None of my lost weekend snaps really embodied how I felt about our trip so I searched the internet for "quintessential Las Vegas" and got this picture. I was expecting Jimmy Buffett cover bands, Elvis impersonators with acne, distressed gamblers boring holes into slot machines with their bloodshot eyes. Nevertheless, a nerd on a winning streak seems about right.
CLICK BELOW IF YOU'D LIKE TO READ MORE :)
I acknowledge that I'm not a great candid photographer. Once in a thousand, the sunlight and my trigger finger and the cammy aperture will work together and give me a freebie and I'll back it up a hundred times so to never lose it, but generally my lack of discipline means I never take snaps when I'm depressed or excited, too drunk or too crabby, laughing or talking and all the while missing great shots, angles or whatever. Meanwhile, the snaps I do take are only footnotes of the whole night.
Here are some footnotes from the lost weekend in Las Vegas.
We arrived at the hotel, gawking out the windows and touching fabrics, opening doors and testing out furniture. Reassuring and adulating when asked how we liked the suite. Sitting around the table gabbing about boyfriends and jobs and complimenting each other and bla and bla. Ok, estrogen overdose completed.
This guy deserves his own paragraph, but I'm running late for a dollar movie so I'll whittle it down to: his wonderful Chicago accent plus helping us take weird photos of our raunchy names plus... nerd on a winning streak?
We acted as passive followers that first night. Jeans and tee-shirts? Sure. Margaritaville for din din? Yeah, let's go! Would I normally be caught within 100 feet of those two things? Fuck no, but it's not about me and I happily followed, a couple glasses of gin and tonic helped. Plus, Jessica's excitement was encouraging and sweet :)
The next day Claire, Ash and I went on a 2 mile hike to my stupid bank. We walked through tumbleweeds and rattlesnake holes, clinging to chain link fences six inches from a busy street until Palm Tree Avenue. I'd have to say it beat the eff out of walking on the strip in daylight though.
Where did we eat that day? Walgreens? Hahaha!
The extravagantly average hummer limo.
So, TAO night. Let's talk TAO night.
I'm still going back and forth about our dinner at trendy restaurant nightclub, TAO. I understand it is our friend's once in a lifetime bachelorette party dinner so on that front, I'm ok with the $18 cocktails, $35 fish dish and $20 pad thai appetizer I never ate but still paid for. I'm ok with the concept of spending money you don't want to spend for a very special occasion and smiling the whole way through. Honestly I do. Yet, my blood is still simmering at the waiter who rudely condemned us for ordering water, "Honey, in this town we say 'still water' when we want bottled and 'tap water' when we want tap." Angry at myself for not putting enough money aside for the night and having to rely on Claire and Ashley for money when I ran out. Frustrated that I couldn't politely blow off steam by telling Jess or Sofia how overrated the dinner was and how I'd never in my lifetime willingly throw my money down the toilet on dinner. And Hummer limos. And suites with broken cabinets, unflushable toilets and motor oil shampoo. Looking extravagant for photos and feeling like shit after the flash dies. But that's me and my warped sense of reality. I never was the girl with perfect make-up and charm and beauty pageant movements. And my favorite part of our last trip to Las Vegas was sitting under an interstate bridge crying and taking pictures.
And that's all I have to say on this subject for FOREVER... or until you buy me a whiskey sour and LV comes up in convo and then expect the dam to burst.
Jessica looked absolutely stunning on every night. In every theme. It was hard to keep up :)
We ordered drinks, gulped them down, ordered more, gulped them down and so on and so forth to feel like we got our money's worth at the open bar.
The next night, after a strange off-Broadway musical that forced us to look at droopy wieners for two hours, we tested the bars and nightclubs at Caesar's Palace. Our lucky bunch got handed free drink after free drink after free drink :) This is what I expected from lucky Vegas.
The rest of the night is shrouded in secrets and memories we'll keep private for the sake of being girls and pinkie promises and you'd have to be there-isms.
Rehab was perfect. Weather. Attitudes. Scenery. Guys with pecs who were polite and not sleazy.
There was one guy in the bachelor party next to us who looked like fat Russell Crowe and wouldn't talk to any of us. All the other guys were chatty and sweet and nonthreatening. Fat Russell Crowe was either afraid his girlfriend/fiance was spying on him or just afraid of girls in general. Finally finally finally, we broke him down and chatted about microbreweries. Turns out he's not that interesting anyway. Oh well :)
It kind of felt like being in an MTV Spring Break pool party without the ability to change channels.
Bud Light cures Lyme Disease, right?
The gross asshole who told Claire to lighten up.
It was really difficult to snap the lady wearing a see through white thong in the pool. She kept gyrating all over the place.
A quick stop at Pink Taco before heading to the airport...
A whole trip shrouded in secrets and pinkie promises and shared tears and beer mug confessions. We were open hearts and loudmouths, sirens and bossy sisters. We gave in to real human emotions in the most fake, superficial city in the world.
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