Vay Goose II

The Vegas trip is getting better.

Last night we (friend and I) went to the fabulous Wynn for drinks and dinner. We were seated on a terrace adjacent to a waterfall light show which involved a gigantic anatromic frog singing "It's a Wonderful World" and statues of nude people who appeared to be zombies walking to their deaths in the depths of the waterfall. Then the giant dancing flowers and bullfight began (I kid you not) and I had to change my jaded stance that Vegas was not so great because HOW AWESOME are bullfights mixed with zombies walking to their death and a strong cocktail served to you by a pretty waitress while no children climb up your legs? PRETTY AWESOME.

Then we walked to the Venetian which is exactly like Disney if it were peopled ENTIRELY by drunk gamblers AND I saw the most scantily clad woman of my life. So that was fascinating. There are a lot of breasts in Vegas. I know I shouldn't be surprised but like WOW every other woman was either half naked with ginormous fake tits or looked like Aunt Suzy on her way to the mall. Wild.

And then my feet really really hurt because I was wearing very pretty high heels which were not big fans of the cobblestones of the Venetian, so we took a cab home and crashed.

Tonight, I check into the Hard Rock Hotel, which apparently has the best Friday night parties around for the young and hip (like me, duh!) and a POOL BAR, all for half the price of the crappy hotel I've been stuck at for a conference.

Viva Las Vegas!

Vay Goose

I am in Las Vegas. It's nowhere CLOSE to being as thrilling as you'd think. I'm here for work. I didn't even leave the hotel yesterday. Last night, after standing in high heels in front of my booth all day, I had pizza in my room for dinner and went to sleep at 9:00 pm. Then I woke up at 5:00 this morning and now I have nothing to do and nowhere cool to go. I'm watching Dawson's Creek and blogging. I'm utterly pathetic.

I swear, I'm not so old and stogy that I am incapable of enjoying the flashy pleasures of Vegas. I'd like to think that if Hubby were here, we'd be going out at night for fine dining and a crazy show or two. But frankly, we'd probably only do that once and then we'd be so tempted by the prospect of taking a nap with no children climbing on our heads, that we'd totter off to our room and order pizza anyway.

Maybe you have to be a certain kind of person to appreciate Vegas. Don't get me wrong, I find this place fascinating and beautiful even with all the garish trappings and cheesy advertisements. But maybe that's what rubs me the wrong way. Everything here is for sale. And they're not going to let you forget it. I just don't have a comfortability with blowing wads of money on a Vegas Experience (nor can I afford it, frankly).

This is starting to sound rather preachy or even worse, Pollyanna-ish (a fate worse than death OR Vegas) and that is NOT my intention. Hey, I can be the biggest consumer whore in the world given my ongoing love affair with the Macy's sales racks and shoe sellers everywhere. I delight in pouring over a Pottery Barn catalog (Which Hubby calls my house porn) and fantasizing how I could transform my house into something from the pages of Dwell (after spending copious quantities of moola). I know how to SPEND! I even really appreciate going out to a great restaurant or buying a fantastic bottle of wine on occasion. I guess I need to go out somewhere interesting tonight (so far, the Las Vegas Hilton is pretty unspectacular) and see some sights and then maybe I'll finally get it. Maybe.

Now I'm off to eat cold pizza for breakfast. Mmmmm. Yummy!