The guy next to me on the flight to Las Vegas ordered a gin and tonic—at 8am. And proceeded to tell me all about the drinking and gambling planned for the weekend.
"Do you gamble?" he asked. Not exactly.
"Do you plan to be totally wasted the whole time?" Nope.
"Then why are you going to Vegas?"
For our 21st birthdays, my brother and I met in Vegas. Woot. This year? The draw was cirque (and the bdays). I'm fumbling my way through trapeze training, and Jason's wife, Elizabeth, is a for-real aerial performer. Circus is a part of all our lives. And the 'O' Cirque du Soleil show—which involves aerial and diving and I've been itching to see—lives in Vegas.
Ah. Mazing. It was worth every cent of the ticket just to watch the curtain open. Absolutely loved it. We spent the rest of our time touring art museums, going on the roller coaster and, with margaritas in hand, taking in the views from the new 'High Roller' London Eye-type thing. Even managed to grab a bus to the nearby county wetlands (and were greeted by a low-flying marsh hawk).
Thanks for the love, Vegas. And happy birthday, J—to one of my favorite people on the planet.