Sorry I’ve been neglecting you, dove, but I have been really busy.  First, I had my annual out-of-towner with my gal pals, which rolled right into a two day conference with Herman Miller.  Oh yeah- did I mention that we’re picking up a little work with them?  They’re just a tiny company that has the rights to classics from obscure, no-name designers like Eames, Noguchi, and Nelson.  You’ve probably never even heard of them.  But no big whoop.

So back to the topic at hand.  Every year, my girlfriends from college get together in some destination city and show the locals who’s boss, and this year we decided to open the can of worms that is Las Vegas.  I hope you want a quick rundown of some of my observations from the trip, because you’re getting one:

1.  Slot machines have become uber digital.  Gone are the days of giant internal wheels of avarice that spin upon the crank of a large arm.  They still have a few machines that look like that, but it’s just a clever ruse to get people who like the old-fashioned variety to sit down and ultimately play with a computer.  Many of them also have this little opening for what would seem to be your AmEx, but it’s actually for your Player’s Club card.  I was fascinated so I inquired, as I have been known to do.  Player’s Clubs, you see, help you get rewards for all the money you dump into the slot machines.  It’s like the SkyMiles of gambling.  Don’t stress over the fact that you probably have to spend $25,000 to get comped an appetizer, because there’s no better balm for the burn of self-induced poverty and a broken soul like a free shrimp cocktail.

2.  Vegas SMELLS.  It’s inevitable, I suppose, with so many people running around, but there is always something in the air no matter where you go or what you do.  Sometimes it smells good, like when you are at breakfast and the complex aroma of perfect, made-to-order omelets, French toast, and freshly cut flowers wafts into your nostrils, curing your hangover one healing molecule of delight at a time.  And sometimes it smells bad, like when a 65-year-old woman with the voice of a wild boar is sitting next to you at the blackjack table, gambling away her pension and drinking E&J brandy on the rocks.  That particular situation smells like Lucky Strike cigarettes and despair.

3.  Moderation is key.  For about 0.007% of the people there.  For everyone else, it’s GO BIG OR GO HOME!!!  “Come join us at our Around the World in 80 Plates Buffet, where you can enjoy lo mein-stuffed pierogies, panko-breaded and deep-fried, served on a bed of Wisconsin cheddar with Béarnaise sauce and drawn butter!”  And in some cases, it’s technically go small or go home, like the dress I saw on a naked-and-NOT-afraid-25-year-old, which provided less coverage than dental floss.  I’m not a prude; I simply realized that she would be arrested for public indecency anywhere else but Vegas, and I feared she was going to catch a cold.  I’m very practical that way.

In putting the punctuation mark on the end of our Vegas trip, I thought it apropos to showcase some pictures of fun designs that find their home in Sin City.  So, today’s post is dedicated to my lady friends, who are all more talented, more beautiful, and better at gambling than ever before.