HDH and I had a great time in Vegas, stayed at this swanky joint, hence the photo above.

Although, I must say, after about two nights, I'm done with Vegas. I don't gamble, so after you've seen the shows you wanted to see and shopped where you've wanted to shop, you are out of options.

Except you can lay out by the pool. Which I did, albeit unwillingly. I've never ever liked laying out by the pool. The weather cooperated with us one day while there, so we (read: my husband) took advantage of it, grabbed our swimsuits and headed down. And instead of enjoying the sun and the drinks, we were bombarded with cigar smoke from this old geezer next to us.

On the flight out, I sat next to a guy who looked like he very well fell out of a 8o's cover band. After talking to him a bit, turns out, he was in one. The name of the band? Stabbing Cats. Awesome. He said to me, "I bet I don't have to tell you what that name means!!". We had a great discussion about big hair bands and metal. He firmly believes the downfall of rock was Nirvana and hates that group with a passion. He also had some pretty cool stories about Vince Neil.

While in Vegas, we saw two shows: Mystere and Monty Python's Spamalot (with John O'Hurley of Seinfeld/Dancing With the Stars fame) - and both of these I'd highly recommend. I'd also high recommend NOT drinking a big glass of wine before Mystere. Otherwise, you'll have to get up and pee half-way through the show (here's to tiny bladders!).

HDHusband made off like a bandit with some new clothes. While he shopped, I watched a throng of Japanese tourists bumping into each other, taking pictures of ... well, I'm not sure what. But one took out the camera to take a picture of whatever-it-was, and the rest followed. It was amazing, really.

I also saw a black lady who must have weighed about 400 lbs in skin tight WHITE capri pants. You could see ass dimples and probably a few other things if you looked any closer. It was the most remarkable thing I think I saw on the entire trip. Part of me thought, "Jesus, you'd think someone would tell her 'That just isn't flattering on you'" - and the other part thought, "Well, hell, why not."

On the last evening, we had dinner at the Bellagio, rubbed elbows with the World Series of Poker guys, and some dude pinched my ass at the bar. I believe the line that followed was, "So, is turnabout fair play?". His Plastic Wife didn't like that idea much.

While at dinner, we had this dessert - three scoops of gelato in this fancy ice sculpture:

We're leaving tomorrow for a quick trip to the City of Lost Wages. Neither of us are gamblers, so we're going to hit some great shops and see some shows. And this time, I am wearing better shoes as not to wish for amputation somewhere on The Strip like the last time I was there.

The first time I was in Vegas, my mom took me for my 21st birthday. This is somewhat symbolic as the woman was pretty religious, and although had evening cocktails at times, she was on my ass for years about not drinking, not smoking, not looking at things I shouldn't be looking at, and certainly, gambling your hard earned money away in Sin City. Okay, well, maybe not the latter, but still ...

My mother insisted Las Vegas was something I needed to experience. Instead of sending the birthday girl and her best friend into Sin City alone, she herself, invited my very hip grandmother (truly, no sarcasm there - she's awesome!), my best friend at the time and her mom. My best friend was recently married, and her husband had a shit fit knowing we were going to Las Vegas. Never mind that we couldn't have been with a more docile crowd had we got on a tour bus full of Baptist Missionaries. I mean, come on.

The five of us boarded a plane, Mom ordered me a really awful glass of wine as my 'first drink' (riiiiiiiiiiight ... hello, Sloegin and Dr. Pepper, anyone? Tasted like asshole, if I knew what asshole tasted like, that is) ... and we landed in Vegas a short time later.

I remember a few things about this trip:

1. Being 21 and wishing to God All Mighty that my mother wasn't on this trip, never mind she was paying for the thing. She hovered over me, insisting I drink, and there is never a more awkward moment that having a parent for 20 years telling you that drinking is bad, and suddenly, standing next to you insisting you have everything on the menu. I didn't drink but a few things on the trip. It sucked.

2. I lost all my money gambling. My girlfriend won everything.

3. My grandmother sat down on a bench one evening, and it happened to be right under the neon sign that said, "Girls of Glitter Gulch" and an arrow pointing straight to her. I have that picture somewhere. Classic, totally. Sadly, I can't find that picture -- so here's one of me and my girlfriend, posing for the camera:

4. My mother also insisted that we know what a late-night female revue was like. So, again, I sat in the crowd, looking at naked women with the business all out there with my mother (remember, folks, this is the same woman who wouldn't let me watch Doogie Howser because it was the 'decline of children's television'). Hard to switch gears, you know.