Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Diva Las Vegas

"What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas" -- an adage that's often repeated (if not lived by).  This past weekend, I was actually able to abide by it (despite this, um, public blog post...). Anyway, after months of organizing and outfits planned, my friends and I made the long awaited trip to Las Gaygas where we prepared for the worst... and anticipated the crazy.  I can easily relay tid-bits of the entire weekend in a mere paragraph slump, but that's so unlike me.  Let's break it down:

TIMELINE
Friday, April 3rd: 1:34 p.m. - The Car Ride.
And it wasn't your typical car ride.  It was your Popstar intensified car ride.  With tunes from Lady Gaga, Britney Spears, and Hilary Duff intermixed with lollipops and teen pop magazines, what more can a boy ask for? 

3:23 p.m. - The Gas Station.
When you're with friends, why make a typical gas stop boring?  We transformed the station into a Top Model photo shoot.  "Two girls stand before me, only one can stay...".  Suffice to say, it was a blast.

5:21 p.m. - The Near Death Experience.
Just about two hours later, a vehicle drives beside us, rolls down their window and frantically points to the hood of the car.  Paolo dismisses them politely and we continue driving.  Well, it turns out we'd been driving with the hood still open - flapping around just waiting to fly open.  Incidentally, Paolo knew about it the entire time!

5:25 p.m. - The Pee Break.
So after pulling over and securing the hood, it was time for the obligatory pee break.  The only problem... we were in the middle of nowhere.  Hey, when you gotta go, you gotta go...

6:30 p.m. - The Hotel.
Ironically, we departed from the city Hollywood only to stay in the hotel Planet Hollywood.  While we could have stayed in any ole' actor's room (Darryl Hannah anyone?), we were able to stay in a Michelle Pfeiffer decorated room.  Catwoman over the bathtub?  ... um, meow.

7:25 p.m. - The Strip.
And no, I'm not talking about taking off my clothes! It was time to take the city by storm... literally.  We refueled with pizza adjacent to an indoor rainstorm.  Only in Las Vegas would you be treated to a slice of cheese with a side of rainfall.

11:00 p.m. - The Gay Bar
After a few hours of gambling (and losing), we decided to make our way to the trashy gay bars of Vegas.  And trashy they were... Fortunately, we were treated to a nice cup of Hot Chocolate.  (oh, by the way, Hot Chocolate's the name of the drag queen.)

2:30 a.m. - French Fries and Gambling.
While we know Vegas never sleeps, it's safe to say my friends sure do.  After most of them dropped like flies, Jamison and I tried our luck for a few more hours.  Jamison won!  I did not.

April 4th, 2009: 12:30 p.m. - The Buffet.
When in Vegas, it's almost mandatory to dine at an all-you-can-eat buffet.  And boy did we!  After our fourth plate, it was unanimously decided we'd never go to a buffet again.  Our thighs would eventually thank us for that promise.  (And p.s... the plate to the right was the work of a Mr. Paolo.  He and his sweet tooth makes Willy Wonka look like a diabetic.)

6:25 p.m. - The Divide.
After a much needed rest, it was time for an evening of shows.  A third of the group went to see the divine Bette Midler, another third went to see Peepshow (starring Spice Girl Mel B), and the remaining peeps decided to show everyone that drinking margaritas and vodka at 7 o'clock was actually a good idea.  (Oh yeah, that person was me...)

10:00 p.m. - The Last Night.
A math equation: Eight friends + alcohol + a gay bar x debauchery, a fist, a hand towel, and cement construction tubes = utter mayhem.  Our last night consisted of a few memorable moments (and even more forgotten ones).  However, after what seemed like Nevada's house of shame, I'd have to say the trip was an overall success!

4:20 a.m. - French Fries Part Deux.
Hey, it seemed only appropriate...  

Having been an official college graduate for nearly two years now, I've encountered many different obstacles in my life.  From unemployment to taxes, I've realized growing up isn't as glamorous as my delusional 19-year-old self envisioned.  It's tough.  It's exhausting.  It's nothing like Friends makes it out to be.  However, after actually experiencing the journey, I've realized there are only a few things I'm certain about in Los Angeles: Constant creativity, traffic jams, pollution, and the reliability and grandeur of my friends.

Though, not exactly in that order.