…a total fucking bust.

I had been looking forward to this trip for a really really long time. I bought my plane ticket about four months ago. We were to stay at Mandalay Bay. So all I had in mind was laying the sun, drinking, swimming in their wonderful wave pool and lazy river, taking pictures and videos and drinking lots and lots. I was so excited and talked it up for months….

…and then three days before we flew to Vegas I started to feel it. Sick. My throat hurt and was raw, I was exhausted, mostly because I worked about nine days in a row to save money for the damn trip. I tried to stay positive. If I didn’t give into the sickness, it wouldn’t get worse, I thought.

I was wrong.

I got there on Thursday morning, popped some Dayquil and felt ok. We drank a lot of tequila and lied in the sun. We had a lot of fun that first day. I felt better and I though the sun and alcohol had killed whatever bug I had. We went out that night hit a bunch of the hotels, rode the roller coaster at New York New York, which was amazing, and hit a few bars. I was still feeling ok, but extremely tired.

I didn’t sleep at all that night, maybe three hours at most and I think thats where I went south. We all got up at 8:50 am to go down to our rented cabana and I just slowly started to deteriorate from there. It was 104 degrees and the sun was just getting to me and towards the night time, I knew I was really sick. I didn’t go to Pure with the girls. I just stayed in the room and took a bath and went to bed early.

I decided that if I was gonna be sick, I would rather leave a day early and be sick in my own bed in San Francisco. So thats what I did. I got back yesterday, ate some potstickers, watched a movie and passed out.

So that was my amazing Vegas weekend. I spent a shit ton of money, got really sick and only took one picture.

Oh well….