Return to lush

We made it back from an exciting and fun-as-hell weekend. Lots of $1 shrimp cocktails, until we were literally sick of it, then back for more. Gambled enough to know when to stop, winning about as much as we lost. Ate some good and some crappy food (no more buffets for me, ever), and saw some crazy-ass people and places. Vegas is a place quite like no other. Nor should any other place be remotely the same. I'm glad to be back where my nose isn't caked with crust and my lips and skin are again moisturized by the air. Green things growing, that is refreshing.

Basically we (from most to least frequent): drank, gambled, walked, took taxis, rode on some scary-ass rollercoasters, and slept. There was some puking in there, but we held our own. Best was winning money and finding out how to drink for free - though the latter did lead to the puking, and oddly, the burning of the roof of my mouth from some mystery liquor (I think they used dry ice for the margaritas - ouch). Stories are best told in person however, unless you have a specific question, which leads me to the one you are all asking:

I am not married. I honestly don't think that Vegas would be a place that I would want to get married. It is not a romantic place, and the process I bet would take just as long here in Portland. Let the dolling out of the pool proceeds begin.

Back to the studying, and now I've got a hella lot to catch up on (yeah, like I was really gonna open a book when I was there). New batch of sea monkeys are being prepared, hatching to take place tomorrow. They'll carry me through these next few weeks of hell.

Oh my, what a weekend of debauchery!