Vegas, Baby!

Okay, so I feel a bit strange coming back from my month+ of blog silence and starting with this post.  First of all, so sorry to all of you who sit by your computers every day waiting for me to post something life-changing.  I have three reasons why I have been incommunicado as of late:

1. When I started blogging, I was in serious need of an outlet for the thoughts that were keeping me up at night, and I had A LOT of time on my hands.  Since we moved to OK, I have no time on my hands because if I am not on an excursion with my children to the science museum, the zoo, or one of many friends’ pools, I am grabbing dinner or drinks with friends, seeing real live adult movies (movies for adults, not movies with naked people), or dominating the OKC metro area in trivia smackdowns.  In other words, I’m doing all the things people do when they live near their family.  And it has been beyond revivifying.  (I just wanted to use the word revivifying.)
2. When I am not out doing all of the aforementioned activities, I have become obsessed with a few ridiculous things that are complete wastes of time on some level, but then again, I believe any time enjoyed is not wasted.  (I’m sure someone wise said this once.)  I will probably blog about these fantastictimewasters another time.
3. I actually felt like I needed a little break from blogging.  Just as clergy, professors, and other professionals who are shaping the minds of society, bloggers need to take a break every now and then to reflect, relax, and remember that no one really cares that much about what we have to say.

So, that said.  This post is going to be everything that is wrong with me, all of the parts that I need to fix, all the dirtiest, most shameful parts because it’s about Las Vegas--sin city, people!  My husband just completed a 5 1/2 month course during which we did not see him and barely communicated even via Skype and phone.  The end of the course resulted in a graduation ceremony held at The Flamingo on the Vegas strip.  Here are the six wives who begrudgingly accepted roses from some guy we had never met thanking us for our sacrifice:

I started out trying to create some sort of narrative structure, a story about our time in Vegas, but it just wasn’t coming together at all, so I have just compiled some snippets about my experience (I’m a Vegas virgin, BTW).  I’m not going to apologize for anything I’m about to say--underneath the lovely exterior that is Leia lurks a judgmental, hateful beast that has never dined more exquisitely than it did on the fleshy, delicious feast that is Las Vegas.

In the limo on the way to graduation!

We arrived in Vegas on Wednesday to find that some jackhole had stolen one of my purses out of my suitcase, and it happened to be the one with all my jewelry.  When I say “my jewelry,” I really mean a few pairs of my earrings and a bunch of my mom’s jewelry that I had borrowed.  Oh, the purse was hers, too.  Luckily most of it was costume jewelry, but I am mourning the loss of  one of my favorite silver necklaces--one that was given to me by my 7th grade boyfriend, Ryan Strong.  (He also gave me a lovely candy bouquet, and I broke up with him like three days later to go out with Victor Tobin, but I digress.)  My good friend, Jamie, whose husband also went through this awful AF “experience,” was nice enough to loan me earrings and a necklace for the formal event.  You can read her take on this Las Vegas experience HERE.

Our room at New York New York was big enough for a family of eighteen, but there wasn’t much furniture, so it was just wide open space with a view of the roller coaster.  I guess all the extra space was for the coolers of beer we so classily purchased to avoid spending $12 on a Bud Light and to support our day drinking habit.  Also, there was plenty of room for a tiger and a naked Asian man if need be.  (Consider obligatory Hangover reference fulfilled.)

Vegas was exactly what I expected on some level--sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll, an homage to all that is dirty and wrong in the world.  So, imagine my surprise when there were children everywhere we went--in the casinos at one in the morning, lounging at the pool among the surgically altered and tattooed trainwrecks, and walking down the porn-littered sidewalks.  (Okay, technically those little cards that clickclickclicked at us weren’t porn, but if the only thing between me and a pair of G-cup gazongas are tiny white stars covering the nips, it’s close enough.)  What is wrong with these people?  Take your kids to Six Flags for the sake of all things holy, and save Vegas for your girls’ weekend away.

Just me and the girls hanging out!

We established a Vegas drinking game (which seems utterly redundant) while lounging at the pool one day.  Here are the rules (and this is where that dark side of me comes out--this is a no holds barred judgement):

1. Tramp stamp on a girl--take a drink.
2. Tramp stamp on a guy--take two drinks.
3. Breast implant scars visible because of inappropriate bikini--take two drinks.
4. Faux hawk--take a drink.
5. Obvious steroid back acne visible through tribal tattoos--take two drinks.
6. Bee sting lips--take a drink.
7. Inappropriate displays of public affection to include: ass-grabbing, boob-honking, or crotch-fondling while standing in a pool surrounded by people--take two drinks and get the hell out of the pool.
8. 60+ gold-blinged man accompanied by modelesque 20-year-old--take two drinks and shudder.
9. Wet t-shirt contest and/or booty-shaking contest with at least one contestant clearly too intoxicated to stand, let alone dance--take three drinks.
10. Wheelchair-bound, oxygen-toting, penny-slots-playing grandma--take two drinks (make it three if she is smoking Capri menthols).

Everyone knows the Vegas motto: what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas (unless you blog about it).  I decided to come up with some alternates:


**Vegas: STDs for Everyone!
**Vegas: Watch Out for Falling Boob Jobs!
**Vegas: Where It's Okay to Wear Sequins to Breakfast
**Vegas: Your One Stop Shop for All Your White Trash Needs
**Vegas: Like An Ashtray Full of Rotten Beef and Prostitute Vomit Sitting in the Sun


That last one might be too long, but it has a certain je ne sais quoi.


One thing I will say about Vegas that I enjoyed was the food.  At the end of the five days of eating, we DID have to take out a second mortgage on our house, but at least it was yummy.

The Blue Meanies are among my favorite fictional characters of all time.   I didn't care if people were staring at me while I posed with a giant stuffed meanie.  If I'd had a bigger purse, I would have carried him out with me.

The highlight of the trip for me was seeing Cirque du Soleil’s Love.  Raised an avid Beatles fan, I was in pure entertainment heaven.  I spent an hour and forty-five minutes holding back tears each time a new song came on, and I’m glad there weren’t cameras on me because I’m pretty sure I looked something like this the whole time:

Overall, I can’t say I was that impressed with Vegas.  I mean, maybe it’s just that I’ve traveled extensively and can think about a million other places I’d rather spend my time (i. e. the real NYC, the west coast of Africa, the middle of nowhere, Scott’s grandmother’s nursing home).  Maybe it’s because I’m too old and boring.  I just kept thinking “Why did all my friends love going to Vegas so much?”  And then I remembered all my friends were either drunk or high half the time when we were younger, and I had a Vegas epiphany: this WOULD be fun IF I was completely wasted.  Which I was not.

So, I can check that box and move on with life.  I did have a fantastic time catching up with friends from all over the country, and it didn’t suck to see my husband for the first time in 5 1/2 months either.

Basking in the post-Love glow in front of the Bellagio fountains!

When we found out a wedding would cost $188, and they wouldn't let us take pictures, we just found a trellis and snapped some pretend wedding pictures.  Josh was an excellent officiant.

Thanks for reading, and hopefully this post marks my getting back on the blog wagon!