Last night was the pre-wedding pizza party, which was fun. And a little awkward, since one of Kris’s bridesmaids is a former friend of mine who I don’t speak to anymore. I mean, we did the “half-second eye contact and nod at each other” thing, and then we spent the rest of the evening making a conscious effort to avoid each other. Luckily the way we were seated helped, but it was kind of strange trying to avoid turning my head to the right because I didn’t want to have to try to make civil conversation with someone I genuinely dislike.
Really, it’s my fault. Our falling out was three years ago. I should be over it by now, I know that. And I know she wants to forget about it, because that’s her personality, to gloss over all of the bad stuff and to pretend like everything is fine and happy and wonderful. I just can’t do it. I can’t let it go when someone hurts me.
Anyway, since that was incredibly uncomfortable, I really wanted a cocktail to help me relax. But the pizza place only had wine and beer, so I stuck to water. After the pizza party ended, I hung out with my friend Linda and her husband Taiki, and some of their friends. We found a place that served fruity vodka drinks, which is what I’d been craving. We had fun playing “hooker or tourist,” the game in which you spot all of the whorishly dressed women and guess if they’re actual hookers or just tourists. Sadly, most were tourists. The hookers are hard to spot because they’re always in a hurry. You know, places to go, people to do, what-have-you.
I had a great time hanging out with them, I think is what I’m saying. And Linda’s friends are awesome, because I didn’t pay for a thing all night. Very nice.
I got little bit tipsier than I meant to, but I wasn’t falling-down drunk or anything. I feel fine today, so obviously I couldn’t have been that bad, right? I’m just mad as hell that I woke up at 7:45 a.m. on the one day that I could sleep late with no kid around to wake me up. Stupid internal clock. Since sleep wasn’t going to happen, I threw on my jeans and sneakers and headed down to the breakfast buffet. Which reminds me…
I realize that my gastric bypass surgery makes an all-you-can-eat buffet kind of pointless for me, but if you’re going to charge me $20, I’m going to make up for it by eating the most expensive stuff you have. Shrimp cocktail for breakfast? Why yes, thank you.
Also, it appears that part of the reason that the buffet costs $20 is because it comes with free champagne? At 8 in the freaking morning?? Ok, you win. This town is way too hardcore for me.
Oh, and while I’m writing letters:
I’m really, really sorry about that clove cigarette I smoked last night. What can I say, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Please stop trying to kill me. Truce?
My plan for today is to try to take a nap, then get dressed and set off for the wedding. Pretty easy, no? The Luxor has an exhibition of Titanic artifacts, which sounds fascinating. I thought about going to check it out since it’s just downstairs, but admission is $27, and this town is bleeding me of enough money as it is. I think a nap sounds infinitely better.
Also, I had my camera in my purse last night and completely forgot to take even a single photo. I’ll try to be better about that at the wedding tonight.
I had always heard that Vegas was all about free food and drinks, and free shows, and losing all your money on the gambling. I guess they’ve caught on to all the tourists who show up for the free stuff and don’t gamble, eh?
Oh lord, there is NOTHING free in this town. I think maybe that’s old Vegas, because it sure isn’t true anymore. Seriously, the first bar we went to last night had a cocktail on the menu that cost $21. For one drink!! (We didn’t stay there, we found a cheaper bar where the drinks were only $7-13 each. Yeesh.)
Actually, I think you can get cheap drinks if you’re actually gambling. But if you just want to sit and chat with your friends? No way.
Slot machines = free drinks?
Well, they still did the only time I was in Vegas in about 1994. Well, give the money to the casino tables, or directly to the bar. No difference really.
Hooker, or Tourist? Try hanging out in the hotel lobby near the elevators. When I was there we only discovered this fun game near the end of the trip while we were waiting for someone in our group to bring the car around (too cheap to valet). The women who come in with a body-guard only to have him come down alone a few minutes later? Hmmmm.
Yeah, my poor parents were totally shocked when they went to Vegas. We picked up the tabs because they live in FL, where an expensive beer is $3 and a glass of wine is never more than $4. So a $12 glass of white zin sent my mother into a fit. 🙂 Hope the rest of the trip is good and your lungs recover soon!