Weeks ago, I wrote at length about Hot Wife’s incessant prodding for a Vegas vacation.
She is persistent, that one, although I confess that when it comes to Sin City I don’t put up much of a fight.
So we made some reservations near the end of February, and have since stood back and watched the calendar days drift on by with all the speed of an Atlantic Ocean iceberg, which is to say slowly at best.
Early on, we had other getaways in the works, which drew our attention away from Las Vegas and onto the trips at hand. There was a weekend in Toronto, where we indulged in all things Maple Leaf, followed three weeks later by a whirlwind escape to our favourite resort in the woods, where our indulgences really only totalled two—drinking and hot tubbing.
Unbecoming of parents, I know, to call drinking an activity, but in this case, with not a child in our proximity, what else could we do but get drunk and silly without the burden of 6 a.m. wake-up calls and day-long Barney marathons on TV?
In any case, with those weekends now behind us, nothing of ‘calendarial’ consequence stands between us and our trip to Las Vegas. If we thought the calendar pages were turning slowly then, imagine how we feel now, with nothing else to look forward to but the day we hop our flight to the desert in just over two weeks time.
So I am daydreaming.
A lot.
While not quite Vegas veterans yet, our three previous trips to Sin City have prepared us well for the fourth. And as if that’s not enough, I have become a discussion board troll, reading relentlessly about what to do, where to do it, and otherwise about all else that relates to the town that Bugsy built.
Then I daydream even more.
About alcoholic milk shakes at The Mirage.
About steak dinners for $6.99 at Ellis Island.
About finally trekking to the old Las Vegas, and seeing what the fuss is all about downtown.
I daydream about recreating the winnings that made our last trip memorable, and this impromptu one possible.
I daydream about sitting in the sun at the foot of the faux-Eifel Tower, dipping my toe in the Paris Las Vegas pool while pretending to ignore the scantily-clad beach bodies all around me.
[Note to self, bring sunglasses.]
I daydream about the unplanned blackjack binge that goes on much longer than expected, only because all at the table are having such a good time, the rewards of which materialize before us in the form of stacks and stacks and stacks of chips in shades of red and green and black.
I daydream about having no schedule to keep.
About a Red Bull Vodka to start my day.
About a few Bud Lights to keep it going.
About eating what I want, when I want, where I want, without worrying about calorie counts, or belt notches, or the overall ill effects of what is sure to be over-indulgence to the max.
Because Vegas is all about being over the top.
About going big or going home.
Las Vegas is about extreme excess and extravagance.
At least it will be in two weeks time.
For now though, it’s all about daydreaming.
Where's the 2011 P90X result blog post?
ReplyDeleteM'fraid the 2011 P90X results weren't as good as 2010, so I'm debating whether a post about it is necessary.
ReplyDeleteM'afraid you are quite hard on yourself! Anything that you put so much of yourself into is worth talking about. Especially when you have a HWS checking blog often as she can to get a glimpse into Chubb and family goings on :). One time, you guys bought a minivan. I didn't find out til years later. This is one of my connection lifelines! I love to read what you all are doing. Even if you don't think it's print worthy, I assure you your words are pebbles of gold for a homesick heart.
ReplyDelete