The Restless Firefly

“Music saves the soul.” Play softly while you read. Wink! 🙂

I don’t mind getting wasted because of alcohol. In fact, I like to drink. No. I love, like deeply in love, to drink. 🙂 Adding alcohol content in my body from at least 2 bottles of my favorite Corona beer or a glass of vodka-cranberry mix is one of the things I look forward to when attending parties, or when celebrating an achievement, or when crying over heartbreaks, or while exchanging gossips and goofing around with friends specially in the beach, or after a tiresome sporty activity, or when just chilling out in my room at night while internet-streaming a movie with high ratings in Rotten Tomatoes I missed to watch in theaters. Yeah, it’s in my lifestyle. But don’t judge, I’m not alcoholic (yet). 🙂

I went to Nevada last August of 2014 (supposedly last July, as a birthday present for myself). I flew alone from Singapore to fulfill this long-haul travel dream and to visit my relatives in Las Vegas. I don’t really enjoy betting in casinos, so I can’t think of anything to do in Vegas but to enjoy the atmosphere and the diversity of out-and-about tourists strolling on the streets while, of course, DRINKING. I explored Las Vegas boulevard with my aunts while gulping our frozen margarita on a medium sized souvenir glass. I didn’t get wasted like I wished to be in this sin city, but I wasn’t really sober either every single f*ckin’ night. 🙂

I spent most of my US trip in Vegas, almost a week-long, mingling with my aunts and uncles and my 2 cousins who unfortunately are still in the almost-at-the-drinking age (and I repeat, ALMOST! urgh!) that makes them illegal to party hard and bar hop with me. I also had my first ever jetlag combined with insomnia which is unbelievably the worst sensation in the world that I could ever feel. The combo had me sleepless during my whole stay in the sin city. I was freakin’ awake at night watching random tv shows and facebook-ing at APAC day time. After breakfast, my eyes and all of me were damn tired and drowsy except my brain which just didn’t wanna be shut down as if I was in a roller coaster ride and was seeing flowers and butterflies while I hold-hands with a jaw-dropping blue-eyed stunning man of my dreams at the same time. I can hardly doze; instead of catching forty winks, I think I only had two. My only active window for all my days in Vegas was between 4PM to 10PM. On the hours I was supposed to be awake outside this window, I was completely muzzy and wobbly. Lalalalala. .

I spent more nights drinking and chit-chatting about life back in the Philippines with my uncle and aunts at their cozy spacious home while I was coping up from the jetlag. Another night was spent on dinner with my aunt’s friends which gave me a better understanding of how the Filipino immigrants are living their “American dream”. Singing with the karaoke while pigging out on Filipino home-cooked dishes and few bottles of beer is the typical way of our countrymen’s celebration in Vegas. I was many kilometers drive away from the Las Vegas strip on these nights but I still found myself drinking, it was my fate! Wink!

My first stroll in the famous strip was with my very generous and thoughtful Auntie Mimi and Uncle Sonny. They drove me around the strip first starting from the “Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas” signage to the hotels at the opposite end of the boulevard. They brought me to their favorite hotel among all in Vegas, the Bellagio, and hopped to different casinos and hotels around it. I watched them play the too-difficult-for-me-to-decipher slot machines and how they enjoyed burning their green Hamilton bills. I’m not outraging about betting in the casinos, it’s just that I prefer to spend my dollars in fridge magnets and local beers than let it be swallowed by machines that offers games which mechanics I truly can’t figure out. I didn’t even try the blackjack game which seemed to be popularly patronized by tourists. The only time I handed over a bill to the sexy casino staff was when I gave her a tip when she served my aunt a glass of pina colada. I still enjoyed the ambiance in the casino while watching my aunt as she gets frustrated when losing and giddy when winning. We watched the lovely Bellagio fountain at night and ended our stroll with an ice-cold Sierra Nevada pale ale in Born and Raised Lounge and Bar on our way home.

My next long walk in the strip was with my young and cool and Coca Cola-lover Aunt Kathleen. I had set foot into more hotels in our high heels with her. I had seen lavish limos and top down convertibles of, I assume, rich men with all the women glamorously and shiningly dressed up on the passenger seats driving around just like in Hollywood movies while the hip-hop soundtrack plays. I wanted to see some entertainment shows but because I was very eager to see more of the strip, more of the people around and more of the fascinating themes of every hotel in my very limited window, I decided to skip this. I wished to see the whole of the strip with an extra large souvenir glass like the biggest ones in Paris Hotel resembling the Eiffel tower of frozen margarita but it was way too impossible for me to finish one. Besides, my aunt is not used to lengthy walking in her 2-inch elevated pair of wedge shoes so we had to stop somewhere. We ordered a few more drinks (like I mean, mooorrrre) and tacos from a Mexican restaurant and finished our cigarettes then went home when insobriety was realized. It was a good night maximized in endless laughing over shallow things with my funny tita.

I was not able to see the whole of the sin city when there’s so much more to explore. I may not have seen much, but what I felt during my stay was enough to write nice things about the popular Nevada city and encourage you, my friends, to get a tour in Vegas. All my nights in Las Vegas were filled with amazement on the sights of extravagant architectures, amazement on the diversity of the foreigners who, like me, made their dream to see Vegas come true, amazement on all the things to do in the strip I wished I can do too when I get back to Singapore, and most of all, amazement on the availability of alcohol in almost all corners of every infrastructure. My gratefulness to my relatives who entertained me during my stay is beyond words. I can’t thank them enough, not even the Bakwa, supposedly my pasalubong for them – which, by the way, was confiscated at the McCarran International Airport – will suffice and match their hospitality. The famous sin city experience is indeed very pleasurable and should definitely be part of your bucket list. I’m sharing this with a happy heart though I wished I have done crazier shi*ts and all during my stay, I would’ve if I could’ve. Take the chance to see Las Vegas at least once in your lifetime and you’ll have night/s you’ll surely never forget and stories to share to your children when they reach their naughty drinking years.  For now, grab a can of beer from your fridge and drink with me. . Cheers!