do yourself a favor and approach The Strip the way it was originally intended to be approached. Drive north on Las Vegas Boulevard from the 215 beltway at night when The Strip is in full swing. Behold the "Welcome to Las Vegas" sign in all of its classic glory and then let yourself be dazzled by the pulsating, undulating glow of the properties. It's like an adult-sized arcade. Dazzling, scintillating, wondrous, glowing with the promise of energy, motion and people. All of God's children just trying to escape the drain of the real world by escaping into their wildest grown-up fantasy. It's beautiful. It really is. In an electrically tempting sort of way. It's so different from my Bay Area hometown and I try never to forget that. I want to stay as curious about this great desert wonder as I can. Keeps me coming out every night...

Listening to James Browns' Funky Good Time, I was on my way to Mirage Hotel and Casino to party at Jet. I arrived wayyyyy too early. There was no line for me to cut and since that's part of the fun of going to these various places, I decided to walk about the casino. I'd just been there the night before but I hadn't given myself the opportunity to take in the vibe. It's cool. Mirage is a bit smaller than other properties like Ceasar's Palace and The Venetian, but it has its own distinctive amenities such as the gorgeously huge aquarium in the main lobby and free wine tasting on Fridays from 5pm- 7pm.

I circled back around to Jet, informing security that I was indeed there to attend the private open bar business event before the actual club opened. When he asked if I had a business card (and then informed me it was okay if I didn't), I regarded him momentarily before giving him a forgiving smile. Foolish mortal. I was pleased when he back-pedalled after seeing my card holder. I'll assume that he believed I was too devastatingly young and beautiful to have a business card. Easy mistake.

I checked my coat and made small talk with the checker. She was expecting and confirmed that her baby would probably be some kind of dancer because the little one was always dancing around in utero on account of his mom's surroundings. I scooped up my free screwdriver cocktail from the bar and regarded the crowd. Pretty thin. I drank alone for a moment, jotting down notes on a napkin as if I'm some kind of writer when I met Gilbert.

Gilbert was a very stylish 40-year old local who had recently become his own boss after working for a cosmetic retailer. He loved experiencing the nightlife but was having difficulty convincing his agemates to brave Friday's events after a long week of working. We discussed how we make time for the things we want to do and we don't allow age to be an excuse. I shared the finer points of marketing via social networking with him and gave him my word that I would invite him out with me on my next date with the city.

I'm inclined to believe that Jet suffers a bit during the winter months. The last time I was here had been on a very crowded summer night. There was no open bar and no free anything. On this night however, one of the lovely hostesses came around regularly with free lemon drop shots. My new friend, Gilbert and I partook in a couple and then hit the dance floor where I skated about in typical OutPast30 fashion for two hours. I'm proud to say that even without stretching, I experienced no soreness this morning. :)

I like that Jet offers their female guests a chance to swing around on poles in the middle of dance floor. Took me back to my high school days of cage dancing at City Nights. Don't even dare try to blackmail me, Li'l Bobby. I just ratted myself out. I fought the urge to swing around those poles for about half hour before giving in. Another lady took my hand and climbed up on the platform with me where I immediately slipped and fell on an abandoned drink. I played it off, twirled around the pole a couple of times and then left both the platform and the dance floor as if I had just given a show-stopping performance. Inside my head, I couldn't stop laughing. I think I'd been about the fifteenth falling casualty of the night. Time to go home.

I grabbed my coat, snapped a shot with some random lady waiting at the exit and made my way to the escalators. Crossing the catwalk to the parking garage, I again regarded The Strip. Gorgeous. Seemingly painted across the night sky. I can't believe I live here.

February 12th - Twestival!

I've never thought I would find myself so plugged into the world of the Internet. I'm on Facebook, Myspace, Eons, Blackplanet and LinkedIn. I blog. (Duh!) I have a Gmail, YouTube and Hulu account. I receive email alerts from VegasEvibe, Las Vegas Weekly, The Executive Lounge, SpyonVegas, Vegas4Locals and NapkinNights. I go to The Daily Beast to keep on the pulse of current events. And yes, folks, I TWEET!! To facilitate Twitter useage, I've got Twhirl jamming on my desktop this minute although I'm considering switching to Tweetdeck.

I once thought the Internet would be a great divider. I believed that independently independent individuals would plug into their monitor instead of each other for all forms of education and information..... because they believed that fellow humans would prove to become more and more ominously untrustworthy. But we can't deny our intrinsic desire to form communities, to share and absorb information, to reach out to anyone willing to listen and perhaps make "friends." It's lovely to have daily conversations with my fellow Class of 96ers all over the nation. (GO APACHES! GO, GO APACHES!) It means so much to watch my college friends' children grow up even though I can't be on the other side of the country with them. It's amazing to come together and laugh with perfect strangers. To know that our neighbors aren't as scary as ADT commercials make them out to be... To understand that people in far off lands don't hate us and still believe in the American dream... To see the world from a much broader perspective.. That's a beautiful thing.

I was reminded of this at the LV Twestival which took place at The Beatles Revolution Lounge at Mirage Hotel and Casino. All around the world, 175 cities hosted their own event where tweeters could socialize offline, meet their followers and followees face-to-face, party and benefit a charitable cause. The LV Twestival managed to raise $1000 to benefit charity: water. charity:water is a non profit organization bringing clean, safe drinking water to people in developing nations by funding sustainable clean water solutions in areas of greatest need. We partied our way to a well, ya'll!

This event touched me. It reiterated the idea that we can use our "special powers" for good. Some people have a knack for throwing a sweet party. Some people can mix up a pretty nice libation. Some people can network their butts off. Some people are technological whizzes. Some people really know how to match a pair of boots with a dress. When combined, this makes for good-looking, swingin' time that addresses a real need in our world.

I didn't see much of the inside of Revolution because I spent most of the evening welcoming attendees. However while enjoying a "Tweetini", I noticed the ultra lounge does feature many comfortable seats and cool tables with internet access and digital chalkboard capabilities. I especially loved the unisex bathroom. There was something about the large male and female symbols leading to the same destination that made me giggle. Oh, but what a terrible enticement for all sorts of public fornication. Sin City, you dirty little thing, you.