Dateline: LAS VEGAS, Nevada

After spending the entire winter in flannel pajamas by a warm and cozy fire, I was a bit concerned about leaving the serene and placid environment of Reedsport, Oregon and moving on to the Wild West state of Nevada. After all, I am still a bit of an ingenue when it comes to these things.

I left the beautiful Oregon coast feeling totally relaxed and hydrated, and arrived in Las Vegas (where everyone’s middle name is dehydration) via Carson City, Nevada (but that is another story.) I’ll admit that the flight made me feel a little depressed, but once we got to the hotel room and unpacked, I perked right up...especially when I heard The Girls talking about going to see the “World Cup!” Wow! I could only imagine what THAT was going to look like! But after discovering it was only a horse show, I didn’t mind at all being left behind in the hotel room. I was quite pleased with the accommodations and just knew we wouldn’t have any problems with clogged drains.

As the weekend progressed, however, I began to feel a bit neglected. The Girls were having a grand time, yet I remained packed away in my traveling bag, while Victoria and other lingerie seemed to enjoy plenty of action and excitement. I tried not to take it personally - my traveling chaperon was still relatively new at her duties and I could tell she had a lot on her plate that weekend. Still…if she’d only let me do what I do best and give her the support and comfort she so desperately needed…isn’t that what good friends are for?

I would have really enjoyed shopping with The Girls at the mall, or attending “Menopause the Musical,” or gambling at the Casino Royale, trying my luck at the Wheel of Fortune...even a trip out to the pool would have been nice! Instead, I found myself hanging around inside the hotel room most of the time. I did spend one delightful late afternoon drinking wine with one of The Girls who, for purely sentimental reasons, was pretending to be 17 years old again and trying to figure out how she was going to play the ace in her pocket.

I almost busted out onto the strip Saturday evening when the least endowed (poor thing) member of The Girls received a cell phone call to bring me along with her to the dueling piano bar at New York, New York! Unfortunately, she was carrying a purse the size of a credit card, so there was no way I would ever fit in there without hanging out and exposing myself, and the proposition to stuff me into her shirt was quickly ruled out for the same reason. Using me as earmuffs was just out of the question in Vegas. Perhaps if we were in Tahoe, we could have pulled it off.

I understand they all had a fabulous Italian dinner, complete with a piano bar and Frank Sinatra songs, which not only provided a few nostalgic moments for The Girls, but successfully created some new memories that shall not soon be forgotten. Since I wasn’t there, I cannot tell you anymore than that...plus, you know what they say about what happens in Vegas....

I finally made it out onto the balcony of our hotel room for THIS photo op on Sunday morning. While it wasn’t all I had hoped for, at least I got to take in a few of the sights. More importantly, I silently witnessed the meaning and value of unconditional friendship among my traveling companions, and learned a few life lessons myself.

"You got to know when to hold em’, know when to fold em’.”