Mason and I

Mason and I

Sunday, February 15, 2015

Day 412 of San Diego

Hello!

Are you ready to read more about my Vegas adventure?

My previous post I had only talked of the first day. The second day was just as eventful. My mom's longtime friend who lives in Nevada asked if she could celebrate with the folks and I on my birth date. She invited us to the Wynn's buffet for brunch. The food was marvelous! I wish I had two stomachs for the amount of nourishment I wanted to plow into my gullet. Wendy, my mom's friend, and her husband had heard that I yearned to visit the show Pawn Stars' pawn shop. Yet I had learned that the shop receives around 4,000 visitors each day! I doubted I would be able to enter, but Wendy and her husband generously offered to drive us to it.

However, before we left the hotel/casino, I needed to visit the gorgeous Ferrari store. Supposedly, underground, the Wynn sold Ferrari VEHICLES. It'll be the day when I can either purchase a Ferrari or Ferrari merchandise... or sit in a Ferrari... or touch one...

Anyway, it was a five minute drive from the Wynn to Old Town Vegas. I never visited Old Town Vegas. I should once I've saved the money for a future trip.

Believe it or not, we were able to park in the pawn shop's parking lot! The parking lot had approximately twenty-five slots. A couple were empty. We chose a spot closest to the shop. Remarkably, the line wasn't long. We waited a measly ten minutes until entering inside! Wendy was shocked. The shop was cramped. I expected it to be larger. I simply purchased a shirt for myself, a shirt for Mason, and a keychain. We can't afford the actual royalties that were for sale...

Lastly, I requested if Wendy could drive the folks and I to see the Welcome to Las Vegas sign. I don't know if I've ever encountered it. I don't know if the folks and I have driven to Vegas. Gladly, Wendy obliged. 

Finally, Wendy dropped us off at our hotel. We said Goodbye to her and her husband. My mom questioned what we should do to waste time. I suggested shopping. We did just that.

Around 3:00, the folks and I had to change attire. I decided to dress up for the evening performance we bought tickets to.

Which performance am I talking about?

Well, the fabulous Cirque du Soleil: Michael Jackson - One! I'm disappointed to state that I couldn't snap photos of the act. It wasn't allowed.

We had lovely seats; close to the stage and in the middle! As we idled, four people - two girls and two boys - (about my age) started fussing while they scooted passed guests behind us. Suddenly, I heard them whisper that their isle was further forward. Impatient, they wondered if they could cross over people's chairs to get to their designated isle. The girls politely asked if they could use our seats to climb over. But one boy already began stepping on my seat without permission! My dad became angered. I thought he would punch the guy. The two girls bickered at the brave young man, telling him to move around the isles.

Unexpectedly, the second boy hopped over the chairs! His balance was superb! The girls yelled at him. One girl shouted, "Tell these people you're sorry!" The boy shrugged, ignoring her request. The other three walked around the isles. My dad was still steaming from the previous experience.

I then realized... spotlights. I looked above and saw spotlights shinning at the group of misfits. I looked at Mom with wide eyes. I speculated, "Are they actors?" In a matter of minutes, the crew was chased away by a group wearing trench coats and holding cameras.

Again, believe it or not, our questions were answered: they were actors! They were the main actors for the show! I had to laugh at the image of my father punching one of the Cirque du Soleil actors if he hadn't removed his foot from my seat!

I cannot express how beautiful the performance was. I can't explain! You have to see it for yourself to understand my speechlessness.

After the show, we rushed to our hotel. I needed to undress and dress in even more fancy attire. The reason was to impress Blake. The night prior, he said he may have a drink with me on my birthday. When we arrived to The Cosmopolitan, The Modern Jukebox Band spectacle already begun. I had to wait until break to chat with him. Yet... in the meantime... I worried of whether or not he would remember us... I had a hunch he would forget to order me a drink (sadly, that was true)... But once he saw me, he smiled. I asked, "Do you remember me?" His eyebrows twitched and he emphasized, "Of course! Happy birthday! You look nice." I said Thank You and felt my cheeks burn from blush.

The event ended. The folks and I managed to have a word with Blake. He called us his "Seahawks family" which charmed us. Another conversation brewed. My dad invited him to dinner if he was in our area. We snapped the last few photos together...

I shooed my parents away as I stood near Blake. My heart was pounding. I didn't know if what I was about to do was legal. I pulled a piece of paper and a pen from my purse. I babbled about how my family is sincerely inviting him to our house, to dinner, etc. I scribbled my phone number on the piece of paper before handing it out to him. He stared at it, complimented my intrinsic number, when saying, "Well, add your names to it!" I furiously did so.

I gave Blake the piece of paper. I told him, "I'm not hitting on you, man." He hugged me and replied, "I appreciate the love." I waved to him as I joined my parents.

What a clueless idiot I am.

I haven't received a text or call from him since... 

The folks and I were drained of our energy. I wrote a quick essay for my Queer Studies teacher, sent it via email, until we fell asleep, ready for the upcoming day.

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End of Part Two.












Funniest name ever?










Saturday, February 14, 2015

Day 411 of San Diego

Rebirth

Hey...

I haven't written for a while, huh?

I know.

Life had sent me adrift.

But I didn't die from a horrid plane crash! I'm guessing a few of my readers (the very few...) might have thought so. Well, I'm alive... And I've been busy.

I would love to share my experiences at Las Vegas. I also have PICTURES! YEAH!

Vegas, Baby:

I'll begin with the commercial jet we flew on...

IT WAS A RUSSEL WILSON JET!

The announcer told us. Many people cheered. Whoever wore a Seahawks jersey could board the plane before others. Sadly, I didn't wear a jersey, yet my folks did. The only reason why I didn't wear a jersey to Vegas was because I feared people (drunks, potheads, etc.) would try to start drama.

However, it was completely opposite.

After landing, people from the airport to our hotel (The Venetian) gave us high-fives! They told us they hoped the Seahawks would beat the cheating Patriots.

Once settling in our suite, the folks and I decided to walk The Strip. It was a gorgeous late afternoon. A wonderful sixty degrees. We walked South. Already, the men and women who hold the pornographic cards stood outside, waiting for customers.

Passing Caesars Palace, I stopped at a nearby, astoundingly beautiful fountain. I had an itch to wish. I pulled a penny from my purse, wished a wish I've wished upon before, and then tossed the penny into the fountain. I watched it sink. I smirked.

The first place we visited was the Bellagio's water fountain. We waited for approximately ten minutes until the show started. The speakers blared a Beatles song as the water danced to the rhythm. When the show ended, the folks and I continued strolling.

We noticed street performers, drunks, people who pester you to sell their items, people who wear costumes for tourists to snap photos with them, sports cars, vans which drive by advertising places, shows, or hookers who'll foreplay with you wherever you are residing, and plenty of other attractions you can always see at Vegas. It's quite endless!

The sun set. The lights twinkled on. We watched street performers at Planet Hollywood and I waved at celebrity lookalikes. I snapped a picture of a Lamborghini until needing to turn away before I stole it.

Since we walked for miles, the folks and I needed dinner. We ate at Smith & Wollensky. I never heard of the restaurant. I didn't expect the food to be scrumptious... Until I saw the menu. I ordered a delicious plate of lobster tail with a filet mignon.

I was drooling each bite I tasted...

GOOD LORD, I knew what Heaven would be serving after eating such delicacies!

Our waiter was gracious. I adored him. He was a soft-spoken man. I forgot his name... I'm sad I did... Once we told him it was my 21st birthday in six hours, he generously asked if we would like a family photo taken of us using my cell phone. Of course, we agreed!

After finishing our dinner, we were stuffed to the brim. But... I had to ask for the dessert menu. I ordered a piece of chocolate cake.

The piece wasn't a small piece...

I wouldn't have been able to carry it on the palm of my hand!

Yet it was very, very yummy. I blew out the single candle atop the cake, wishing the exact wish I had wished for when I threw the penny into Caesars Palace's fountain. The folks helped me eat half of the piece of chocolate cake. If our meal wasn't as filling, I'm positive we would have devoured the chocolate dessert entirely!

Waddling out of the restaurant, saying thanks for the lovely food, the folks and I walked the calories off.

Our walking allured further high-fives and shouting, "SEAHAWKS!" We entered the Hard Rock Cafe store to buy myself a sweatshirt. We entered the Coca Cola store to buy myself a Coca Cola beanie. Seeing the end of the Strip, we crossed a bridge. We began walking back to our hotel when my mom suggested we visit The Cosmopolitan. I hesitated... but entered.

The hotel and casino were fabulous! We even saw Liberace's bedazzled car: a Duesenberg Roadster. While lollygagging about the casino, a younger gentleman wearing a suit hustled towards us and said, "Go Hawks," giving my dad a high-five. My dad said, "Go Hawks!" to the man as he walked passed. Suddenly, my mom stopped, turned, and stated, "I think that was Blake Lewis!" I shook my head, believing my mom was delusional. My dad and I informed her that the man couldn't have possibly been Blake Lewis. How could we be so lucky, am I right? But my mom wouldn't quit rambling. I researched a picture of Blake Lewis to prove to my hysterical mother that she was mistaken.

Nonetheless, I had to pause myself. I stared at the pictures of Blake Lewis and remembered the quick glimpse of the man who high-five'd my dad. I showed my mom the pictures. She nodded. I nodded. My dad didn't know what to say. My mom and I bolted to the entrance of The Cosmopolitan. We had to find either a theater or a performance area. We asked a lady behind a narrow desk if she saw Blake Lewis. The lady agreed and pointed to a theater around the staircase near her.

Sure as a heart attack, Blake Lewis and fellow dancers/singers stood by a petite theater, chatting with one another. Thankfully, we didn't bum-rush him. We collectively greeted ourselves to him. Of course, he remembered us. We snapped a few photos with him. I told him my 21st birthday was tomorrow. He wished me an early Happy Birthday. The show he hosted was delightfully entertaining. A group called The Modern Jukebox played modern songs to a late-20's early-30's theme. Each singer had a beautiful voice. When a break was in session, we said Goodbye to Blake by giving him hugs and telling him we would see him the next day.

What a FANTASTIC human being.

My wish I had wished came true. :)

I was ECSTATIC throughout the night. But the end wasn't nigh.

Midnight struck. I became a 21 year old! The folks and I celebrated my fresh birthday at a local bar within The Venetian called The Bourbon Room. It was a Rock of Ages 70's-80's themed bar. People were dancing on the dance floor, the DJ dressed like the stereotypical 80's rocker, and my waitress was excited to present my first LEGAL alcoholic beverage to me: a Rum Runner.

I... I had to trade with my mom. Hers was watered down a bit. Mine sent shivers across my body from the strength of the rum. My dad drank an Amaretto on the rocks. I favored his, yet continued drinking the watered down Rum Runner.

The night partied on. Every song that played, I sung to. Strangers met us and talked positively about the Seahawks. Another waitress congratulated me for turning 21. A man jumped on the couches, flailing his arms. The waitresses danced on stage. The DJ called out my mom to dance. My parents danced for one song. We finished our drinks. We were exhausted. We immediately fell asleep once entering our hotel room.

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End of Part One.