I decided to wait on discussing Vegas because that word literally tickled my gag reflex for the last month.
Perhaps it is my age, or perhaps it is the fact that having a baby meant not going that hard for over a year, but seriously, Vegas tried to kill me. Or at least it felt like it. I always know that when I go, there is a chance the drunk can take me down, because hello, it's Vegas. She has no remorse, and only invites you for epic nights. She tried to get the drank to take me out, slowly and softly, not rough and hard. She literally made it so I went to bed every afternoon after the pool party and every night after the club with a nauseating stomach ache, and an intense headache.
BUT, I didn't throw up. So, in a sense, I survived.
And, although my friends and I had vowed that 3 days was too many because we almost didn't survive 2 years ago, I thought it was perfect this time around. Arrive and relax the first night, followed by 2 days of pool parties, and 2 nights of clubs, and ending with an early flight home on the last day. I think that it was perfectly spaced out and involved just enough dancing and more than enough drinking. I also want to mention, that NOT eating probably contributed to my horrific hangovers. It did not help my body to balance out the drunk by avoiding food.... But I needed to make sure that I looked decent in my outfits. So food was not an option.
Priorities bitches. Priorities.
Perhaps it is my age, or perhaps it is the fact that having a baby meant not going that hard for over a year, but seriously, Vegas tried to kill me. Or at least it felt like it. I always know that when I go, there is a chance the drunk can take me down, because hello, it's Vegas. She has no remorse, and only invites you for epic nights. She tried to get the drank to take me out, slowly and softly, not rough and hard. She literally made it so I went to bed every afternoon after the pool party and every night after the club with a nauseating stomach ache, and an intense headache.
BUT, I didn't throw up. So, in a sense, I survived.
And, although my friends and I had vowed that 3 days was too many because we almost didn't survive 2 years ago, I thought it was perfect this time around. Arrive and relax the first night, followed by 2 days of pool parties, and 2 nights of clubs, and ending with an early flight home on the last day. I think that it was perfectly spaced out and involved just enough dancing and more than enough drinking. I also want to mention, that NOT eating probably contributed to my horrific hangovers. It did not help my body to balance out the drunk by avoiding food.... But I needed to make sure that I looked decent in my outfits. So food was not an option.
Priorities bitches. Priorities.
The hangovers were also probably due to the Jameson I was force fed for breakfast EVERY morning. Followed by half of a bagel..... and then more liquor of course. By the time we made it back to the room after the pool, we had 3 hours to sleep and shower, before the night festivities would begin.
It was a pretty intense schedule if I say so myself.
Through the hot messes, the drunkness, the overly sized souvenir cups, the tight dresses, the ratchet club, Calvin Harris, the shoes that ripped holes in our feet, the room bagels, the daybeds, the tables and bottle service, and even the dancing on the tables and booths, we survived another year in Vegas.
We stayed classy.
We looked amazing.
AND most importantly, we made it through another year.
Vegas, I love you bitch.
#SEVENTEENFORTYEIGHT
#jamesonandbagels
#boozeandbitches
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