Sooo.... yeah. Vegas. City of lights, and machines that go *ping!*, and great shows and meals and shopping and whatnot. Also, city of smoke and dark and dryness, and expense and greed and timelessness. I understand the attraction, don't get me wrong. When we first stood in line to check in to our room, in the expansive lobby with the lion and the blinky things in the casino nearby and the crush of people, it was very exciting. It was someplace new, filled with possibility and adventure.
And it's not that I hate to gamble. I love to feed money into the slot machines, and pull the handle, and feel that thrill of winning. It's just that I hate the feeling afterwards, angry at myself for throwing money away on something so dumb. People who enjoy gambling say that you have to look at it the same way as spending money on a good meal or show - you're paying for the entertainment value, and as such you're not going to have anything to show for it, and you have to just accept that. I can't. I'm the kind of person who gets more happiness out of a good show or meal than kissy fish when you get a bonus at the Goldfish slots. The Ta, on the other hand, LOVED Vegas. Like, has already booked her next trip in February. She loved the gambling, and didn't feel the crushing disappointment and fury when she lost like I did. She loved the convenience of a Starbucks in the hotel, and the strip; these things were much better amenities than a pool or beachfront room for her, and she had a hard time understanding how I would prefer boring ol' swimming.
Maybe it has something to do with the different ways people unwind. On my weekends I'm a doer. I like to shop, and take Jelly places, and meet friends, and eat out. When I'm on vacation I like to divide my time between doing, and relaxing, and the beach is ideal for me for that. Some people like to just relax. Some people like to just do. All I know is, I would never choose Vegas as a vacation destination for me. And I was grateful every single second that I was there that I had decided not to take Jelly along.
It wasn't all the advertisements for Girls, Girls, Girls, or the sad bleary empty-eyed zombies still sitting at the tables at 4:30 am. It was partially the cloud of cigarette smoke that imbued everything, from the bathroom towels to the hallway carpets to my hair. It was partially the tourists, shoving past baby strollers like they were pieces of obtrusive furniture. But it was mostly the fact that, no matter what they are advertising, it is NOT a family-friendly place to visit. M&M World? There were identical items for sale at the Raleigh airport, and for better prices. None of the restaurants I saw were toddler-friendly. There sure as heck wasn't anything for short people to do in the casinos, unless you were staying somewhere like Circus Circus, and even then everything looked like it came with a price tag. And smoke. And scary clowns.
Since we unexpectedly stayed on East coast time, we were up before sunrise and in bed by 8pm most nights. This meant I missed out on some fun stuff. I also got a migraine one night, which I really tried not to let color my experience. Barfing all over the hotel bathroom wall was not cool. It meant I definitely wasn't going to risk any more drinking though, which probably impacted my fun factor. We did get to take in a Cirque de Soleil show, 'Ka', courtesy of Jonesy, which was awesome. We were so close we could feel the heat of the fireballs. There were a ton of things on our wish list that didn't get done simply because work or our bank balances got in the way, and to be fair, it was a work trip first and foremost. I'm not exactly dreading going back again next year, since there were definitely some high points. But I'm super-glad The Ta went with me for this first visit, as it would have been pretty lonely otherwise.
Also, I got a tattoo.
I love it.
I've been thinking about getting one for YEARS, and I figured Vegas was the perfect place to do so. I got it done on the fattest place on my body, the knickknack ledge between my waist and butt (NOT a tramp stamp, it would be fully covered by a bathing suit). Maybe that's why it TOTALLY DIDN'T HURT. No, seriously, at one point I felt very soothed by the whole thing - laying down on the table, the hum of the needle, the artist's delicate touch. I would honestly compare it to waxing - you know, that ouchy-but-short-lived pain. I was thrilled by the whole thing. Not in a 'going to get kitty whiskers tattooed on my face' way, but yeah, it was way more awesome than I expected. 'Club Tattoo', in the Planet Hollywood shops, tell Krystof I sent you.
And now my parents are here for a visit, which is SUPER awesome, because it meant that after a week away from home, Jelly gets to stay home for a full week! And then NEXT week - Thanksgiving vacation! Myrtle Beach!
Ok, right, back to this work thing...
1 comment:
I admit: When I first saw the tat photo on FB, I totally thought it was fake.
I have a draft post about mine, but I can't find the photo, or someone to take another decent one (the small child in my house, while fascinated with both the camera and my body art, hasn't done a good job of combining the two). And it's creepy to lift up your shirt and ask your dad to take a picture of your ink.
I don't think I'm much of a Vegas gal either. The NYE of the millenium my mom and I went to a riverboat gambling place. I was under the impression that the alcohol was free. She loves to gamble, I spent my budgeted 30 bucks in 15 minutes and wondered why I'd wasted it on something other than alcohol. It's a kind of fun, but I'm really much more of a beach person too.
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