sucker-punch
March 05, 2006, 1:18 P.M.

Did I have a good time in Las Vegas?

Oh, you bet your sweet ass. Wonderful dining--with the exception of Smith and Wollensky, which was without a doubt the worst steakhouse I've ever dined in.
We ate our breakfasts at The Peppermill, and at the buffets of The Paris, green Valley Ranch, and The Mirage. Top marks for all, too.

Dinners were at the aforementioned S&W, as well as Sazio (amazing Veal Sorrento!), and Samba grill (still my favorite place for Caiprinas and Rodizio). I skipped dinner on Saturday night, in favor of much-needed sleep, and Wednesday, as we were catching our plane at dinner time.

Thankfully, I was well-supplied with morning coffee, because our hotel houses a Seattle's Best instead of the hated Starbucks. Large classic mocha, no whip-- every blessed morning. Aahhh.

And sunshine, with temps in the sixties and seventies. We did have day with a bit of rain in the morning, and some high winds in the afternoon. But we still sat in the hot tub and the lounging pool--at least until the patio furniture started flying around and almost clocked me one in the head!

The wedding was on Sunday--I was pleasantly surprised to see that one could have a tasteful and sweet wedding at a Vegas chapel. The afternoon sun streamed warmly through stained glass, the Justice of the Peace waxed eloquent on the subject of marriage, and the bride looked radiant in her white gown. All in all, it was simply charming.

Spouse and I spent most of one day hitting the bead stores, and I made a fabulous haul on seeds, delicas, fire polish, and Swarovskis. Wirework isn't nearly as big out there, so the selection on my kind of stuff was great. Prices were, too--I spent about $106, and would have easily spent twice that back here, for the same stuff--if I could even find it!

I have to say that it was a lovely vacation, and I dreaded coming home.

First: We got got home late Wednesday night, so I slept in a bit on Thursday. Only to wake to an extremely shitty sight--furiously falling snow. Which later turned to sleet. Still, I ran around town in the morning, getting some groceries in and picking up the dog, and also managed to do about seven loads of laundry over the course of the day.

And I took a phone call from my boss.

Who informed me that in my absence, there had been a major organizational shake-up. And my job was no longer mine.

Oh, I still have a job--technically. I am to be moved into another department, though, and my entire career is tossed to the wind. The new job is ill-defined, nothing with which I'm currently familiar, and--it's under the worst possible boss anyone could have in our wing. The one who has managed to get all the competent people pissed off enough to quit, and who has no one left in her department at this point but passive-aggressive, back-stabbing, lazy-assed losers.

And, apparently, me.

It takes no huge amount of insight to see the purpose of this. I've been there 10 years, I opt for full benefits, I'm fully vested, I make a good-sized salary, and I'm getting four weeks of vacation a year.

There's no way I'm cost-effective.

So they strip me of the job I love, toss me to EvilBoss, and hope I get fed up and quit.

Well, fuck them. They have no idea what they're up against. They forget--I managed to hang on at the hell that is Wal-Mart, and I did it for seven long years. I outlasted 47 members of the management staff in those seven years. What the fuck does this company think they can throw at me?

I will cop to a long and bitter crying session after I hung up the phone, though.