10,000

That's how many hits I've gotten to my blog since the end of September last year when I posted my first entry.

I want to apologize to those who came expecting smut, that's coming. I also want to apologize for my mediocre writing, that isn't changing. For those wanting more photos, I'm working on it. I love this thing, I'm glad you do, too.

Thank you for reading, I promise to keep talking into the wind and hoping that you keep wanting to hear what it is that I have to say.

Also, the comments have been beyond appreciated. Thank you to all who gave their input. I may not have responded, but, outside of the psycho who keeps writing 'YOUR AN IDIOT,' yes, with bad punctuation and terrible spelling, they have all been heartwarming and kind. YOU'RE awesome.

Lover

Oh, New York City, you've once again swept me up in your welcoming embrace and held me warmly with the amazing men your city teems with. It was so good to see you again, too.

I don't know where else I can feel this passionate, this wild, but with you. You open up and you implore me to give everything I have to you, and you return that to me over and over.

You bring to me the most sensual of men. Where did you find them at? I need to clone them and take them back to the tame West with me. We would light the night sky on fire.

I am rapturous, drunk on the ecstasy that I've experienced. Spent, but renewed by the headiness of my experience with the city and its incredible inhabitants. You have all reminded me of why I will forever have this place embedded in my soul.

I have experienced lovers to surpass all lovers, laughed and reacquainted myself with old friends and made new ones. Orgasmic doesn't touch the feeling that I leave here with.

Thank you, you bright, beautiful city and all of you that helped to create this euphoria in me and have me dreaming of my timely return. Until then.

Apologizing

Isn't it such an agonizing thing to do? To say you made a mistake, you were wrong, you did it? Yes. Terribly so.

I used to have a difficult time apologizing. It was as though my insides were in a compactor being crushed to particles. I lost my breath, I literally would have to keep my face from contorting in pain from my nerves being twisted in a bunch. It was an ordeal, to say the least.

Now, I see that apologizing is a part of growing up, being an adult. I easily admit when I'm wrong, absolutely see where I made the mistake and I can look someone in the eye and, with all of the compassion I can muster, say 'I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you.' Or, whatever. 'I'm sorry I was such a...yeah, you didn't deserve that.' I can say 'I was wrong' and believe it when I say it. 


Having learned how to do that helps me to live a more complete life. It's as though I went through the School of Life and passed another course. I'm slowly inching toward graduating to a more whole me. I can't wait to get that diploma (just kidding, I know I'll never graduate, I'll never be perfect, dammit).

New York City

Magical New York City. I lived there for a few years and fell in love, and then out of love, and now I just think of it longingly. But I won't have to think about it much because I'll be right in the middle of that madness again very soon.

Everyone should live in this place just once, for a time. While it's expensive, prohibitively so, the weather is torturous at times, and the people can be callous, insensitive and dismissive most days, it still IS the most fabulous place on earth. 

I remember living there and reveling in the energy and sparkle of the compact city with far too many people and cars than it could reasonably hold. I never lost the feeling that I was experiencing something most people just dream of. I was constantly in awe and aware that I was in the middle of the biggest thing I'd ever know in my lifetime.

I also experienced a deep, dark, paralyzing depression. When the snow started and the rain fell, my mood did as well. The noise of the city constantly reverberating in my head, both while awake and asleep, was enough to cause brief insanity. I had to leave or lose myself.

But, the things I felt when I was there, while I was feeling them, were life altering and I'm proud to say that I once lived in such a majestic city where anything you want can be found. Any kind of food, lover or adventure I wanted was just waiting for me to call it forth. I indulged mightily and I'm not sorry.

So, as I return to the place I have a burning love/hate relationship with, I'm happy to be able to take what I want and leave the rest, and I hope when I do that I, and the city, am richer for it. I'm almost positive we will be.

Running

Do you ever wonder why sitting in bed, eating cheetos and watching Survivor isn't a sport? I do. 

I've been training really hard (in my mind I'm killing myself, when in reality I probably look like I eat cheetos and watch television all day) and my body is really feeling the wear and tear. 

I ordered this THING, this styrofoam log, for lack of a better descriptor and it is a torture device. Kind of like the treadmill, free weights and shoes without support so I can 'feel.' Oh, please, I don't need all that to feel. I'm a chick, we FEEL everything. That's probably not what they meant. So...

I roll on this thing using the force of my own body weight to work out the kinks in my legs. Essentially, I'm forcing me to hurt myself. There has to be a group on the internet for this, I'm sure of it. It is so painful and breathtakingly so. Too bad you can't just order a masseur online and get them to come over and mold you back into shape GENTLY. 

I guess what I'm trying to say is that training to run a race isn't as nice as going to Barbados and diving in clear blue water. Now THAT'S a sport! But, this sport? It's hard, difficult, painful and man, do I want to quit sometimes. But in the spirit of I'm-Not-A-Loser I keep going and going. That lung capacity thing is going to be the death of me, but it isn't taking me down without a fight!

I feel healthier, happier and energized. I feel like it's also helping transition to a new life, as though if I can do this, I can do anything! It's uplifting and motivating and my body is doing things I never in a million years thought it would be able to do. 

So now, when my sister says 'Uh, Nikki, there ARE people who shouldn't run, I think that's us,' I can look at her and say, 'Apparently NOT.'

Race

My whole life has been one form of race or another. Race to the alter, race to buy a house, race to have children, race to divorce that...never mind. 

So, me starting to run seemed like a natural progression. Anyone that knows me knows that I have a hard time sitting still, it's not in me, I like to be moving. I enjoy the adrenaline rush, that high, when my outside body is in sync with my inside body. My heart racing, my breathing deep, my ass killing me. Oops, TMI. 

So, as usual for Ms. Overachiever, I decided after I began to run (and do it well) that I'd sign up for a 10K. Oh yeah. I'm going to do it in an hour and then I'm going to drink Las Vegas dry. Because I can't drink a drop before the race in March. Oh, I forgot to mention it was in less than 2 months? It is, it is. 

I'm very excited to be expanding my life is these wild and wonderful directions. Exercise never came easy to me because for most of my life I didn't have to worry about it. My metabolism kept my weight down regardless of what I ate. Wow, do I miss those days. So, now I'm at the gym 5 days a week and, while it gives me untold energy, my eating habits keep my ass the same size. Yeah, the ass you love and know. You better enjoy it while you can because it's shrinking fast. Alaska becomes Rhode Island, if you know what I mean.

So, I start hard training tomorrow and with one day off for rest, I'm going to be crying on here like you just told me I couldn't shoe shop anymore. YOU WILL LOVE IT. 

I'm going to go eat a deep dish pizza with a side of Chimay 12 pack now. Wish me luck and look for the new and improved ass coming soon!

Dear Santa

Let's just get it out: I've been bad. 

Maybe not in a no-Christmas-presents-for-you kind of way, but definitely in a way that says ho-ho-ho, if you know what I mean. 

I'm not sure what my punishment is, you don't exactly go into that in your song (the mildly threatening one that has scared me since childhood), but I can tell you that if you were really watching then I surely taught you what naughty was.

I hope there is no photographic evidence, SANTA.

I'm also hoping we can come to some sort of agreement about this. I mean, I'm not going to get less naughty as the years go on (I'm in my prime, hello?) and you're not going to change a history that has kept small children in line since the beginning of time, so an agreement would work well for all of us. That, and you get to see what bad really is. It's like holiday porn from Nikki! My gift to you! You're welcome!

How about you keep bringing those 5" Christian Louboutin's, the fabulous men with their wit and charm, and vacations in Barbados and I promise to always keep my rear to the fireplace. 

Yes?

Dirty Santa. I like.

Washington, D.C.

As I sit here packing my things up and getting ready to leave to go home to Vegas, I feel a sort of sadness creeping over me. 

This has been the best time I've ever had here. I have seen amazing people, all of you, I've eaten great food, I've had amazing conversation, seen old friends and experienced new places and I am so happy that I have. 

Thank you, every single one of you that came to see me and that made me feel beautiful and sexy and adored. You are all so wonderful. 

I hope that you won't forget me and that I made your time with me just as enjoyable, because it was all so wonderful for me. 

So, thank you for your kindness, your amazing generosity, your fantastic company and for being the same gracious men that I've always known here. You are wonderful and adored by me. 

Happy holidays, you've made mine joyous.