sweet home, chicago

Well, we are back from our Vegas extravaganza.  We came out ahead of the casinos (by about $50 – hey, better than in the hole $50!) and had a delightful time together.

I will write up a detailed, day-by-day report as soon as I get pics back from Frank.  Some things just can’t be explained with mere words.

General thoughts:

  • I would definitely go back to the Grand Canyon.  The pictures do not do justice to what it feels to be a tiny human standing at the edge of this natural phenomenon.
  • The Bellagio is lovely, but over-rated.  More on that later.  Suffice to say: Frank and I did not think that it was worth $100 to pay to work out.  Seriously, the gym was not included as part of the stay.
  • Buffets are awesome.
  • O (Cirque du Soleil) was amazing.  The imagery, colors, stunts, choreography, athleticism, music and overall experience were mind bending.  I have been practicing touching my toes and hopes that I might be able to stand still with the same grace and poise (unlikely, but worth the effort).
  • Grand Canyon – awesome.
  • Flight to the Grand Canyon – not as awesome.   Small Plane + Hot + Bumpy + Thunderstorms = Not happy times. I did not puke, I will have you know.  The girl in front of me was not so lucky.
  • Learned, during our Grand Canyon aviation experience that when Frank says, “Are you sick?” and I say, “Yes,” and he says, “Do you need a sick sack?” and I say, “No,” that we are miscommunicating.  Sick to me means feeling nauseated and having a head ache and the world is spinning.  Sick to Frank means “I am going to vomit.”
  • In sort of a experiential cliche, I sat next to two musicians/wannabe musicians on the way home from LAX.  Dude.
  • Grand Canyon – still awesome.  If you haven’t seen it, go see it.  Stop reading this post and start driving/flying to it.
  • I’m serious.  Grand Canyon.   It is both Grand and Canyon-y.
  • I always smile when I end a trip without exposing my dirty underwear at the baggage claim.  It stems from a childhood incident wherein my family’s luggage ripped apart en-route home from Orlando.  Our bag rounded the corner of the carousel, underwear laid out for the world to see.  At first we chuckled, not realizing it was our bag.   And then, horror of horrors, we realized that those panties hanging out were OUR panties.  NO!  Dad yanked the bag off of the carousel and tried to remedy the situation by taking off his belt and wrapping it around the suitcase.  Too small.  I don’t know what he eventually did.  I just know the car ride home was silent as we were all stricken by the experience.  So to say that I managed to end yet another vacation without sharing my blue and white polka dot undies with the fine folks at ORD, that is a big deal.

It’s good to be back home.  Thanks to Andy for the ride home tonight.  You’re  a fabulous brother.  (who I convinced to go on a 2 mile run with me at 9:30 am Saturday).

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