I Just Had To Stop And Laugh At Myself Today...

Looking back over my post about what to wear in Las Vegas, I suddenly got really tickled at myself for even worrying or giving a second thought to what I'd wear in Vegas this week. As if anyone in Las Vegas besides me gives a damn what I wear. Las Vegas is all about the casinos seperating you from your money, with a few great side shows thrown in to distract and entertain you. Which is fine, really. We all basically go to Vegas to be entertained, right? No one should ever go to Las Vegas expecting to win money, right?

I started wondering what the odds would be of me meeting up with an (ahem) *older* Robert Redford type, similar to the character played by him in the movie "Indecent Proposal". Hee hee hee hee hee! I practically fell on the floor in hysterics, laughing at the absurd and wacky ideas that cross my mind at times. I'd say the odds of that happening are probably, at the very least, 500 to 1. Fine then. Higher. Whatever. Maybe if I paid him. Yes, that would make more sense, wouldn't it? Except I'd have to have me a much younger slice of pie if I'm paying, right? Okay, no younger than 10 years or it would feel incestuous. Ewwwww.

Then, I started thinking about Beverly D'Angelo's character in National Lampoon's Vegas Vacation, meeting up with her idol (choke, cough!) Wayne Newton, which was actually a parody of the "Indecent Proposal" movie. Wayne was so hot for her, which I think gave mothers all across the world a new release on whimsical fantasy life. Not me, mind you, but many, for sure. I've always thought Wayne sounds like a girl. Still, the idea of that happening is rather fun to ponder. Well, it is for me, anyway. For a minute.

So, I began thinking that since nothing like the aforementioned scenarios has a hope in hell of happening, why am I worried about what I'm going to wear? Gee, I don't think Mr. Snooty is going to get a wild hair and ask me to marry him all over again. He hasn't gotten a wild hair in at least 25 years. We aren't going to see any shows because this is the time of year when the big shows are on hiatus.

In short, all we're going to do is wager away our allotted hard earned dollars with total abandon and eat ourselves into wanton oblivion. We plan to go downtown to the Golden Nugget to gamble on the cheap tables one day, but otherwise, we'll probably stay at our hotel/casino, The Wynn. I plan to have a mini spa day, but at the hotel's prices, I'm sure it will resemble something more like a micro mini spa day. We fly into Las Vegas on Thursday morning and we leave on Sunday morning. So, why was I so worried? It will be over before I've hardly blinked my eyes.

I'll tell you why. Because I forgot I'm old. Yes, apparently, there is a perk to aging and losing your mind after all. Periodically, you forget just exactly how old you are, allowing your imagination to get carried away, thinking of yourself as the voluptuous young flower you once were... a hundred years ago. Yes, and the older you get, the longer the periods of time spent in fantasy land. That can't be all bad, huh? Except when your fantasies run into your realities and you begin actually thinking it matters what you look like in a world of young, hard bodies. As if.

However crazy I might be... we WILL NOT be doing this while in Vegas:

I get dizzy and nauseated just LOOKING at the picture.