My Southern roots are showing

My husband's company paid for us to spend a weekend in Vegas to celebrate the successful launch of one of their video games. I expected a fancy dinner and a fun party. I got more than I reckoned for.

As we were checking in to the hotel, my husband (M) ran into his coworker who invited us to hang out with a bunch of people on his team before dinner. So we dropped our stuff in our room and met them in the lobby.

A limo shows up... and I learn we're heading to a gun range. Interesting. The only time I've ever seen a gun range is on TV -- one of the Real Housewives goes to a gun range and lets out some anger. So I'm really not sure what to expect but I figure it will be an interesting experience. We selected a package that would let us shoot 4 guns - 2 automatics, a pistol, and a shotgun. It was the closest I've ever been to a gun except when I've been pulled over for an illegal U-turn. I hope not to have to get so close ever again. But back to the story...

So it's my turn to shoot the guns, so I put on my goggles and my protective ear muffs to dampen the sound of the shots. The first automatic gun seemed. Not too heavy, and it had a cool holographic sight for aim so I was less worried about accidentally hitting something I shouldn't. However, after I took the first shot, the recoil sent me staggering back a little. The kind gentleman demonstrating the guns was nice enough to prop me up for the subsequent shots so the recoil was not quite as intense. However, as I will explain later, the recoil still was an issue.

The second gun was some Swedish machine gun. It was so heavy, I had to rest it on the ammo tray to be able to shoot it.

The third gun was the pistol. I felt like a cop holding that gun. I was considering shooting it gangsta-style (for an explanation, see: http://croweitalia.altervista.org/NWB/NWBusgrande.jpg or http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/GangstaStyle), but I have a reputation to maintain. Anyway, it was a light gun with low recoil so I could almost do it all by myself.

The last gun was the scary one -- the shotgun. I've only heard stories about sawed off shotguns -- and nothing good happens in those stories. Plus, the shotgun apparently has the most recoil. So with the gun gentleman propping me up, I fired off those last rounds.

Pictures coming soon :)

After the exhilaration of being a better shot than my husband, I realized my shoulder hurt. From the recoil. Ow. It was totally bruised from having the guns repeatedly bouncing off of it in the recoil. To get over that pain, I started looking at everyone else's paper targets, I realized I was actually pretty good. Except for the other people from the South (one from Atlanta, one from Birmingham), I was the best.

I think it's part of being Southern -- it's in my blood to be a good shot. Unfortunately, like my amazing bocce ball skills, it's a totally useless talent unless I'm in a fight and someone drops a fully loaded, cocked gun with the safety off. And gun has to be lightweight enough for me to actually lift.

My first celebrity sighting!

Ever since I've moved to LA a month ago, I've been waiting to see celebrities. Tonight was that fateful night where I saw my first celebrity.

After some friends and I went to an Indian restaurant in Culver City, we went to the nearby fro-yo place that has neon green and neon pink spoons. My husband noticed an older, distinguished Indian gentleman with gray hair that was combed back. He surreptitiously leaned in and said "I think I've seen that guy sitting behind us on TV." I turned around and stared. I recognized him from somewhere, but unfortunately I can't remember his name or what TV show he was from. Great... my first celebrity sighting and I don't even know who he is or why he is famous.

Welcome to Yuppievlle

So you know how there's always empty PBR cans on the side of the road in most places? Well, when I went running on San Vicente the other day, I saw an empty bottle of Johnny Walker Green on the side of the road. These people know how to party.

Surrounded by a sea of glamazons...

So the first weekend after my husband and I moved to LA, we thought we'd check out a sushi place in Brentwood called Katsuya -- what we thought would be our neighborhood sushi joint. Never mind that the yelp reviews said "dressy"... I just assumed every place in LA said dressy. So, I pulled on what I thought was a dressy outfit -- keep in mind, I spent 2 of the 3 last years in Seattle and the last year in San Francisco, where a dressy outfit is anything that isn't jeans. So I had on a pair of leggings and a sequined jersey tunic. I know you're thinking, that sounds dressy. But my practicality took over and I put on a pair of Cole Haan flats (that are not the most fashionable) for the walk over to the restaurant, and a J. Crew sweatshirt in case I got cold. You get the idea.

We walk over to Katsuya, and I think this will be fun. And then we get closer and I realize how trendy this place is. We walk in, and suddenly I realized I am way underdressed. I am surrounded by gorgeous women who are over 6 feet tall and wearing 6 inch heels. Needless to say, I feel very short. And these women are also wearing couture and have their hair blown out into elegant waves. Of course, my hair is in a ponytail. At least I blow dried my bangs. I also think we saw the girl who plays Georgina Sparks on Gossip Girl.

I later realized that Bruce Willis likes to hang out here. I guess I'll have to step up my A game here.