musings on sin city

Wow, I'd like to apologize now for severely neglecting my blog the last few weeks. To my defense, I've been quite busy (mostly self-inflicted business since I haven't been employed since about March) the whole time. Three of those weeks I spent in a perpetual finals week stress mode called EMT school, and another three I spent backpacking through Europe with my sister (a decent college/EMT graduation present to myself if you ask me). Now that I'm back, I'm trying rapidly to figure out a plan to pay rent before my summer slips away and I have to pack up my life and transport it to Washington DC for PA school. If you have any creative job suggestions, please feel free to leave them here in my virtual suggestion box.

So now that you're pretty much caught up on my life, time to think of something typically LA to post about... Hey at least I'm sparing you the play-by-play of my European adventures. Sometimes I feel like people tend not to really want to hear all about Europe unless they've already been there and can hold up their end of the conversation with anecdotes about British humor or Hungarian goulash, in which case my story is really just another permutation of their own trip and writing about it for their sake would be redundant. This is at least how I felt before I made my own European memories. So I guess if you really truly want to know, ask me.

My upcoming travel plans are in country, but not in California... and yet in a way are uniquely LA just because so many of us Los Angeleans make the pilgrimage to this desert oasis every weekend. Where is this rite of passage mecca? Vegas, duh.

Vegas holds a special place in my heart. Even way before I was of legal drinking age, my family would plan vacations to the city of lights and my cousins and I would wander "lost" in the casinos for hours while secretly searching every slot machine for forgotten change. I'm still bitter that they recently converted all their machines so that they no longer dispense coins with that loud, clanking, let-everyone-near-know-you're-a-winner-even-if-its-only-dropping-nickels sound, but instead feed you an anticlimactic slip of paper with your final tally which you then have to turn in for real cash. Anyway, we probably came out more ahead by the end of the trip than any of the adults... Unless of course we blew it all at the arcade games at Circus Circus.

I once worried that Vegas would loose its charm once I grew up and out of the magic stores and water slides... but boy was I wrong. When you turn 21, this entire world you didn't know existed previously just appears out of nowhere on the four mile stretch that is the strip. I've been three times since that momentous birthday. Each trip was unique, memorable, and to put it in more realistic terms, a total shitshow. This time I'm going with a few of my favorite people on the planet for what feels to me kind of like a last hurrah, since we may not get a chance to all be together like this for quite a while. I'm stoked.

The other ironic thing about Vegas is that I don't even gamble! Ok, maybe I'll spend $5 on slots or $20 at the blackjack tables, but in Vegas terms, thats nothing. Mostly, I go for the free pirate shows at TI, the poolside lounging with Fat Tuesdays in tow, sightseeing at the next big hotel (there's always a new one), seeing just how many people we can fit into a double room, buffets, watching the corny marble statue show at Caesar's, hitting up awesome clubs, looking out for awesomely ridiculous outfits, and maybe even catching the latest Cirque du Soleil show... if there's time. Like I said, its hard to run out of things to do here. Once I even managed to stay up long enough to watch the sun rise.

Well, since I don't plan on watching the sun rise today, I'd better head to bed. Maybe I'll go pick out my heels for Saturday night first...