What Happens in Vegas.... Stays on the Blog
*Best Read with Cardi B or Dua Lipa in the background*
Well, it happened friends. I officially made the transition from my young 20's to my mid 20's. Instead of sulking about my 25th birthday and dwelling on the fact that I'm still no where near where I'd like to be accomplishment wise in life ( if you can relate, can I get an AMEN? ), I thought I'd celebrate the shit out of it instead. The only place that allows you to party the shit out of anything, properly, would be viva Las Vegas, Nevada.
I rounded up my partners in crime and the COOLEST mom on the planet and we hopped on a plane from SMX ----> LAS. You could say the trip started off with a bang as it was a typical windy day in Santa Maria and my not so wise fashion ensemble, skirt with large slits, was giving the airport, people behind me, and stewardesses quite the show. The wind showed no mercy as it stole my innocence along with my turkey sandwich. Caught in the crazy wind frizzy, my subconscious chose my hoo ha over the sandwich. Wise decision at the time, but my hangriness had me regretting it the entire hour long flight.
We were ready to ride in style as birthday present #1 was waiting for us when we arrived. That cool mom of mine surprised us with a hummer limo fully stocked with turkey sandwiches. I mean, champagne! Oh, a hangry girl can dream right?
First stop was the "Welcome to Las Vegas" sign. Documenting this stereotypical tourist moment was essential for great birthday trip pictures. After riding down the strip sipping champagne and starring in our own version of carpool kareoke the Vegas virgins arrived and were ready to PARRRTAAYYYY.
The three of us slid on our slinky dresses, said sayonara to mamacita, and were headed to party with Calvin Harris at Omnia nightclub. Ladies, if you are in need of a serious confidence boost or feel like your inner sexy goddess isn't being appreciated like she should, please go to Vegas. This place gave my negative nancy ego a serious fricken makeover. I found my fun and fiery Charlie Angel side and not just any Angel... 100% Cameron Diaz feels.
As soon as the three of us walked in, the ropes were lifted, hands stamped, and we were escorted straight to bottle service. As great as free bottle service is, trying my best not to complain here, the whole process can feel a bit grimy. As the pimp, I mean promoter, hands you over to the customer you are expected to dance, drink their alcohol and have a good time. And you bet your damn dollar we did just that. Not soon after finishing our third glass of Dom Perignon we were invited to dance ON STAGE with CALVIN HARRIS. Literally could reach my hand out and touch him if I tried.
After the club, we did what any drunk and hungry girls would do... have our Uber driver take us to Taco Bell Cantina. One beef quesarito, a few tacos, and a tequila baja freeze later we crawled into bed to catch a few hours of sleep before the sun came up.
Next on our have-to list was a Vegas pool party. We were told Encore Beach Club is the place to be on a Saturday afternoon. Now, the three of us were not too stoked about dancing in a bikini in the 90 degree heat after a night like we had and honestly didn't believe we would even enjoy the pool party scene. We promised to give it a try for an hour, fully prepared to act on our back-up plan of cocktails and lazy river rides back at our hotel. Luckily plan A sufficed.
We had the fucking time of our lives.
A bottle service cabana built into the pool with a personal bartender, shots that tasted good, unlimited sunscreen and Fiji water bottles with perfect views of performer Alesso, we thought we'd never leave. We made friends with just about everyone within a 100 foot radius of us and somewhere between a couple vodka pineapples and 4 shots the entire bottle service table was chanting my name, encouraging me to shake what my momma gave me on the strategically placed pole. Smack dab in the center of the pool.
I did what anyone subjected to peer pressure would do. Turned to my friends, looked them right in the eyes and said "hold my drink and get your phone ready, you're gonna wanna save this" and swam my Cameron Diaz ass out to that pole ready TO GO.
Get yourself best friends that proudly chant "that's my best friend" as you make questionable drunk decisions. Those are the kind of people you need in your life.
That dance caught the attention of 12 very friendly, and may I add, good looking men. Body shots and boob luges later they invited us to enjoy bottle service that night at Hakkasan nightclub. 2/3 of us were single, ready to mingle and 6'7 professional volleyball player was catching my eye - pursuing me in the most gentleman way a guy can in Vegas. Accepting their invitation, we still had one more have-to-Vegas event to attend on our list before we reconnected with our new found friends.
I had to beg my friends to go to this damn show with me. They were both hesitant and skeptical about the quality of the show, how hot the men would be, and the cheesiness factor. But this birthday girl needed 25 to start off right....by sexualizing men, duh.
And damn did it feel SOOO good. This show exceeded all of our expectations, including my high ones! The tight grip on my legs and dropped jaws from both friends was enough to let me know they were having a great time. I swear these men were genetically created in the womb some 28 years ago specifically for this show. The abs. The dance moves. The sweat. The fucking hunger in their eyes. I was stimulated in more ways than one.... I"M KEEPIN IT REAL & HONEST GUYS.
Whether its your birthday, bachelorette party, or just a confidence boost getaway like I recommended, please schedule Magic Mike into your plans. These men will do anything but disappoint. And I mean anything.....
Yes, that's my mother cheering me on in the background. Making her proud one lap dance at a time.
After 90 minutes of my dreams/fantasies coming true, we said sayonara to mamacita once again and 2/3 of us were ready to show our new found moves to our own personal Magic Mikes we met at the pool. The third was just along for the ride being the supportive best friend and loyal girlfriend that she is. You go best friend.
Once again we walked, no questions asked or credit cards swiped, into the third club of the trip. There the 12 men were, dancing their asses off to the performer of the evening, Zedd. Dom Perignon in hand, Mr. 6'7 and I danced the night away. 4 1/2 hours to be exact. We belted our hearts out to Bohemian Rhapsody and killed the dance floor with the perfect cross between "Dancing with Stars" and raunchy rap video kinda moves. Let me tell you, this girl needed a night like this. I was able to fully let loose, enjoy the night with my girls, and meet a sexy man in the process. At one point in the evening, I looked down at my feet and realized I was standing on BILLS. Some rich ass dude was making it rain in the club! So not only did we not spend any money at the clubs, I actually MADE money.
Oh Vegas, you do not disappoint. But you do bring out the scumbags.... what did disappoint was finding out that Mr. 6'7 had a girlfriend.
*Cue the future post about what it's like being single and trying to date in your 20's and the shit you come across.... It's comin' friends.*
We got back to our hotel at 5 in the morning. I'm the girl who goes to bed at 10 pm after soaking in a bubble bath with a face mask every night. Vegas truly brought out a side of me that was itching to come out for a while now. After the flawless and sleep deprived 48 hours that we had, we were ready to head home.
Before hopping on our flight, we reflected by the pool hung over with breakfast burritos and piña coladas in hand. Agreeing that we experienced a weekend, and birthday, we'll never forget.
List of Vegas things we were proud of:
- Not dying.
- No one throwing up
- Everyone getting home safe every night
- 5 star Uber ratings all weekend long
- Not spending any money
- Getting mom drunk at Magic Mike
I'd say that's a weekend well-done my friends. And you know the first thing I ate when I came home?
You thought I was gonna say a turkey sandwich didn't you?