Hazel, I'm truly amazed that you read my blog so unholy early in the morning and that I get a response so quickly after posting my last sorrowful tirade, you're hardcore, and if I can help you get going in the morning I'm not the one denying you your morning fix, :-D. I've done some talking with important people in my life and once again I feel loved and appreciated, thank you, guys!
When visiting Las Vegas I caught myself thinking this I have to write on my blog and this picture will be perfect for my blog, so I'm obviously not done writing. It's a neverending story...
When visiting Las Vegas I caught myself thinking this I have to write on my blog and this picture will be perfect for my blog, so I'm obviously not done writing. It's a neverending story...
What Happens in Vegas...
...stays in Vegas. Except herpes. Las Vegas is legendary, we have all seen the shaking film clips of the bright lights in the night to the sound of pumping music. Here couples elope to get married, but usually marriage is the last thing on people's mind. Gambling, strip tease, drinking in the street. Welcome to Sin City.
We left 5 am Friday morning from Santa Barbara. Two cars went in the morning and one in the afternoon. Eddie, Apple and I went to Santa Monica to pick up Hippie (who just landed in LA on his world tour spanning from China, the Philippines and Japan and now the North American West Coast) and Nightingale. It's a five hour drive, mostly through the unforgiving Nevada desert.
The first stop was an outlet. I bought the most adorable Converses with orange laces and Hippie got "matching" pink ones with neon green laces. You cannot take yourself too seriously when walking the streets in those bright colors, but no one takes me seriously anyway, so why should I start doing it?
To get into the clubs you need to maintain a certain dress code, including black shoes for men (women can dress how they like, they are to rare to reject). Eddie and Apple who might be the worst shoppers ever, had a hard time finding black shoes in the outlet. Nightingale and I finally dragged them into a store where they got the cheapest shoes they could find, and we were ready to hit the dance floor.
We stayed in Luxor, a hotel with a giant sfinx in front and formed as a pyramid. Like all the other hotels, there was a casino in the bottom floor. The first night we went to LAX, the club in our hotel, right after midnight the day Pokerface's girlfriend turned 21! We sang and drank for her and made a very improvised birthday cake from a muffin.
Saturday we walked along the Strip, entered the hotels and marveled at the sights. Most of the hotels have a theme, for example the Venetian, where there is an indoors channel with gondolas and a fake sky in the ceiling.
The first stop was an outlet. I bought the most adorable Converses with orange laces and Hippie got "matching" pink ones with neon green laces. You cannot take yourself too seriously when walking the streets in those bright colors, but no one takes me seriously anyway, so why should I start doing it?
To get into the clubs you need to maintain a certain dress code, including black shoes for men (women can dress how they like, they are to rare to reject). Eddie and Apple who might be the worst shoppers ever, had a hard time finding black shoes in the outlet. Nightingale and I finally dragged them into a store where they got the cheapest shoes they could find, and we were ready to hit the dance floor.
We stayed in Luxor, a hotel with a giant sfinx in front and formed as a pyramid. Like all the other hotels, there was a casino in the bottom floor. The first night we went to LAX, the club in our hotel, right after midnight the day Pokerface's girlfriend turned 21! We sang and drank for her and made a very improvised birthday cake from a muffin.
Saturday we walked along the Strip, entered the hotels and marveled at the sights. Most of the hotels have a theme, for example the Venetian, where there is an indoors channel with gondolas and a fake sky in the ceiling.
Or Caesar's Palace, build in "ancient" architecture and with Romans á la Asterix-style walking around waiving to the visitors. In Paris, the Eiffel tower is one third of the original 's height and we managed to get pretty good breakfast croissants. I felt like a cultural snob walking there, looking at the fake copies of European cities, together with an Italian guy and a French girl, dropping comments like "What on earth does a Trojan horse do in Caesar's Palace?" and I didn't even notice all the statues and fountains with mythical creatures and gods, because, well, that's what people have as garden gnomes back home.
Outside Bellagio there is a fountain that follows the sound of music.
Outside Bellagio there is a fountain that follows the sound of music.
In the night we went to Pure, a night club in Caesar's Palace, and danced on the roof with a view of the neon lit night. Interesting fact is that women entered the club for free, while men had to pay $30. I don't mind saving money, but that is still discriminating. But it's good for business, I suppose, because the more girls in the club, the more men will it attract and the more money will they make in the bar and entrance fees. Money that is used in a dollar rain on the dance floor. That only happens in Las Vegas. My feet hurt like hell when I got back at 5am to the hotel, the price of wearing high heels, but it was totally worth it.
The others gambled a bit, but I don't really like the idea of games of chance, and I'm not good enough when it comes to poker or black jack, so I let it be. As a concept, Las Vegas is interesting, a temple devoted to Bacchus and lust, where the god is money and your worth and dignity depends on the pile of poker chips in your palm. The night flashes by at the pace of a racing heart, ready to live and burn, as if it will burst from the first sunbeam.
Sunday we got back, early enough for me to finish my logic assignment due today at 6.30 this morning.
Sunday we got back, early enough for me to finish my logic assignment due today at 6.30 this morning.
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