Saturday, we threw some clothes into a bag, gathered some snacks, and headed towards Vegas. Have you ever noticed on longer trips that certain types of vehicles seem to have it out for you that day? Some days, Honda drivers all seem to want to box me in. Other days, people in enormous SUVs won't stop tailgating me, no matter which lane I'm in. Well, on this particular day, it was minivans. They kept trying to change lanes into me—not just trying to cut me off; I'm used to that. They were trying to move into my space when I was right next to them. There was braking and honking.

We stopped for gas somewhere past Barstow but before state line, and I glanced at the thermometer. "Does that really say 119 degrees?" I asked. I stared at it for a while, because I almost never see numbers that big on thermometers. While I was looking, the temperature changed to 120.

We arrived at around 6:30, checked into our hotel, and then headed out to meet up with beatnikside. We had drinks at the Fireside Lounge at the Peppermill. We had more drinks at the Double Down, where I was disappointed to learn that the mechanical horse—the kind they sometimes have outside grocery stores—wasn't operational. We chatted and put songs on the jukebox. Beatnik took a picture of me next to a sign that read, "Midgets are people too." We then decided it was Very Important to go dancing, so we shook around for a while and checked out other people who were shaking around. After all that exercise, we headed to the more mellow environment of the Hookah Lounge, which might very well be my favorite place in Vegas. If I lived in Vegas, I'd probably try to study there.

Things start to get slightly blurry at this point, because it was already ridiculously late, but the thing is, we were in Vegas, so onward! We had breakfast at the Texas (stop that rhyming, I mean it!), where Kelly and beatnik made fun of my tendency to be very precise about the way I butter my Belgian waffles. The Excessively Deferential Server seemed apologetic for giving us the bill, and she actually bowed to us. Beatnik told stories, and Kelly and I listened in awe. More drinks happened, and then not nearly enough sleep.

Sunday, I was a zombie. After struggling mightily to get out of bed and check out of the hotel before noon, I revived briefly and enjoyed some shopping over at Caesar's Palace, but I soon had no choice but to nap. One of beatnik's friends, who was shopping with us, kindly volunteered her place as a makeshift nap station. Without the nap, I don't think I would have been able to stay awake on the drive back—as I near thirty, I'm just not as resilient as I used to be—but with the nap and some caffeine, I was good to go. The drive back was uneventful. Traffic was light, and we made good time. Jeff was asleep when we returned, and soon, I snuggled in and joined him.

We never did make it to the rollercoaster on top of the Stratosphere. It was closed for maintenance. We didn't mind.