The time I felt like Rain Man

It’s been a little while since I’ve been back from Vegas, but a combination of getting sick, prioritizing getting photos processed and out the door, and simply catching up with post-holiday/vacation life, I simply neglected to write about it. But aside from the Pedro Griffin trolling story, there was another time at the blackjack tables, where I felt awesome, and remembered a story that I wanted to write about but forgot to, so better late than never.

As is often the case with a Vegas trip, this past one was just the same in the fact that I could have actually made it home having made money – if it weren’t for that last day. It’s pretty typical for me that it’s the last day in which Vegas not only catches up with me, but manages to make sure that I don’t leave with all of the money I brought in which to play with, and this last trip was no exception to that rule. I had been gambling shrewdly up until the last day, and it was naturally on the last night, in which I watched the house money diminish, and then some of my own money subsequently. Regardless, it’s not a big deal, because it’s money that’s accumulated for such frivolous purposes, and it doesn’t affect my bottom line or any financial responsibilities otherwise.

Anyway, aside from Pedro night, it was the night prior in which I was having a particularly good time at a table, and managed to walk away with a little bit of a cherry on top. I was gambling at Paris, where I was pleased to have found a single-deck table that also was being dealt by one of the sexy lingerie-clad dealers that seems to be the fortuitous norm for the Planet Hollywood/Paris/Bally’s troika of casinos these days.

Regardless, as aesthetically pleasing as the view is, being the gentleman I always pretend to be, I’m not one to creep on or unabashedly flirt with and hit on the sexy-clad dealers, because I’m sure they get it enough, and I have no game anyway. To no surprise, such a mentality typically warms most of them up to me, because I’m not such an obvious sleaze, and ultimately my goal is play blackjack, not get reamed, and get as many free drinks as I can in the process; the view is just a bonus.

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Photos: Otakon Vegas

Otakon Vegas was somewhat of a testing ground for me, being the super-n00b novice picture taker that I am.  I’m almost naive enough to believe that simply equipping a prime lens and utilizing an external flash will yield better results, but obviously, that most certainly was not the case.  In all honesty, and as much as I hate to admit it, almost 30 pictures were deemed unusable, and not worth posting at all, for a varying reasons, and never the reason of the subject(s).

Anyway, I didn’t really take that many pictures at the convention itself, and frankly I didn’t want to drag my camera out on the Strip or during my gambling escapades, because with it’s upgraded accessories, it’s kind of a pain in the ass to lug around for anything other than appropriate picture-taking times.  Aside from taking a few pictures of some select costumers, I apparently took a ton (no pun intended) of pictures from the sumo wrestling exhibition, and on Sunday, I chauffeured tagged along on an external shoot that was outside the city limits in Red Rock to close out my picture taking endeavors.

Regardless, I hope these are somewhat enjoyed, and to the maiden crop of people whom I shared a photo card with, I hope you guys are pleased with the pictures of you guys I took.

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Thoughts about Vegas and Otakon Vegas

I’m not entirely sure how it happened, but somewhere along the line, I caught something and I’ve been home sick for the last two days.  I do not get sick very often, so needless to say this doesn’t please me in the least bit, but there’s nothing I can really do about it.  However, it’s given me a little bit of extra time to catch up on processing some of the photos I took while out in Vegas, as well as some time to do some writing.

It’s been like two years since I was in Vegas last, and it’s safe to say that there have been quite some numerous changes since then.  One of the conversations had during the trip was about how Vegas was obviously one of the larger casualties of the last economic massacre, and it’s in little things that I think I notice that such an assessment is true.  A few years ago, casinos were extremely generous with coupon books boasting all sorts of match-play tickets, buy-one-get-one tickets, and other offers to stimulate parting money from your hand to the hands of the casinos.  Typically, these were given upon check in to hotels, or upon registering with a different player’s reward program.

Two years of inactivity and returning to Vegas used to warrant some sort of offers to help make up for money of mine they haven’t been getting but neither redeeming new cards, or checking into the hotel prompted any sort of offers of sort.  To me, it’s not a big deal, since I hardly used anything other than BOGO drinks, but the lack of offers wasn’t lost on me either.

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I want a real vacation

Several times throughout the years, I’ll take vacation time and go somewhere and do things.  Despite the fact that I’m generally accomplishing things that I want to do on my vacation time, I don’t really feel like they’re really vacations in the sense that I’m completely relaxed and at a general state of ease and comfort.

When I go to a convention, there’s the agitation of constantly being in lines and being crammed with thousands of people at any given time; waits, more waits, lines and waiting in lines, the tedious procedure of trying to find a place to sit and eat lunch or dinner.  When I go on ballpark trips, they’re usually not spent very long in any one place, and in order to maximize how much time gotten at each park, and there’s a lot of time spent driving around in cars trying to get from point A to B to C to D and then back to A sometimes.  And then there are the unfortunate instances of having to use vacation time to go deal with family bullshit, where I feel like I need a vacation after each and every single day dealing with my parents’ separation.

And no matter where in the United States you go, there’s always a long line at Starbucks when all I really want is my morning cup of coffee.

Don’t get me wrong, aside from the family bullshit, I enjoy going on trips to go to conventions, baseball road trips, out-of-town weddings and other time-off-work excursions.  I wouldn’t trade any of those things in for the world, but the fact of the matter is that more often than not, none of those things are truly restful, not-a-care-in-the-world, zero-worry, genuine vacations.

So I kind of want to go on an actual vacation, sometime.

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A late night urge to write

Oddly to say it, but it’s been a while since I made a post like this.  If it’s not obvious, I tend to do a lot of my writing well in advance, and post them on a daily basis, to give off the impression that I’m churning out brog posts on a daily basis.  I hate to kill the reality, but that’s not always entirely true.  I still contend that I’m the most dedicated blogger I know as well as out there, since I’ve been doing this regularly for over twelve years now, but this is a little glimpse into the reality that is my own.  I write pretty consistently on a daily basis, but there are stretches of time where I actually don’t have the time to write something, every single day.

Anyway, this is something I haven’t done in a while; a post where I’ve started writing with little or no real objective, and where I’ll actually hit “post” upon completion or when I don’t feel like writing anymore, and it will go up in at real of time as there ever is, instead of hitting “save as draft,” and saving it until Monday, because I tend to not really do much, if any, writing over the weekends, because I’m lazy like that, and frankly people don’t really use the internet on weekends aside from needs, sports scores, or Facebook; along those monotonous ways.

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Real Men Don’t Wear Small update: Triple-A minors trip

After what’s felt like quite a while in between baseball trips over the 2013 season, I’ve finally updated my ballparks website again.  Unfortunately, it isn’t a Major League ballpark to take off of the list, but it’s instead four Triple-A minor league ballparks visited and covered.  If this keeps up, I’d have to consider breaking off a section for just the International League, but then again, I’ve said the same thing as it pertains to the teams in the Carolina League as well as the Southern League.

RPG logic in real life

A funny thing happened while I was out in New York once.  My friend and I went out to the small town of Auburn, to try and catch the last of the minor league games we had planned to see, but several hours prior to the game, it began raining, and raining steadily.  At this point, it really began to look like the game was in jeopardy, but since we had come such a long way, we wanted to wait as long as possible, or for the team to officially cancel it before we made our next move.

There was a little bit of frustration as the rain continued to come, and make it look obvious, but not being from the area, we still weren’t completely sure on whether or not to get the hell out of dodge yet, or wait on.  But at this point, we needed a place to kill some time and not putter around out in the rain and waste gas.  So we went to a nearby bar.

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