Vegas Baby!!

Now that I have captured your attention I want you to know that this blog has nothing to do with my recent Vegas/Cali trip. Shockingly, nothing too crazy happened aside from the homeless man calling me angel and the rando limo driver blaring Gorilla from his iphone/car speakers. Other than that... it was just your typical family vacation. Or at least my typical family vacation. Thanks Mum and Pops for having fun genetically intwined in your DNA.

Welp. Lies again... maybe this will be a Vegas/Cali blog. Because the more I think about it... the more I realize there is a lot that the world needs to know about this trip. Liiiike for example, the farther west you go, the less pushy/in a rush people get. Let us begin with my trip to the airport in New Yawk. Such a lovely day to be at the airport. It's so peaceful at 5 am in the morning. Oh wait. No. There's that crazed person running through an airport terminal that is literally no bigger than a gas station. Seriously? I thiiiiink you'll make it from security, all twenty feet to the "gate." AKA 1 of 4 exits to the plane. Lay off the coffee bro.

Passed out on the plane and woke up in Chitown. Ayo wassup Oprah! As I'm doing the nike shuffle to my next gate I hear a man on his phone. "I am literally not going to make it to my next flight. It leaves in 10 minutes." I start to think to myself 'gosh that sure does suck. hope it never happens to me.' And then I realize this homeboy isn't even walking at a New York pace. He's strolling through the airport like he's the Queen of England. NO LONGER FEEL SORRY FOR YOU. When my lil legs are moving quicker than yours, we have a problem. Catch the next flight, bro, and see ya never.

Next flight to Vegas goes swimmingly and I exit the aircraft. Having never been in Vegas I expect Showgirls, bright lights, slot machines, and good looking high rollers to greet me as I enter the terminal. As I burst out of the jet bridge very Mary Tyler Moor-ish I look left and right to seeeeee..... NOTHING. Da Fuh... is this Vegas?! *crickets* Huh... well this seems odd.

After picking up the all important luggage I phone the rents who landed in Terminal 1. Pops, unable to figure out public transportation tells me we're catching different cabs back to old Vegas. Ehhhhh. Wrong answer. Leave it to the Little One. I arrive at Terminal 1 and find all of the hustle and bustle I was looking for. Alright. So maybe only the midwest is slow paced. We arrive at the taxi line and the hustle/bustle that I thought Vegas had quickly disappeared. We waited in a taxi line that took ages. Walk down half a block. Walk the other way half a block. Step...step....step.... Um... helllloooo isn't anybody excited to be in Sin City? Can we put some umpf in our step or would we like to see Vegas from the airport line?

*Insert a few days of Vegas Shenanigans*

Helllooo California! We have arrived! The only thing I have to say about California... you wouldn't have traffic jams if you even tried going the speed limit. If you were feeling a lil devilish you could try for 5 over but hey. I understand we're all about hugging trees and being peaceful here. Don't want to get too out of line. (ok... might be extremely over-exaggerating here but seriously New Yawk drivers would completely steam roll these drivers. And why doesn't anybody use their horns there??!)


*Insert a few more days of family bonding and other Cali Shenans*

You know you're waiting for a flight back to New Yawk when a majority of the people have designer bags, pets in carry ons, and jewelry that could blind a person from 20 ft away. I sit next to a man that has no problem with taking up my half of my seat. I'm oddly fine with this. Get to the airport and exit the plane to see the teeny tiny airport is so packed that people are hovering like hawks waiting for an open seat. Yessssss. Love. New. Yawk.