I’m taking Mini Twin and L to the airport. It feels like they’ve been here an eternity (seriously San Diego was only 2 weeks ago?) but we only got to do like 24% of what I wanted to. Guess they’ll just have to come back.
While they’re jet-setting back to wonderful Ohio and I try to work some damage control on the apartment and my waist line, here’s a guest post from my party-hardy, lovely little sister on being the baby on a Vegas vacay…
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MT here with some insider information on how I survived "sin city" as a newborn legal drinking citizen. (21 years, 3 months, 14 days old to be exact)
I’m not sure how to say this without partronizing myself, but I like to
let loose party. Sometimes a little a lot too much. I’m not going to go into details for the sake of our entire family reading this, but that’s how it is. When I found out Vegas will be the spot of the big bachelorette party for Sarah Soon-to-be, I naturally became very excited.
I was not expecting to feel how I felt the night before the big departure – a little nervous and worried for my well-being. First of all, I’ve never been to Vegas. Second of all, I’ve heard of many accounts of people going out of control, into jail, and just completely loosing their minds (and these people are years older than me). They say, "some people can’t handle Vegas" and I was terrified (and almost certain) I would be one of those people.
So we were driving down the dusty old desert and we started seeing the Vegas signs. Everyone was getting pretty pumped up and I got a little more nervous. We got a little closer and I got a small lump in my throat. We saw Vegas from the highway and I almost peed myself. We finally made it to the wonderful Clarion and I lost all feeling. We were here and anything could happen. I was picturing myself running around the streets screaming "Vegas!! Vegaaasssss!!" and waking up next to a dumpster because I lost all my friends.
Well good news is that didn’t happen. That would’ve been very embarrassing and I would have smelled of dead fish/diapers/old prunes and whatever else could have been in that dumpster.
Instead I picked up the urge to punch any Cleveland haters, shmoozed to get as much free booze as possible, got a job offer, managed to keep my bra on while dancing at coyote ugly, gave Vegas a "full moon" from the hotel room window, meet a handful of Beyonce’s dancers twice (even though I don’t remember the second time), caught some nice pics of SDFriend passed out in the cab, recieved an 8 of diamonds from a man to "remember him" by, and making a 1.5 hour trek across Vegas to meet a bachelor party with bottle service at Tryst that Sarah & L were paranoid was roofied.
While I did have a blast and came up with many mischevious plans, not many of them went into play. Mostly because 1. I knew S would stop me anyways if it was too messed up (she’s responsible and OLD) 2. there will always be more trips to Vegas and 3. that’s what college is for.
I also got to come home with most of my dignity and some cash in my pocket – cool huh?
Oh, did I mention my favorite thing about Vegas? Open containers. There’s an indescribable feeling that comes through you when you’re surrounded by kids in M&M World standing by the giant m&m candy dispensers and it is legally okay to crack open a Mich Ultra and pour it into your Hooter’s tall boy.
So my advice?
- Carry a big purse (or a big cup) and pack them with as many drinks as possible before leaving the room.
- Shamelessly flirt with anybody who says “bottle service” or “we’re getting a table”.
- Hooters Fried Pickles prevent hangovers. (that might be a lie, but they’re delicious)
- Flip flops are always acceptable – carrying your cute heels and walking barefoot on sticky, glass-stricken floors is dumb.
- You’re in Vegas where anything goes. Don’t be lame.