We interrupt our regularly scheduled emotional roller coaster for a brief recap of our adventures in Vegas.
My mom arrived at 6:15 a.m. to take me to the airport. She’s a peach. She watched me give myself my trigger shot and then helped me wipe off the dripping blood and gently confirmed that I gave myself the shot in the vein and “man, it’s already bruising!” Awesome. Uneventful (blood-free) time at the airport. Had a snack. Got on the plane. Mechanical issue. Lovely. Had some soda (delish). Arrived in Vegas.
First of all, Vegas wants your money. If you didn’t know that about Vegas, they make it apparent the minute you step off of the plane. “Emmmmily – oh, Emmmmmily! Come play our slots! Your bags are going to take a while – have a seat, get out some quarters and let the good times roll!”
My will power was too much for them. I walked past the slot machines with hardly a backward glance. Hardly.
I picked up my bags at the carousel, called Frank and got on a shuttle to the Bellagio. Arrived at the Bellagio, found husband, changed, went on a mission for food. Emily was VERY hungry. Mmmm.
Then we proceeded to walk most of the strip, all the way up to the Venetian. This is one place where one block of walking equals 12 blocks.
We saw 10,234 slot machines on our little adventure.
The below picture is us being awesome at the Venetian.
The nice thing about the Venetian: indoors and air conditioned. Dry heat is still heat, my friends. Don’t give me crap about dry heat when it is 105 degrees outside. Heat is heat.
I was glowing (or perspiring like a mo-fo).
After our sweaty trek, we went back to the hotel and got ready for dinner. Because we are connoisseurs of the buffet, we were naturally looking forward to tables and tables of meat and cheese and other delightful confections. First stop: the Wynn Buffet.
This picture is me trying not to be too obvious about how hungry I am. This is at the atrium of the Wynn hotel. It was my favorite hotel in Vegas, hands down.
And this picture, well, this is me preparing to eat my husband for dinner. And I don’t mean it like that. Well, maybe I do. You tell me: is this a “come hither” look or is it a “I want my dinner” look?
Finally, after 45 minutes of hoping and dreaming and praying that we would one day be at the front of the line – we were! Eureka!
Our delight over our first meal resulted in two of the only food photos of the trip, but I am not going to post those here. I don’t want anyone to be jealous (and also, Frank didn’t upload them to our Flickr account – dirty!!)
Then we walked back from the Wynn and decided to try to take in a very scandelous free show outside of Treasure Island. Lots of gyrating female and male dancers in skimpy clothing. Good thing people brought their kids. “Hey kids, look what you can be when you grow up!” Awesome.
Anyway – here is me outside of the Wynn. Love. It.
Then we stopped at the Bellagio to take in the famous fountain display. For a desert, that sure was a lot of water.
And then… bed time. Cuz we party like rockstars, yo.
Got up, tried to go for a run. While Vegas is a town that accepts only beautiful people (naturally attained or otherwise), they sure don’t want to do a lot to help you get beautiful. Because when you are running on a treadmill, you can’t play the slots. And if you are not drinking or gambling, they are not making money.
What I am trying to say is that the fine folks at the Bellagio wanted us to pay $50 for both of us to use their fine workout facilities.
Instead, I opted to sit at the pool and consider life. And read a saucy romance novel.
Once we were finished with being awesome poolside, we decided to enjoy yet another buffet. Mmmm.
And then we walked the strip. In the Dry Heat. Not so dry when you’re sweating through your socks, though.
Which leads us to Caesar’s Palace. “Caesar, let’s go that way!” “No, Frank and Emily, let’s go THAT way!” Well, the Roman empire is no more, so I guess we all know how it turned out. Should have listened to us, Mr. Caesar.
Frank asked the Egyptian Santa for a flat screen TV for Christmas. We will see if Egyptian Santa delivers. (I’m not betting on it – he looked a little shady)
Later that night, after I showered (again), we went out to the Palms. The Palms was very cool. We went up to the Playboy Club (which was more tame (visually speaking) than any of the casino bars, by far) and had a cocktail. Then we headed over to the other tower of the Palms and went up to the Ghostbar, which was Frank’s favorite bar of all. He was giddy with excitement. Giddy. I’m not kidding. Have you ever seen Frank giddy? Well, I have. This is what it looks like:
The Grandest Canyon of them all. And probably the best day of our trip. I loved, loved, loved it. Except for the part where I almost puked. And the part where we got stuck in the rain. But whatever – a small price to pay, in my opinion. I’d do it all over again (but with an umbrella).
Tired, mostly dry (but a little wet), we made our way back to our hotel.
Because seeing one of the most magnificient wonders of God’s creation wasn’t enough for one day, we also went to see Cirque du Soleil’s “O”. “O” is the phonetic speaking of the french word “Eau” which means “water.” (Not sure why I used all the quotes, but really – if you stayed with me this long, you probably don’t care. You probably just want me to end this torturous play-by-play of our vacation and put you out of your misery. Quotes are the least of your problems if you made it this far.) Anyway, the point being, the stage was water. Or, more accurately, it was a pool with an adjustable floor that went up and down depending on the scene.
“O” reminded me of two things: 1) I am not flexible. The most daring feat I accomplish is touching my toes. Touching my toes while balancing on the forehead of a woman who is balancing all of her weight on her big toe, which is securely placed on a trapeze – well, that’s why they made the Darwin Awards. 2) I am a spoiled brat. After the first two amazing sequences where people were swinging through the air, attached to another human being by only the friction created by their leg hair and their abnormally strong big toes, I started to be less impressed with, say, diving off of a several story platform, into a pool of water. I can barely bring myself to jump into a pool from the side, much less a diving board SEVERAL stories in the air.
My own personal guilt aside, it was a beautiful show. I really enjoyed it.
And I’m spent. Thanks for reading about our Vegas adventure!