Vegas Baby

Freedom.... freedom let it ring!!! I'm free from the shackles of work, but not from responsibilities. I'm in Las Vegas, Nevada and it's my first time here. I'm not a gambler, other than my weekly lottery tickets. This city is BIG, I'm from Dallas and didn't understand what BIG meant until I arrived in this bustling city. I've been here a day and am in love with the people watching. All walks of life, different classes of society, and everything in between, converge to enjoy bright lights, bling, sparkles, money, love, and loss in the dessert.

I've visited the best buffet ever at Caesars, rode my first gondola at the Venetian, met an awesome bartender named CJ at Caesars, and an even more kick-ass bartender named Jennifer at the new Robert Irvine restaurant at the Tropicana. Jennifer has my heart, we are soul sisters over whiskey and IPA's, good times, and the journey that is life. I have felt the Vegas heat, currently carrying a wash cloth from my hotel room in my purse to wipe my sweat, and walked 8.5 miles so far sipping from the cup of life. Each Uber and Lyft driver have been fabulous and helped solidify the joys of this city.

I'm traveling with a friend of 20 years, and couldn't have asked for a better traveling companion. I'm complacent at the cost of everything from beer to liquor to cigarettes. It is what it is in this city. Although we booked a kickin' deal for our hotel and flight, food et al makes up the difference. I'm contemplating what the hell I'm going to do after my journey. Teresa has suggested I become a pharmaceutical rep, develop a few apps, no I'm not disclosing but they are ingenious ideas, among other options as I view my future options. Tinder continues to offer slices of maledom including meeting, in person, a nice guy who accompanied me as I tried new whiskey drinks, and has offered to tag along while I'm in Vegas. I was also offered to be dominated by another gent who offered to pull my hair from behind, give me a baby sans condom, and another who offered a Vegas fling. Oh Tinder, how I value your influence and confirmation that I can always get laid.

I'm ending my first night at a piano bar, drinking a Jack and Coke for $11.50 in a cup the size of a Turtle shot (if you don't know what that is, message me), listening to dueling pianos whilst my friend gambles, hopefully coming up roses. I am wearing a tank top, shorts, and flip flops; compared to my fellow women rocking everything from see through dresses to formal gowns and literally everything in between. I have posted about my insecurities, my legs are scarred, my self confidence often waivers, but in this city, who the fuck cares.

I'm excited for this to be my first trip in this new chapter. I'm excited to explore and learn about a new city sans job, sans significant other, sans caring. No one stares at my short hair, ahem it's kicking ass on its own being purple, pink, blue, and green, nobody knows I recently survived cancer, minus Jennifer who learned of my journey thus far.

I love bars, I love the anonimity, I love meeting new people, nay friends, discussing our lives, journeys, struggles and triumphs, and discovering, no, confirming, all of our paths converge for a reason. There's a reason I met Jennifer, there's a reason I met JC, he confirmed my need to visit Seattle and per him fall in love with that city. I'm enjoying, no, I'm fucking enjoying this first leg of my new chapter. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, this journey I'm on has stops for a reason, I'm not to the caboose yet.