Oh, the Humanity

Since this blog is at risk for becoming a completely unreadable puddle of happiness, I'm staging an intervention. Please allow me to complain about the cold weather, whine about the last-minute tasks that were added to my to-do list this morning, and moan about the week-long migraine I haven't been able to shake.

P.S. Still totally happy, though. How obnoxious!

Vegas: Edited to Add

After talking about podcasts and browsers outside the swanky hotel bar, I noticed some fabric paneling in the lobby and said, "They need to iron their walls." I said this out loud and earnestly and while frowning, yet he did not roll his eyes or walk away. He did stare at me in silence for a long time but then solemnly nodded.

"Yes, they really do."

Broke, Blind, or Bedlam

Life has been more than a little surreal lately. I've joked before that I sometimes feel like I'm part of a sitcom, and I sincerely don't mean that as an excuse for being melodramatic or eccentric. Most nights, I find myself sitting on my bed, watching Netflix on my iPad, and dribbling pizza crumbs down the front of my shirt. Occasionally, I pause the show long enough to favorite some tweets, grump or enthuse about things with Tyler, and freshen up my English breakfast tea. It's completely mundane, and I love it.

So how, then, did I end up in Las Vegas (oh my gosh!) with my boyfriend (what even!) one week ago Friday? I thought it would feel more like reality once the plane landed, but the airport itself is part of some brilliant plot against normalcy—a constant theme throughout the city. I thought I would feel grounded when we got to our hotel, but even the elevator was too cool for me. Then we spent two days indulging in amazing food and great shopping and stellar people-watching and a fabulous show, and it is possible that my head will never stop spinning.

Before I left, I was given four rules: don't get married, don't go broke gambling, don't pull an Ocean's Eleven heist, don't get dead. I cannot say that I followed any or all of them, but I can share some favorite highlights with you instead:

  • Being greeted at the airport with a Las Vegas snow globe and a kiss
  • Kicking off the weekend with one of the top five chocolate shakes I've ever had
  • Every surface of every venue being made out of or decorated with sparkles and magic
  • So many neon shoes and horrible sandals (men of Vegas, your feet are gross)
  • Sitting outside a swanky hotel bar and discussing browsers and podcasts while waiting for a table
  • Being too busy smiling to take photos or even notice that my phone was dying
  • Seeing the fountain show at the Bellagio a thousand times (even though I never found Brad Pitt or George Clooney or Matt Damon)
  • The hotel having a view of the Strip and automated shades on the windows, which is somehow both glamorous and bad-ass (and just a fun addition to any evening or morning routine)
  • Walking hand-in-hand from one breathtakingly beautiful place to another
  • Receiving a kiss on every escalator (and there are a lot of them)
  • The man who tried to sell me a selfie stick
  • Getting gussied up and basking in a never-ending string of compliments (I really should shower more often)
  • "Holding hands through the entire Kà show, applause be damned" (stolen from his recap)
  • Being so overwhelmed that I couldn't even read a menu much less make a decision
  • Dating someone who is super patient and also good at making decisions
  • Eating steak and chocolate cake that were so good, I've had dreams about them since
  • A fake proposal that resulted in me stealing his wearable for a day
  • Joining the squinty-eyed "what is daylight?" crowd for brunch and bonding in a spirit of disorientation
  • Spending every second of the trip home texting one another about our respective flights
  • Waking up the next day and discovering it wasn't all a wild and crazy dream