I'm the girl who tries to be fashionably late to the party, and then kind of forgets about the party, gets wrapped up in an intense project like cleaning out the fridge, remembers the party with a gasp, and dashes off, cleaning gloves flung off on the way out the door.
In mid-December, I joined three high school buddies on a fabulous trip to Vegas, bound to see the Spice Girls. They posted about the trip right afterwards. Whatever, it's my blog, and I'll be late if I want to. Ben, Jamie, and Mat are some of my oldest friends.
I've known Mat since second grade. We are the people who will inevitably walk away from the party with a black eye. Actually, that happened once. Mat and I were swing dancing at Jamie's New Year's party in 2000. We were endangering furniture and people in our mad whirl of east coast glory. Somehow, Mat's elbow ended up in my eye, which quickly sported an angry bruise. Ben, being the historian of the group, later flexed his yearbook editor muscles to ensure that both before and after pictures of me were included. In the first one, Mat and I are dancing. Here's a similar picture from the Vegas trip. We danced in parking garages. The whole trip was that fun. Note that I'm dancing on his feet.
I'm so impressed that all of my oldest friends are so professional now! Jamie's in her third year at medical school, Ben is a lawyer, and Mat is working at a clinics in San Fransisco and thinking of going to med school. Jeez, I never thought I'd be the slacker in the group! Here's a picture of all four of us at an awesomely authentic Mexican joint.
The concert was amazing. I've never seen so many gay people, both in terms of sexual preference and giddiness. I loved that everyone was dancing in the aisles, totally uninhibited. The security guards kept shooing us back to our seats, probably worried about fire escape. We'd drift back in a nonchalant disco sort of way. And everyone was dressed up. Apparently you've got to have at least four good friends to really attend a Spice Girl concert in style. Then you can each dress up as one of them. I want to be Scary Spice when I grow up. She can dance. My favorite quintets were the cross dressers. They were entirely fabulous.
After, we went to the Tropicana, the least Vegas-y and most Reno-y casino on the strip. You can tell because the decorations are from the seventies, there's a layer of grime on everything, no one's nattily dressed, there are cowboys, and the drinks are only $4. I bought two drinks for the boys at the Mandalay Bay, and the total came to $21. Here's a scary picture of me trying to be sexy at the Tropicana. I hope I'm not that way in real life-- I hope I'm better in motion. I do like the busty-ness, though.
The next day, Jamie and Ben flew home and Mat and I had a chill day shopping at Goodwill. I found a slinky purple ballroom dress with sequins. In other words, life was good. And Vegas is still perfect for a weekend away-- anything longer than that, and you feel your soul melting away.