The suitcases are bulging at the seams. The garments are crushed amid souvenirs and price tags. The shoes, oh those gloriously glittery heels and sexy flats. Silks and satins are silent awaiting Christmas wrapping paper. Showers and steam rooms, slots jingling and show tickets spilling out of my purse. Vegas has been an experience and now is just a memory. I have had fun, but I have to admit that I am still not sure what the fascination is for the repeat visitation.
This is the city of mile high heels to match the mile high buildings. The dresses are as short as your memory of that last losing streak. Fashionistas brush shoulders with those that are trying to be.
Tonight had magic as I watched the Cirque show: Love. There was music and singing, dancing and aerialists. The larger than life extravaganza had energy. Paired with this was a gondola ride with the charming singer who crooned happy birthday in Italian to Ruth. The Venetian was truly a magical representation of Venice.
Earlier in the day, we were soothed by the patter of rain drops as we strolled through the outlet malls. The clanging of the cash register did nothing to restore our senses as we cheerfully handed over money for things that were not necessary but were very fun. I have the dress to eclipse every other dress I have ever had. The fit is that other side of magic - the made for you kind.
So, tomorrow I fly out in the wee hours of the morning and begin that trek for home. Here's bidding farewell to Sin City...the lights, the magic and the very tired me. Was it worth it? ABSOLUTELY. Happy Birthday Ruth.
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