Ain't No Showgirl.

So, I'm nearly recovered from the trip to Las Vegas last weekend. Nearly. Almost. Probably.

I learned one very important thing, I don't love Vegas like everyone else loves Vegas. I'll admit, I did have fun, like 75% of the time. The other 25% I sort of hated it.

The Boyfriend went because he was going to a Hypnotism seminar, so now he's all qualified to be a hypnotherapist, which is awesome. Like seriously, if you want to loose weight or stop smoking or be more confidant; he's your guy. (He also can make you do silly things if you want that, and magic.) So, pretty much contact him for everything, because I'm dating a certified hypnotherapist and highly talented magician.

Anyway, he was going for the seminar which would give him his official qualifications, complete with diplomas, and I was to go with him. We stayed in the Paris, which was beautiful. It had a fake sky which was lovely and it reminded me of my own trip to Paris in 2004 (let's not count how many years ago that was).

Outside the hotel though, it was an entirely different animal. There was more than enough stimulation for me inside the hotel, what with the crowds, lights, sounds, slot machines, roulette wheels, blackjack tables, and tourists. Once outside, I was completely overwhelmed. My poor little crazy brain couldn't handle everything.

The evenings were better. The Boyfriend was back from his classes, I was properly dosed with Xanax, dressed up all pretty, and headed to get a few drinks with his classmates and instructors; who are all pretty cool guys. So, to recap, I liked Vegas when I was xanaxed and somewhere in the hazy border of tipsy and drunk. Not quite the way I wanted to experience the world, but it was sort of the only way at the time.

You know that whole "what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas"? Most girls, when they get way a little too drunk in Vegas end up with hilarious and somewhat embarrassing stories of dancing on tables, kissing strangers, and falling down. I ended up crying in the bathroom of our hotel room because "I didn't want to be drunk anymore" and "I wanted to go home". If that doesn't describe my inner introvert, than nothing does. (Also, naturally the crazy took the next morning to convince me that I ruined everything, stress and crazy are great friends). Then the flight home was more crying, because my bag wouldn't fit in the stupid overhead bin and I had to wait for everyone to board so I could bring my bag up to the front to be kept in a closet.

There were good things, though. There was meeting up with a friend I haven't seen in years, feeding ducks at a park, meeting new and awesome people, and having fun at shows (Anthony Cools, Kevin Lepine, and Penn and Teller. Here are pictures to prove that I did have fun.

And OHMYGOD guys! I have found heaven, and it is The Pinball Hall of Fame. I'm pretty sure that just about every pinball machine ever made has been restored to it's former glory and everything is completely PLAYABLE!!!! I played pinball for hours with my friend, and then The Boyfriend and I went there before our flight home. Oh man, when I die, I'm gonna haunt that place forever.

Even the handicapped parking is awesome at The Pinball Hall of Fame.

So, all in all I learned that I am no Vegas Showgirl. I am not made for Sin City. I do not love the lights. When I go back again, I know it will happen, I will bring books and stay in the room until I am lured out by the promise of a few drinks and a game of pinball.

A Quiet Riot

So, last week the Meyers Briggs test circulated among my facebook friends to see which type of people we are. I think the results are correct to a point, but it's also nearly impossible to put anyone into categories. It is possible to group similar people, so here are my results.

INTJ

Introvert(100%) iNtuitive(25%) iNtuitive Thinking(1%) Judging(33%)

You have strong preference of Introversion over Extraversion (100%)

You have moderate preference of Intuition over Sensing (25%)

You have marginal or no preference of Thinking over Feeling (1%)

You have moderate preference of Judging over Perceiving (33%)

So, I guess there's no denying my introverted qualties...I mathematically cannot be more of an introvert.

I've also started reading Quiet: The Power Of Introverts In A World That Can't Stop Talking which is an amazing book. It discusses the awesomeness of introverts in history and the amazing qualities that are so valuable to society. It's sort of great to be told in a book that it's okay to be who I always was...a person drawn to libraries and stories and blanket forts solitude.

But, just because I will take a book over a party any day, does not mean I'm boring. I have a spark for mischief that cannot be contained. I'm no prankster and I never was the class clown, but I always have a witty comeback and there might be a trick or two up my sleeves.

My style is something I've lovingly called "the quiet riot". I find joy in subtle jokes, small things that when noticed make one's day just a little better.

I prefer things like, putting googly eyes on the plants at work.

It's possible that sometimes, a squeaker will find it's way into The Boyfriend's bag that he takes to work. That plan worked out even better, because I thought he would discover it before we left in the morning. He found it when he got to work. Bonus points. I mean, I have no idea how the squeaker got in there.

Sometimes, the anonymous things I do may or may not have a slight passive aggressive tone to them.

Like today, I might (though there is no proof) have posted this blog in both of the stalls in the bathroom at work. Maybe, but you can't prove a thing.

If nobody else finds any of this amusing, I at least do. My own little fight against the boring normal...without drawing too much attention to myself, because that gives me even more anxiety than I currently have.

You don't have to be the life of the party to have fun. If you want to read a book rather than go out clubbing, then do it. Whatever makes you happy. Just make sure that you take a little time to add a little spice to the day...and maybe someone else's, too.

Let's crank this quiet riot up!