What Happened in Vegas

                What happens in Vegas – takes nine years to make it to my blog.  But.  I have excuses.  (Like you care.)  Firstly, I intended to post pictures.  Well I haven’t tracked down the camera cord so I’m throwing in the towel for now.  Secondly, I got a new job and there is a ton to learn. Lastly, I’ve been waiting on my new computer because well, I’ve been trying to use Boyfriend’s lately and it really just threw off my groove.  And we all know how well that works out for me.

                Now – let’s see if I can recall my vacation from two months ago. 

Airline: Southwest –hooray direct flights and your boyfriend getting a kick out of watching The Hangover on the plane on the way to Las Vegas

Hotel: Planet Hollywood – we say yes, stay there if you happen to be shopping in our price point

                Day one – we flew in around 8pm Vegas time.  I couldn’t sleep on my way there since I’m the best girlfriend in the whole entire world  and let my boyfriend have an aisle seat and I flew in the middle, giving up my window nap spot.  We went to dinner and then to the piano bar in New York New York.  If you have not gone there yet.  You must.  It was life changing. Seriously, incredibly entertaining. Aaaand that’s when my body was all “It’s actually 2:30am, my time, I don’t care what your stupid Blackberry says about 11:30pm get me to bed rightthissecond.”  We were like half a mile from the hotel and I’m pretty sure I whined and asked to be carried all the way back.  So much to see and all I care about is sleeping.  Typical.

                Day two – great thing about going west on east coast time is you get to make the most of your first day there.  I woke up at 8am ready to goooo.  I got to experience my first Vegas breakfast buffet.  Worth it’s weight in gold I say.  Then off to tour as many casinos as we could in one day.   We enjoyed a happy hour at a country bar and then headed back to the room to compose ourselves.  From the 36^th floor of Planet Hollywood, mid-strip, Mandalay Bay looks like it’s a reasonable walking distance to go see the shark exhibit.  IT. IS. NOT.  Know that.  Sharks were cool – learned I can’t take a single, steady picture after four tall-boy Bud Lights but whatev.  Learned I will whine my way to hopping on the rollercoaster at New York New York after said Bud Lights.  Also learned that Boyfriend is a HUGE fan of souvenir pics.  I loved that day.

                Day three – the first time everyone tried to scare me to death.  We spent the day by the pool since it was a glorious 80-something degrees and met Boyfriend’s brother (who lives out there) for dinner and a trip to Fremont St.  Where all the local crazies hang out.  Also where they set up a life ruining zip line that Joe’s wife insisted we go on.  The thing about this is.  You have to wait in life for like an hour watching all these other people go and risk death, thinking about how safe a zip line built on scaffolding could really be.  And in my case, you have your boyfriend’s brother to capitalize on your fear and offer additional suggestions as to how you may meet your demise.  I was sure to ask the kid strapping me in if I was going to die.  He said something about not wanting to be charged with second-degree murder.  Which, coincidentally, I found concerning that he was so specific about which degree of murder my question was going to result in. I didn’t die.  I didn’t look down either.  I don’t want to ever do that again.

                Day four – more pool, dinner at the Wynn, swing by Treasure Island to watch them sink the pirate ship the singing hookers choreographed by the High School Musical guy dance around, tickets for Cirque de Solei, and crossyourfingers he’ll forgot about the Stratosphere rides.

                Wynn was to-die-for, Treasure Island was amusing, Cirque? I…didn’t get it.  It was super neat.  I can’t believe those people can do those things.  But.  I didn’t get it. And that’s when someone was all – well we’re so close to the Stratosphere we have to go.

…

Side.eye.

                This is the part when you note the lack of alcohol in my evening to deter my rational fear of hanging out thousands of feet over Las Vegas and hoping for the best.  I rode one ride.  My heart almost stopped.  And I almost fell down the stairs getting off of it because my legs were so shaky.  He ended up gifting some teenagers suckers on our way out with free tickets to the other rides.  He took some pictures of the view while we were up there, I stared at the ice in my glass.

The kid told me to smile.  I said no.

                In summary, yes – stay in the middle of the strip, or the Venetian or Caesars Palace, but for regular people like us, Planet Hollywood is awesome.  You do not have to drink your face off or walk into a single “club” to have a great time.  Yes – go see the lions and the tigers and the dolphins.  Yes let your boyfriend buy all the souvenir pictures he can.  But you definitely should go into the mall there – grab a fruity rum drink as tall as you are and wander around looking at things you could never afford. Yes, put ten dollars in a slot machine – win more than I did.  And YES – go to Vegas for four days and take me with you.  I’ll show you the good stuff…from ground level.