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Vegas was…

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Two weekends ago we went to Vegas, and I realized that I never shared with you exactly how it went. Which was excellently.

Vegas was:

In the car, ready to go. Six in, five pm. On the road. Traffic, traffic, traffic. “Hey, you guys want to go to Outback Steakhouse?” A break early on. A cheers to a good trip. Back in the car, “Hey do you guys want to play a game?” Sitting on the dock of the bay, Eminem. On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair…Matt Nathanson pulling at my heartstrings. you wear white, and I’ll wear out the words ‘I love you’ and ‘you’re beautiful’.

Dunkin’ Donuts. Heart shaped donuts. Coffee, coffee, coffee. Two runs. “How could you go to the wrong Dunkin’ Donuts?” and “Just give him the muffins!” Pawn shop, just for the photos, and onwards to Target. Quick trips. Bathing suits, a discussion of clutches, and back into the car home. Make five sandwiches at once. Lettuce, lettuce, lettuce, lettuce, lettuce. Tomato, tomato…In the bag, out the door, onto the strip. Bellagio show, oohs and ahhs and oh, mys.

Sandwiches on the go. On to the Chinese New Year display, the glass flowers, and the terrifying bunny. Screaming on account of said bunny. Pause for a photograph, and camera DOWN. Making plans on the fly, over to Paris to get an Eiffel Tower. Penny slots, bathrooms, a snack, some coffee. Some Eiffel Tower buzz. Back in the car, onto the Beatles Bar. Stop to chat with Kevin, who promises us we’ll get in just fine. Revolution, noituloveR. love. Photographs, photographs galore. Back to the car, to get ready for the evening.

Curling irons, straighteners, two bathrooms, seven girls, seven dresses. Tights, jackets, earrings, gold, silver, teal, red, ruffles, hair ties, makeup, cover up, foundation, mascara. Wait for it, wait for it….ready. Boys have been ready. Out the door, into the car, two in the back, to the strip! Dinner oh là là! C’est parfait! “Guys, I’m having a great time.” Cheers to our trip. A gluten free menu, delicious bread, surrounded by friends. Cheers to a birthday. A happy birthday dessert. “If you paired up everyone on earth with someone of the opposite sex…” and the argument that persists into the main course. Math to pay, out the door…

dance floor. Let’s get it started (in here). Dancing, dancing, dancing, “Have you met my friend?” and introductions as our own matchmaker scourges the club for suitors. But the club can’t even handle me right now/just dance (gonna be O.K.)/and tonight I’m ****ing you/don’t get fancy, just get dancey….and the DJ’s got us fallin’ in love/bottoms up/throw your hands up…and we’re IN the subwoofer…move to the front of the club, side of the club, find a friend, lose a friend, find another, chaos/go shorty, it’s your birthday/I’ve gotta feelin’…

four hours later, dance floor bumpin’ and it’s time to go. Lost wallet? Quick scan of the floor, nowhere to be seen, gotta go…3 am, in the car, consoling, because tonight’s gonna be a good night…to the hot tub. Lost some numbers, still four strong, and four a.m. comes, and time for bed.

wake. check out time, 20 minutes. Clean up, rally troops. Remember bits and pieces of last night. Move into other room. Leave four girls behind, head into bed with M and C. Snuggle. Boyfriend invasion, asking for coffee orders. God, I love this man. C orders two, but it’s her bday, so she can. Living room to hang out and watch basketball, and chat, and remember more bits and pieces…make some calls, find the city’s building, eat some donuts. Head to the police station, six in tow. Photogenic moment at the Council Chambers, misplaced green parking meter. a few minutes here, then onwards to the Mirage, for a lost card…looks like R isn’t the only one missing things…walking with the slowest security guard ever, into the secret hallways of the Mirage…card back, car full of laughter. “Who the **** is that?” on the radio, and an explanation of street vendors’ gossip.

Lions (no tigers or bears, oh my.) Meet at the lion. Lions, sleeping (18 hours a day!) and onto lunch. A hot dog, some ice cream, a bit of pizza, it sure is vacation. Back to the lion, meet at the lion, back to the hotel. Meet up with the pool crew, pack it up, head out. Twilight, dusk, and jumping photos are.a.must. “…and when i’m with you I feel like I could die and that would be all right” crank up the radio. Loading the cars, and S is on top of the SUV, and B is leaping gracefully through the photo, and everyone else is jumpin’ jumpin. If I ever get the nerve to say hello in this cafe… Checking out, and in the car. Gas up the car, off to The Sign. Newly paved, new parking lot, they’re getting smart, walkie-talkie our locale, and it’s time for more jumpin’ jumpin’. We all smile. Dark now, ready for home, but not before one….or two….last pictures.

Hugs all around. Walkie-talkies passed out, and ready to go. Cars loaded, “Hey guys, do you want to play a game?” Chit-chatter, chit-chatter. “Hey guys, we’re going to stop at Outback Steakhouse in a few minutes, here.” Giggles, that won’t stop. Deliberation, change of plans, and…Chipotle. Eating quickly, still laughing, seemingly influenced, but completely not. Laughing, giggling, “Guys I’m having a great time.” Back in the car.

Chit, chat, chatter all. the. way. home. Squished, smeared kiss. One last photo opportunity. Laughs, and cleaning the car, and some hugs. Driving J home. One last hug. Back to bed, smiling. “I saw you spinning back in time…”

Best weekend ever.

Vegas was bliss.

VEGAS was…

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…driving, driving, the Killers. Jesse McCartney, and this is my jam. Driving, windows up, tunes up, water, camera, and driving. Three hours, time ticks, workout mix and folksy songs, so sorry Jeff. Then trickling through civilization…a roller coaster, outlet malls, but not the real Vegas. Katy Perry. A discussion on cherry chapstick. Then closer, closer, everyone awake, through the Mojave, thank God. Then traffic, and slowing, and shit, the car is not driving. Thank God we didn’t stop for me to pee. Thank God we’re not in the Mojave. Jumping to action, two iPhones, no one sitting in the sun, AAA. He said, she said. Move out of the sun! UV Index of 9! Out of the sun. Everyone out of the car. “If you’re in the car, you should have your seat belt on.” and “What are you doing” as if the officer thought we pulled over just for kicks. Arranging a ride, waiting for a tow. “This is my lucky day” but really it was OUR lucky day – four seats in a tow truck. Dropping off the car, nearly inviting the B-look alike to come out with us, being so damn close to the Orleans. What a way to start the weekend.

hot. so hot, I’m melting. sunshine, beating down, and UV index of 9. Into our room. Bags down. Bathing suits on. Pool side pizza, pool side service, pool side mai tai. In the pool, drink in hand. Laughing, gossiping, perfect.

Back, shower, change, dry hair, where’s my dress? hair ties, what time is it, hairspray, combs, makeup, dresses, boys ready, girls chattering, getting ready...8 o’clock, time to GO. Cab ride later, dinner, pink shirts and black shirts and skirts and dresses and curls and bangs and Italian. Bread, oil on dress, people watching, laughing, spicy pizza, too much pasta. Too much laughter, never enough, stories, plans, reminiscing about the summer, and its near end…

Then on, dancing, “get up here if it’s your birthday” and “Absolutely not” and suddenly she’s on the bar, dancing like it’s her birthday, go party, like it’s your birthday. Dancing, dresses, dancing with friends, dancing with strangers, because this is my JAM. Singing along, singing loudly, singing louder, singing to each other, singing for each other, singing for you.

Walk on, street to bridge to street to Luxor, to the longest. line. ever. Maybe we should ride the inclinators? Follow tourists to the elevators — these are wrong. “They have bags, quick, let’s follow them!” Riding the inclinator, making up a story about someone on 23, “What room did they say?” but really riding for the ride. Inclinator, Rachel, goes right, and left, up and to the right, up and to the left? We’re still not sure.

And somewhere, romantic pictures with RM, and with each other, and smiles, and borrowed socks because her feet hurt so badly that she will NOT wear her heels any longer.

Rejoin the team. Plan? Bowling in dresses? At 1:00 am? Sure, let’s go! Back in the taxi line, back to the hotel, socks, boys getting comfortable, showing off my spine-safe skills, then to bowling…”Eff it, I’m going without socks.” Gathering money, $6, one game, cheaper than LA, yes, please. Dallas beats JDubbs, but not JTMoney, not Slyd. Then C’s phone breaks, of course it does, because how could this night be better? It couldn’t. And I still see my stain, two oily polka dots…

3:00 am to bed, air mattress, and chicken fingers. And sleep…

…wake, to bagels, to friends, to checking out, to sticking around. Hugging 13, takes all morning, and shark attack. And everyone is gone. And we’re still here. ATT and Starbucks, and I AM MELTING because it’s 110 and I want to go back to cool LA…lunch, cool, below the Venetian, then walking, walking, “THIS IS WHERE…” whispers to C, D, and R about past visits to Vegas, smiling for more pictures, laughing, a human statue…back to the car, rented, to take us home. Packing, no time to gamble, a hug, and we’re on the road…AC up, tunes blaring, one nap, mostly talking, chattering, Dunkin Donuts, and Sheryl Crow, because: We’re leaving Las Vegas (leaving for good.)