As many of you know already, Sundays are Brunchdays aka Boozy Brunch Sundays. So in accordance with the weekly tradition we decided to try a new Brunch experience at the Red Rock Hotel and Spa.
Mercadito proclaimed that Sundays were a no mas pantalones experiences. For 25 bucks you would get a variety of flavored bottomless mimosas and any 1 food item off the menu. WHAT!! I was sold. By sold I mean we made it a priority to find the bottom of all the deliciously flavored mimosas offered. They had a smorgasbord too. Pineapple, guava, mango, blueberry, strawberry and so on and so forth… To be real the rest of the flavors escape me, could be the persistent overflowing of mimosas the waiter kept coming wit, but who really knows these things? One thing I do know is that the well never ran dry. Oh, the food was super tasty and that is not an after thought either.
So if you find yourself in North West Vegas and want a yummy Brunch experience go check them out.
The other day my older Brother was looking for someone to go with him to play on the Lets Make A Deal Show, which airs on CBS and is hosted by Wayne Brady. out in Los Angeles. I jumped at the chance to go. I love Sunny California and have never been on a game show. I figured I could add this to my bucket list and then scratch it off lol, very much like an amended Bucket List Item. Don’t judge Me.
You have to dress up in a crazy costume and have a big personality to get pulled up on stage. They interview each contestant when they are outside standing in line to get a sense of who is out there and who to start watching to pull up and play the games with Wayne Brady. Now honestly, I’m more a reserved sarcastic person that can be outgoing, but I was in the land of Actors and Actresses that bubble high energy. I was no competition thus was not one of the “chosen few” to have a crack at winning some free Shit. When we were brought on to set, they sat us in a corner and kept reiterating that no seat is a bad seat. I believed it at first… Until this old craggedy wrinkle, faced geezer was sat next to us and kept on falling asleep. That is a bad seat!! For real for real a TERRIBLE seat, cameras cant pan on you because she is over there slobbering and knocked out. That means no camera time for us. Sad Face.
Either way we went in and laughed, danced, screamed and had a good ole time. Even though I didn’t end up winning a car or money, family time on set of Lets Make A Deal was an awesome experience.
Until next time Love You Always… Misty
Weekends are the pinnacle of a tough week. Those who trudged through a crappy Monday through Friday accomplishing tasks that are tedious, menial and truly not thrilling. Weekends are Gods way of saying “I know my child! I know grown up life sucks dirty ball water… HOWEVER COMMA I am blessing you with this amazing treat dubbed Boozy Brunch Sundays”. Who loves a great brunch? THIS GIRL. I absolutely love bottomless anything lol Sundays are the days that you get dressed in a trendy outfit and head to a restaurant that will ply you with bottomless alcoholic goodness and amazing breakfast treats.
Guess what?? We did just that:
Today we ate at Hearthstone Kitchen and Cellar for their Sunday Brunch. I love the Rustic Eclectic style of this restaurant and the staff is always soo accommodating. Our Mimosas really were bottomless. The glasses never got less than halfway full of the orange bubbly goodness. Go #teamnowater. I ordered the Loco Moco, which is a Hawaiian breakfast mix of Rice, Medium Eggs, Gravy and some lime. It was very yummy with great flavors. My Sister ordered a Breakfast Canotto With Ricotta, Soft poached egg and Black pepper. It was so delicious. A Canotta is like a puffy flat bread and it was perfectly made. In my opinion, Boozy Brunch Sundays are one of the best ways to end the weekend. You get to fellowship with your favorite people over delicious drinks and just finish unwinding before a new week starts. Don’t forsake this opportunity!! and If you are in Vegas, check out Hearthstone Kitchen and Cellar, you will not be disappointed.
A couple days ago I promised my best friend that I would begin consistently blogging every day for 30 days… Well today is day 1… So what to write?
Well currently I am laying on a table with little electro pads on my quad sending shock waves through the muscle to stimulate contractions of the muscle. I feel like if there was a way to convey the saying ” Hell hath no fury like a woman scorn” into a physical feeling it would be this pain… Jolting volts forcing my flaccid quad to spasm. Disclaimer: I’m not some sadistic individual desiring leg execution for a good time, rather, This is physical therapy lol
Backstory – I tore my meniscus and chose to have it repaired because I just felt that it was the best route. Not a fan of shots. I will say that in recovery it should be known that everything is at your bodies pace. I couldn’t walk for the first week. Second week way better with weight bearance and third week… Well I’m world running marathons … SIKE. I’m actually laying on a table doing physical shock therapy. But life could be worst..
First World Problems
That is always how I like to start my vacations.
I start off writing this in the Airport Clarion Hotel in Philadelphia. I cannot honestly sat that this is where I anticipated my day ending, and yet here I am.
To preface this, I’d have to give a little background about the last year of my life. After living in Japan for a bit over two years, I came back home to Las Vegas. I knew immediately that it was the end of a very important and very fantastic stage of my life. I mourned and celebrated my exit from Japan by going on a solo backpacking trip through Vietnam and Cambodia.
This probably marked the height of my life as the intrepid adventurer. I didn’t realize it at the time.
Under the guise of letting myself ‘get situated’ at home I neglected my wanderlust and in turn it made my daily life feel like trudging through the River of Styx. I suppose that is the only logical conclusion when you turn your back on your passion.
Nevertheless, after over a year of living down to my hopes, dreams, and potential as well as watching my most cherished relationships deteriorate, I decided it was time for a palette cleanser. The bitter taste that had taken permanent residence in my soul could not be washed away by some weekend getaway. It needed to be something personal and remarkable.
For me, it had to be London.
I do not know when or why this seed was planted in my head that London was the home I had never been to, but I felt a kinship to it.
Now, Paris is the place that most people fantasize about, but I am not a romantic. I am a rationalist. I mentally prepared myself. I wanted to see sights of near constant drizzling rain, immaculately tailored slim cut suits, afternoon tea, the flagship store of Alexander McQueen, a Shakespeare play trotted out at the Globe Theatre.
Alas, fate had other plans. While flying standby, I made my flight from Las Vegas to Charlotte, NC with relative ease. Yet Charlotte changed the game. Sitting at the gate, I breathed my first sigh of relief. I had found it impossible to get excited beforehand as standby plans could change in the blink of an eye. In that moment, I sunk into that uncomfortable airport chair with almost certainty that it was just a matter of hours before I stepped onto British soil.
It only took three little words to shatter that dream.
“We need volunteers.”
US Airways was giving a $900 flight credit to any passenger willing to opt our of their flight. If someone with a confirmed seat was not guaranteed a seat, what chances did I have? I raced to collect my bag, my composure and my jaw off the floor, and I embarked to find out my options.
At the counter the ticket agent looked relieved that someone was walking towards her, possibly to take myself off this flight. As I spoke her hopes were dashed. I was told that I could get onto a flight to Philadelphia with a connecting flight into London. Ultimately, I be arriving in London only a paltry three hours later than originally planned.
The Philadelphia flight was near the end of boarding as I was being told this. I only had a split second to make a definitive decision; in that moment of panic I made the only snap judgment that seemed logical: yes.
I barely made it on the flight to Philadelphia and sunk into that slight more comfortable than an airport seat with the ease that my snags were behind me.
Side note: I have noticed when getting on the plane, if you happen to be the last person, you get a lot of dirty looks from people as if you are single handedly holding up the flight. As anyone who has ever missed a flight knows, airplanes wait for no man.
An even more personal side note: To the woman who whispered no so silently as I boarded the plane, “there’s always one straggler running late,” I reply, why don’t you take your judgment and shove it up your tight ass and enjoy a rough patch of turbulence.
End of side note.
In Philadelphia, I had some time to kill, so I enjoyed a veggie version of a Philly Cheese steak. However, I have now been told that is both blasphemous and entirely missing the point. Finally, I go to the counter to see my chances of making the flight. There I encountered a very nice, albeit straight forward guy who gave me truly bad news, When he said that I wouldn’t make it on my flight, there was a moment I was certain he was just joking with me. He was not.
While there were more than a few open seats, there were more than a few passengers flying standby, and I was low on the totem pole. I waited, clinging to hope that a minivan full of passengers would get stuck in traffic. I know, not my finest moment. As boarding time came and went, every standby passenger was called to board. Every…single…one. Except me.
The gate agent again was blunt when he told me that the next flight into Heathrow was not until 9:50 pm the following day and that my chances of flying looked equally dour. I appreciated his honesty. However, I appreciated even more when he took the moments to tell me what flights would be leaving for Europe the following day and what my chances were for making each flight.
The options presented ranged from Madrid, Barcelona, Paris (with a slim chance), and Rome. The only other location that I could imagine going, which I had dreamed about, had to be Italy. And with that, with no preparation, at 10:00 pm I chose that I would be departing for Rome the following day.
It was a tumultuous road, and I will admit that for at least a full day I behaved like a brat, lamenting over the fact that my dream of London was stalled. Then I realized that if a challenge in my life was ‘having’ to go to Rome as a consolation, things really couldn’t be all that bad, could they?
Cool concept.. But how many would stay awake?