I told Len & promised Richard that I would write daily in my blog, & I have completely failed to do so thanks to being sick basically since December 20th. I imagine, however, that I would have failed anyhow as Advent & Christmas & then New Year shenanigans were upon us.
I had a number of super pithy observations to make about all that until my non-promise-keeping guilt took over & erased all cogent thought from my head. I might also blame the Benedryl that is keeping me from sneezing my pituitary gland out. I’ll probably randomly recall things here for a few days until it’s all out. First I will tell you about the phenomenon of drunk, rambling adults. Because we spent New Year’s in Vegas.
Drunk kids are sad & boring. Drunk adults are sad & boring on top of mortifying. When a 21 year old girl with a 24″ waist & 36″ extensions in a 20″ sequened dress & 6″ heels squeals with laughter & stumbles down Las Vegas Blvd, it’s kind of annoying but you also have to golf clap & say “Well done. You are taking advantage of your rapid recovery & cell turnover. Enjoy it now, creature who is no doubt called Ashley or Jaydyn.”
When two guys in their late 50s from North Dakota are stumbling around the monorail station with yard long margaritas & blowing noise makers & screaming “Happy New Year” while the wife frantically hobbles along behind yelling at them to be quiet, you understand why Vegas is Cabo for the aging. The wife was also drunk, wearing a fur coat with Lady Dockers & nursing Skechers, & making the error of attempting to talk sense into a drunk.
My boyfriend had never been to Vegas. He remarked immediately that it smells like cigarettes & sadness, which is exactly correct. We found pockets of Vegas that are Vegas-awesome, which is not like other kinds of awesome. It’s kind of like Epcot-awesome or Walmart-awesome.
Things that are Vegas-awesome would be the 3535 at the Linq: old school jams & cheap drinks with random elderly Filipino couples dancing. That place was magic. We thought the Museum of Mob & Law Enforcement History might be cool, too, but we didn’t get to go. Sam’s Town, a staple of my high school days, has never stopped being Sam’s Town, & that is wonderful. Calamity Jane’s ice cream parlour is still there, but now there’s an atrium & animatronic mountain creatures.
I don’t recognize the Strip any more; when I lived in Vegas, The Dunes was still around. Now it’s like a mall & Epcot’s World Pavillion knocked boots in a Trans Am & the baby is the current Strip, but Times Square is the step-dad of that baby. Each casino-resort is an entity unto itself that it takes a full 20 minute walk, even at a brisk pace, to traverse. They’re like small towns with obscenely priced sandwiches.
Vegas is the exact opposite of a vacation destination to me, but my mother was kind enough to invite us all along & put us up at The Signature while she went to see Michael Buble for the 97th time. So we made the most of it. And she had an absolute blast, which is what counts.
My ideal vacation would involve a bit of sea side, museums, gardens, small reasonably priced meals in good cafes, & music. I also need a sinky tub. Must be why I like San Francisco so much, though it’s been a while since anything was reasonably priced there.
My boyfriend has gone back to his part of the world & I am still wrestling with the cold I’ve had since Advent & the glutening I got Wednesday night. All this to say I’ve felt better. But I have also felt much worse, & this has actually been a very nice Advent, Christmas, & New Year. Now if only I could get healthy up in here.
Here are some more pictures, worth at least another 762 words..