The Vegas Trip, Pt. 4: Rocking The Vote

(Side note: I notice that many of my pics from past installments of this series is no longer showing up. I recently had an issue with the photo hosting site I uploaded my pics to (they blocked my account for no good reason and I still haven’t heard back from them), so I moved all my pics to a new site and y’all should see them now!) 

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I didn’t expect my Vegas trip to get political. I had already voted prior to my trip, and while I knew I couldn’t escape it  given that my trip occurred the week before Election Day, I thought my trip would involve politics, aside from flipping off all those unsightly Trump ads. I even had my Halloween plans set: go people-watching around the Strip and Fremont Street while dressed as Regina George from Mean Girls

Then I found out that thee VP herself Kamala Harris was going to appear at a rally in North Las Vegas. On Halloween. My janky Regina George can wait another year, for I wasn’t going to pass up on a historic opportunity! 

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The Vegas Trip, Pt. 3: The 40th

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I turned 10, 18, and 20 at home in the city I was born in. I celebrated my 21st at some waterfront restaurant in SF with my first-ever drink, my 25th in Santa Cruz, and my 30th in LA, trolling Dodger fans after another SF Giants World Series victory the day before. I had plans for my 40th since 2022, but none of them didn’t involve Vegas. I thought I’d go to Hawaii, or Europe on one of those seven-day European tour specials I’d see on Travelzoo. Some plans don’t come to fruition due to life’s curveballs hitting my head, however. (I felt like I’ve taken a lot of those curveballs to my head this year.) And then there are the rare times in life when I hit a grand slam. Finding a great place in Vegas at an amazing weekly rate on my exact travel dates was one of them. 

I usually stay home on my born days, simply to avoid my special day being potentially ruined by assholes being assholes. But I also have this thing where I need to get a massage wherever I travel. In-home massage is costly as hell, so I found a good deal via Groupon at a massage clinic in Summerlin. The soonest opening they had on their schedule was, yep, on my birthday, so I ended up going out. The drive wasn’t bad, I didn’t encounter any assholes, and the massage was amazing. 

I stayed home the rest of the time, though I took some time to explore the rest of the hotel. 

My suite is up there. No, UP there!

It looks like Vegas paradise, but trust me, it was coooooold that day. 

I had the option to go to LA again for my 40th, but there was that pesky blue baseball team and its fans. Naturally, there just had to be a World Series game on my born day, and a closeout game, too. Ten years ago, I sported my Giants hat while roaming the streets of LA, proud to be repping the winners. (Not once did I get jumped, if you can believe that.) I guess the evil gods of that blue baseball team must’ve remembered that because ten years later, guess who would win the World Series, and on my 40th, too? (And thus begins my revenge story!) 

I eased my nerves in my private, jacuzzi-style bathtub, and it was a huge bathtub. With actual jacuzzi jets! The lights were mine, by the way. 

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The Vegas Trip, Pt. 2: The Adventure

The behemoth sight of The Sphere, taken from my ride on The High Roller. 

After my last visit to Vegas back in 2018, I thought the city had everything and the kitchen sink. Sprawling buffets, 24-hour weed dispensaries, replicas of the Eiffel Tower and Brooklyn Bridge, fountain shows at the Bellagio, light shows at Fremont Street, and “Elvis” posing with families on the Strip sidewalks while trucks advertising near-nude escorts drive past. I guess I underestimated Vegas and its penchant for excess for they added more things since my last visit, namely The High Roller and The Sphere. Sooooo many more things to see, and yet…

…with a view like this from my room, it was kind of tough getting out. (That’s how much of a slut I am for pretty views from my home.)

By the way, after seeing more Trump ads on those digital billboards and on every other street corner, I think the next time I visit Vegas, it will be on a non-Presidental election year. It’s bad enough the convicted felon’s hotel is there, although it was also easy to miss since other buildings caught my eye. (In fairness, there were more Kamala ads around, including one on that big-ass Sphere.) 

This was taken from observation deck at The Strat (more on this later), and I found out earlier that day that her ads would be featured on that Sphere. So glorious! 🥹

Not so glorious but amusing is seeing a gold-plated eyesore pull up to the Dollar Tree, of all places. Only in Vegas. I’d say people who voluntarily buy those abominations on wheels (after all the batshit crazy things its creator has said and done) have Dollar Tree morals, but that would be insulting to Dollar Tree.

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The Vegas Trip, Pt. 1: The Arrival

A month ago, I was in Las Vegas, a few days fresh into my forties. Life seemed to be good; I was having fun and feeling some actual hope for the future. I wish I could say the same thing today, but that’s a rant for another day. 

I didn’t plan nor expect to enter my forties in Vegas. With the budget I had at the time, I thought I’d take another LA trip (and risk my well-being being potentially rattled due to that blue team being in the World Series) or just celebrate my birthday close to home (I thought about staying at an upscale hotel in SF for a couple nights). Four days before my birthday, with still no place to go, I checked out Airbnb on a whim and saw an offering I couldn’t refuse: a high-rise suite at Palms Place with strip-facing views, going for under $700 for a week’s stay during my exact travel dates. The lone catch was that the reservation was “non-refundable” and, to save all my coins, I’d have to drive what would end up being over 1200 miles for a round trip. And I had only two days to prepare for my trip. They were small prices to pay to enjoy myself, however.

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