It's Vegas, Betches!!!

So this weekend I went to Vegas. I go to school in Los Angeles and since I'm graduating in a matter of months (weeks sounds too intense here) I thought it was high time that I see what all the hype was about. My experience was unique because it was for a friend's birthday and her dad got us two suites at the Cosmopolitan, so I was definitely a little spoiled. But here's the good, the bad, and the ugly:

The Good:
Damn. There be some good food. It's expensive and disorientingly large in quantity, but hands down, the best part of my weekend (besides indulgent day drinking) was the food. I had some of the best chicken pot pie that I've ever had the pleasure of consuming, accompanied by a Mambo Italiano, which is a delightfully spiced Bloody Mary. Boom. I had $5 Margs on national margarita day. I indulged in the $50 buffet (line jump and bottomless mimosas included) which gave me a southern comfort course, a breakfast plate, an asian italian fusion (or so I have dubbed the combined plating of garlic bread and cucumber-avacado sushi rolls), and desert tasting. Juicy Fried Chicken. Creamy Mashed Potatoes. Perfectly Flavored Green Beans. Succulent Stuffed french toast. Fresh fruit. Rich Gelatto. Mini pockets of perfect Tiramisu. Mini Pecan Pies. Later on we got street tacos and finished the weekend with some delectable sandwiches. Leave it at this: Gluttony is my favorite of all the sins of sin city.
I should also give a shout out to dancing. Which was incredibly fun, especially at Surrender.

The Bad:
The best advice I could give you about going to Vegas is keeping the group small. I think, depending on your level of closeness, 3 or 4 is perfect. You'll all fit in one room. You can easily break into pairs. You can be really honest about what you want, do that thing, and easily stay in communication with all members of your party. I was there with 8, which is approximately double my recommendation. Keep it small. Keep it easy. Keep it fun. I whole heartedly believe in the "go big or go home" philosophy, but not when it comes to Vegas group size. May you avoid the anger, frustration, and passive aggression that plagued my Vegas adventures.

The Ugly:
People are SOOO mean. I think that everyone has spent a lot of money. To get there. To stay there. To gamble there. To drink there. To eat there. And because humans are apparently incapable of understanding what other people experience, particularly when they're shwasted on 64 oz of margaritas, they act obscenely towards others. I got cut off, pushed, spilled on, yelled at, and called out in just one night more than I have in the rest of my life combined. And it didn't end when I left! There was a white lexus SUV full of girls coming from Vegas (complete with "Party On Board" stickers. vomit.) who were literally ALL texting at a red light. When they looked up to notice that I had started to pull into their lane the driver honked, pursed her lips, and shook her head at me like I was an infant trying to lick a live outlet. Fuck You. Another girl, at the casino, trying to pull her friend away from my friend, shouted, "Come on! Leave the fucking grenades, let's go!" (for those of you who are as unfamiliar with MTV's television stylings as I am, a "grenade is a terrible term pulled from the set of Jersey Shore which means a girl who you would hook up with only to wake up sober and realize that she's hideous and a terrible human being). Great. Really killing it Vegas.

The whole experience raised one of the not-at-all-timeless conundrums of the twenty something's life style: At what expense am I forcing myself to be young, wild, and free? Because really, at the end of the day, wouldn't I have been happier hitting up an awesome club in LA (a probable small downgrade from Surrender and Marquee) and spending a night watching Arrested Development with my friends? I return to a valuable mantra: You do YOU. Don't try to be someone else. Don't go on trips or do things just because you're supposed to. Because guess what. The worst way to waste your twenties is by being miserable, waiting to do do things you want to do, or waiting for something better to come along. Get the giant margarita, but only if it's what you want. Do things on your terms. Try new things, because there's usually an implicit level of fun in the novelty, but don't force yourself to repeat frustrating things just because there supposed to be fun. If Vegas exists to teach us a lesson it is not a warning against over indulgence, it's a warning against indulging in what we're supposed to want. You do you. The rest will follow.

Peace Out Betches (More posts in the coming days, I promise.)