And then I Realized I Don't Like Las Vegas

Onto and out of my final vacation recap.

Day 6:

I woke up and raaaan.  The ole Garmin didn't work so well amidst the majesty of enormous Zion rocks, but I would estimate it was 13 miles.  I ran with my phone, which means for the first time ever, I could take pictures while I ran.  I'm usually a hands-free only runner.

First picture is of my little nature pal that I almost killed.  I needed something to help show the scale...should have used my hand...but used a piece of gum.  Always in my pocket when I run.  Always Extra brand.

Then I tried to take a picture of a wild turkey in my path, but it ran away from me like a celebrity pretending it didn't invite the paparazzi.  I also came face to face with a deer, and sweet-talked it into letting me pass by.   I took a couple pictures of my run of the year.  Buttcrease was bothered. Normal.

Cell-phone quality

After showering up, I had a slushee from a movie theater food court where we watched a terrible short film about Zion on IMAX, and then we both got an ice cream before heading out on a short "farewell Zion" hike.

This is how casual the hike was. We: a) were hiking with ice cream; b) were wearing flip flops; c) I was wearing a dress; and d) we never got around to sunscreen.  It ended up being 3 miles of other hikers giving us a either a "what idiots" look or an "am I overdressed?" look as we steamed past them....dressed like we were going to the beach.

Once I finished my ice cream, I had to hike with the sticky cup in my hand. 

hehe.  Hiking with an ice cream cone = baller

Terrain not ideal for flippy-floppies

While concluding the hiking portion of this vacation, there is something really serious and important that we have to talk about.  Some of you will be like, "no way!? What!? I would never do that!" But for those of you who can handle this secret I'm about to tell you, your life will change for the better and never return to the old primitive ways of....the...female peehole.  Listen up.

Behold. The Freshette.

DON'T BE AFRAID.  Just do it.  You hike; you pee standing up.  You camp; you pee standing up.  You approach a disgusting port-o-potty or a gas station bathroom; YOU PEE STANDING UP.  You dominate the world, you don't get poison oak all over your hands while popping a squat, and you don't have to dodge the downstream flow of pee as it trickles towards your hands.  Life saver.  I love this thing.

The first time you use it, you will laugh.  And it will be hard to pee straight because you will convulse with laughter.  But now, I'm so pro, I could cook you a fancy meal while using this thing.

So then.  Zion and hiking was sadly over.  We got in the car, ate at our favorite joint in Zion, and headed to Las Vegas to spend the evening and next morning before flying  back home to the depressing reality of life not in Utah.

Goat cheese relleno, Whiptail Grill

Las Vegas--Day 6 and Day 7:

Culture. Shock.

I finally realized that Las Vegas is not meant for me.  It is meant for people who are into the following things:

1) margaritas in really long plastic tubes.
2) walking slowly down a sidewalk behind huge crowds in the hot sun.
3) learning that Seinfeld is in town, but knowing it is impossible to get to see him.
4) Hot Girls at your Door in 10 minutes. XXX.
5) Being able to choose from 6 different Christian Louboutin/Gucci/Prada/Chanel stores within a 2 mile radius.
6) Lying down like a slug in the sun next to a pool, and never swimming, maybe a little dip, sunscreen is for the weak.
7) Having depressing locals snap flyer cards in your face.  No thanks, no Hot Girl in 10 Minutes today, maybe next time.

Yeah I wasn't into the circus this time around.  Even people watching was not amusing, after seeing the same version of a 31 year old sunburned dude with drink in hand hoping to magically be as cool as Bradley Cooper in The Hangover.

To illustrate how much I did NOT fit in: after walking through the strip, we got a little bored at one point and decided to see if we could take THREE steps at a time while heading up some stairs.  The Gentleman did it successfully.  I tried, and ended up more or less in a wide-leg semi-splits position, trying my darndest to accomplish the 3-stair step.  While in that position, I looked up.  Two of those Bradley-Cooper-wannabes were having the laugh of their life.

That was when I really realized.  Adults don't know how to have a good time.  Adults think a good time is going to Vegas, to look at a lot of sparkly shiny things in buildings and endless miniskirts/high heels/cleavage and neverending alcohol and gaudy shows.  But the funnest part of my day was trying to climb some stairs three at a time, and not giving a crap that these desperately-clinging-to-college-dicks thought I was the most ridiculous crazy person they ever saw. 

Also annoying: I bought a hot dog and an iced hot chocolate....for $20.  Whaaaat!?

The best thing about Vegas was our bed at Caesar's.  I need to know what kind of mattress it was.  Best night of sleep ever.

Some Nike store promotion in Vegas, and I chose to do the obvious.

I bought a $3 test tube shot while wandering in front of Treasure Island

It did nothing.  Nothing.

10:00 p.m., we didn't know what to do with ourselves.  We saw a Dairy Queen listed in a mall directory and shouted, "Dairy Queeeeen!!!!" and then walked around casinos watching people play serious gambling games while eating our Dairy Queen.  This literally made people uncomfortable.  And maybe mad.  (Butterscotch dipped cone for life).

11:00 p.m., wandering aimlessly around the Wynn.  I have a thing for purple chairs...a story I'll maybe share one day.

Any Las Vegas haters in the house?

Who is brave enough to keep a Freshette in their pocket on their next road trip or camping trip or ultra?