Friday, December 09, 2016


Yesterday, instead of heading down the strip on the monorail, we took the Deuce north to Downtown Las Vegas. 

If anyone ever asks me for advice about going to Las Vegas, one of the things I'm going to say to them is, "GET OFF THE STRIP AND GO DOWNTOWN." Which is, actually, the exact opposite advice I'd gotten from most people before we came. I was told it was old and gross and that I'd definitely be mugged on every single street corner (maybe it's different at night; I don't know).

But then a couple of people, who've actually been there very recently, told me I haaaaad to go. Apparently, my fear of being mugged is less than my fear of missing out (there's an abbreviation for that, I think), so. The Deuce.

It was a great decision. Downtown Las Vegas is sweet. We went to East Fremont, where, apparently, little hipster city elves have been hard at work on a few-block chunk of Fremont Street (the original Sin City strip). 

We didn't make it to the Neon Museum (Sully is too young) but we did hit up Container Park, which is basically a mall and play structure made entirely out of c-cans. It was guarded by a 150:1 replica of a praying mantis with a 4,000 watt sound system, who also came equipped with flame throwers, of course, which shoot fire 6 stories into the sky. Because Vegas just can't help itself. If the mantis was in, say, Saskatchewan, it would be enough that it was a big mantis. But Vegas is like, well, that's fine but can it shoot fire?

Apparently the artist gave it to his wife as an anniversary present or something. Cute.

Anyway, it was all very trendy but still very vintage Vegas in all the right ways. I wanted to eat at every restaurant and visit every candy store, but all Sully cared about was the giant tree house in the courtyard. 

Sully and Vegas: ridiculously predictable, both.

Thursday, December 08, 2016

In Which We Meet Rachel Del and Eat a Donut

So yesterday I met someone from the Internet at a casino. Her name's Rachel and she's an author and she lives right in Vegas. People live in Vegas! Isn't that weird? We went out for chicken wraps and completely forgot to take a picture together, but I promise it happened. Proof: she blogged about it here.

One of the week's highlights, for sure. Internet friends are the best (1999 me is gasping and eye-bulging all over the place). 

(And the chicken wrap was so good, I went back there this morning for breakfast with my husband and his boss and coworker - but it was a weird second impression because the waiter seemed to be literally wishing away my existence. He refused to look at me, just about didn't take my order, brought everyone coffee except me, and didn't even bring me all of my food. It was bizarre and though I feel a little self-conscious about being so thoroughly hated by a complete stranger, it was mostly hilarious.)

Here's my daily photo drop, for those of you who aren't sick to death of neon lights. We didn't do as much yesterday, since we spent a good chunk of time hanging with Rachel, but I think that was probably good for my hips and my definitely over-stimulated two-year-old. We took the monorail to the Linq and wandered around the Wynn and the Venetian for a couple of hours, found donuts, got a burrito, called it a day. It was quite lovely.

Wednesday, December 07, 2016

Nap Time in Vegas...Again

It's "nap time" again, but it's not taking today, because mom jinx is real and I had a brief, happy thought this morning about how easily Sullivan was going down for naps on this trip and also because Barclay's boss is taking us out for supper tonight right at Sullivan's bedtime so he needs his nap EXTRA today. Those are always, always, always the days where a kid suddenly gets an extra burst of adrenaline and decides not to nap. I'm trying to win but it's not looking good. I'm feeling a lot of feelings.


I kid you not, he just fell asleep. Right now. Because MOM JINX. I reverse-mom-jinxed myself by writing this blog post! It's a thing!

Barclay doesn't believe in mom jinx. He will. There's time yet.

Anyway, here are all of my pictures from yesterday. We covered a bit more of the strip, Paris and the Bellagio, mostly, and then we wandered up a hallway and found a tram that took us over gleaming, angular, metallic skyscrapers to a magical little place called Crystals, which felt decidedly un-Vegaslike. 

We saw several water features, all created by WET (the same design firm responsible for the famous Bellagio water show and the Mirage volcano) including a little forest of water funnels (hard to explain, cool to see). We also stumbled onto one of the James Turrell exhibits (the other one is hidden in the back of a shoe store and is seeable by appointment only, which was so sad because I've heard so much about it and if I'd known I was going to basically trip over it, I totally would've called ahead...). We wandered through a Chihuly gallery and one featuring Elena Bultova, and then we just walked around outside with our heads tipped back. Architecture! 

And then.

We got back on the tram and went to the Bellagio water show (which Sullivan found quite lacking, to be honest) and who do you think walked past us? You'll never guess.


Sullivan did the most adorable little double-take I've ever seen, and then ever so casually whacked me on the leg. "Uh, mom?" he ventured.


"Should we hang out with those guys?"

But when they doubled back to say hi to him, he froze up in shyshock and whispered into my ear, "Can you say hi to them for me?"

And then Barclay got out of his conference an hour early so we got pizza. And that was the end of day 2. Or 3, if you count Sunday as a day.

-7 hours later-

Hitting publish on this, as Barclay puts Sully to bed and I chill on the couch with a coffee and chocolate pretzels. It's like Dorothy said in that one movie: there's no place like Vegas, Baby..