We made it to Vegas around 7pm. The strip was glowing. We checked in to our very glamorous Motel 6 (which was pet friendly) and got dressed for the evenings festivities. Captain was a champ and Holden hid under the bed. We decided to head to Fremont St. since we were informed that this was where we would find “Old Vegas.” Upon our arrival, we walked into the light show that happens at the top of the hour. Everyone was standing around starring at the ceiling while smoking and drinking from those weird tubes that look like miniature water towers…liquor towers I suppose. Babette and I shuffled down a few yards to pop into the Starbucks which was more cost effective and more desirable than the liquor towers. While inside the Starbucks, which adjoined a casino–because everything adjoined a casino–I noted that there were people smoking inside. Also of note, there were lots of children running around. You know, small kids, like 5-8 years old. Babette and I continued to wander down the street, past the weird non-official performers, with no real desire to enter any of these “old casinos.” All of a sudden two adult men began assaulting one another. There was quite the crowd of on-lookers, but the men began to run and dash about while attempting to maul each other so I shuffled Babette away. It’s generally my concern in those situations that a firearm might present itself, which may lead to stray bullets. Needless to say, whether my fear is rational or not, there really isn’t any good reason to stand around watching drunk men assault each other. Did I mention there were small children around? So apparently a whole slew of parents were trying to decide between Disneyland and Vegas for their family trip and they went for Vegas. Like a lot. It was at this moment when I checked my Life360 app. My dad had requested that I use this app to be able to check in and track my trip and safety along the journey, but the app has several features that both should and shouldn’t be used. In the midst of this sinfully aggressive and child-filled street, I checked the app which showed the surrounding registered sex offenders, crime alerts, and fires in the area. Useful yes, but once you see how many registered sex offenders with FULL PROFILES AND PICTURES there are, you began to worry that everyone around you is a chi-mo. This isn’t even funny. It was really not funny because of all of the parents who decided to bring their young children to Vegas as a vacation, the parents who had liquor towers in one hand and a child in the other. Sure, I may be a little conservative about this whole Vegas ordeal, but I’m okay with that. Perhaps I’m just past the point in my life where it seems appealing to spend $50 on a liquor tower, only to stumble around between the sex offenders and pre-traumatized children…but that’s just me.
So we cabbed our way to Caesar’s Palace for dinner, never to speak of Fremont St. again (not really). Dinner was fabulous. We made our way to the 1 cent slot machines and in total gambled $20. The earnings documented below were quickly lost. I figured that was a pretty good limit, and that allowed for enough time to have one complementary martini. We were high class slot jockeys. I couldn’t help but continue to quote one of the most notable Simpsons episodes ever, $pringfield (Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Legalized Gambling) from Season 5.
It’s been a whirlwind romance. It’s been a whirlwind several years. I won’t re-cap in great detail—you can read back through the posts if you’re very curious—but I will say that the last few years (and more recent months) have been filled with self-reflection, radical acceptance, and courage.
As I have been preparing to drive halfway across the country with two cats and my best friend—for a boy I’ve fallen head over heels in love with—I’ve done a lot of reflecting on how I have come to be in this position. I fully intend to document the adventure that will begin this Saturday November 16th as Babette and I head south, but for now I’d like to highlight just a few of the life lessons that I have learned within the last 5 years.
(In no particular order of importance)
There is no good reason to have a credit card. I’m sorry but there isn’t. There is REALLY no reason to EVER have a joint credit card. Save your money. Pay cash. If you can’t, you probably shouldn’t buy it.
According to society, it is a risk factor for a single woman to own more than one cat. It could be argued that there is a risk in owning any cats as a single woman, but clearly there is some degree of exponential (read convex) growth in terms of the number of cats owned and likelihood of entering cat ladydom.
There are clear blue jobs and clear pink jobs. Sometimes there can be purple jobs, but only if partners are equally skilled, competent, and have agreed that both working at the same purple job will complete it faster. When women and men start mixing up jobs, things get confusing and people get their egos bruised. Best to clarify from the start which jobs are what color.
The risks associated with alcohol consumption more frequently outweigh the benefits. Also, alcohol should never be included on a person’s “self-care plan.”
Having a “5-year plan” is silly. There is no way to predict what turn of events will or will not take place. Please see previous post Series of Unfortunate Events. Best bet is to take all steps possible to be prepared for what might happen i.e. used gained wisdom from self-reflection, radical acceptance, and courage to be content with life and find purpose in daily living. Happiness will be the side-effect. The only plan one should make is to be debt free.
Moving frequently encourages minimal possessions. Minimal possessions decreases risks of entering a life of hoarding….Does frequent moving and minimal possessions therefore increase the risks of becoming a nomad? Is that bad? That seems like a bell curve of some sorts…
You can’t mail liquor boxes (unless fully wrapped covering all labeling) despite their amazing qualities as a sturdy shipping box.
The cheapest way to move to another state is via the United States Postal Service and Wal-Mart. Boxes are about 69 cents each at Wal-Mart and if it doesn’t rattle, it ships media rate…. Just be sure to get delivery confirmation. Those pods, trucks, and everything else costs several thousands of dollars.
It is important to step out of your comfort zone from time to time. Go on random dates, go on blind dates even, interview for jobs so that you can practice presenting yourself in a professional manner, say yes to the invitation to go out even though you would rather just veg at home.
Be hopeful. Be thankful. Be open. Be wise. Be silly.
Was it really 6 years ago that Babette and I were in Galway, Ireland for St. Patrick’s Day?
It was absurdly frigid that day. I recall wearing two pairs of wool socks, jeans, two wool sweaters (one purchased from some old lady in Dublin and one I had purchased in the states from the Goodwill Bins–a Goodwill store that sells clothes and items by the pound,which is something that most certainly should be discussed or at least highlighted–but I digress), an overpriced North Face jacket, a pashmina, and still I remember being chilled to the bone. Babs and I had taken a terrible bus from Dublin the night before. Upon awaking in this small town, first order of business of course, coffee.
Neither of us wanted to admit that it was too cold to be walking around. Anyone who knows the relationship between Babette and myself will attest that NEITHER of us was going to admit anything. Alas, we spent the majority of the morning drinking espresso and walking through the town, watching the real Irish prepare for the festivities. A parade, singing, dancing, and of course drinking lots and lots of Guinness. By the time that it was socially acceptable to begin partaking in said libations, it was about 2pm. Despite the -20 weather, there were scads of people out and about, most wearing wool of some sort. Through the afternoon and into the night, people floated from bar to bar, singing (to be read as shouting) traditional drinking songs which supported more drinking, and giving kisses because everyone is Irish on March 17th.
It was amazing. I wouldn’t have wanted to be there with anyone else. Babette, it’s time to plan our next adventure across seas.