|I bought a one-way to Vegas and turned on the 48-hours to live mantra.|
After frantically tossing a few pairs of heels, jeans, little black dresses, and some sunnies in a bag I was ready. Coffee in hand; head phones on. I was on my way to Sin City. It had been about a year since my last encounter with this place - I had also decided during that trip that I was getting too old for the bright lights, heavy bass and unruly alcohol consumption. Who am I? Hello...you are 20, this kind of stuff is supposed to happen. I found a cab, convinced the driver that I was an old local - thanks to all my college companions who used to live there and shared the secret of the "local route" from the airport which saves you a pretty penny. I was dropped off at the Luxor, as my friend Heather said "Oh the Luxor/Mandalay memories..." - yes, the memories. SIA used to be there, and we used to get wild - all of these industry shows are like a giant high school reunion - and help rekindle so many relationships.
Once I grab a coffee I was ready to go. Full steam ahead. I caught up with my a few co-workers and stormed the show. We saw a lot of good stuff, we also learned a lot of interesting things about other brands...stuff that really got you thinking "what on earth, why are we not doing that". I really enjoyed poking my head into other eyewear companies and see what type of technology they are pushing. We have some serious competition right now...
After being overwhelmed by brand awareness. Kit and I found some brewskis and went on the hunt for food. I can't tell you the last time I ate at 6 pm. Weird. The Crit was that night - so I joined the rest of my spandex wearing, leg shaving friends and headed to the track. Beers were $8, water was $9. It was dreadfully hot out. I had the chance to hang out with an old bike shop buddy who is killing it in the bike world in the Northeast. Super pumped for him. Did I mention he as the most beautiful eyes ever? Okay, he does. ha. Saw some crashed - note to self: don't crash in a Crit.
Then, it was time to put my face on. Time to really live. Black dress, check. Pretty face, check. Heels, check. Sidekick/21 year old boy entourage, check. We headed to the Sinclair party - loud music, lots of dudes, and expensive drinks. Awesome! We danced. We got kicked out at 2 am. I made friends because of my leather jacket - that is a new one! I was tired, but, I only have 48 hours to live - so, what else would you do when you have a gaggle of guys and a fat stack of $1? Clearly, you would hop into a limo and go to the Rhino. Duh!
|This is Kit: he is the equivalent of a brother to me. I keep him in line, he keeps me in check.|
Talk about living. I watched the sunrise that morning. It has been about 2 years since I did that - last time I was at Burning Man. Boy did I press snooze repetitively that morning. Kit was dead to the world, so I knew that my alarm wasn't bothering him. Friday was a big day. Remember how earlier I said that the emotions were flowing? Well, they were because I had a job offer and this was the big decision day. Clearly my decision was YES! But, I had to wait 72 hours to say that. I had been a hot mess. Crying, exploding with excitement, trying to be over logical about life - so then when Little B returned to her normal self after giving my answer I was relieved. So relieved that I started jumping on the bed yelling at Kit that we needed to get up and be young!
Thursday and Friday I lived on Latte's. Thanks a Latte! Normally one would gain weight in Vegas, but, I am pretty sure I lost weight. ha! After walking the show for a few hours Friday morning Kit and I noshed with some of the boys from Leader bikes. I think we all were starting to have a case of cabin fever aka Casino air.
To rid ourselves of a case of Casino Air Kit and I decided to walk down the stripe and get some good people watching in. Trust me, it was really really good people watching...and 7 miles of leg movement. I was actually bummed that I didn't Strava all the walking I did over the show (I secretly love doing this at trade shows and then looking at the map because it looks like a ball of yarn that a cat attacked).
A celebration was in order. We had champagne and sushi. It was amazing. I didn't want to move - okay, so maybe I did. I was determined to find myself an arcade and play arcade games into the depths of the morning (we used to do this at SIA when we would be burnt out on the club scene, which took about 2 days). Plans quickly escalated and I found myself putting on a dress again, hailing a cab and heading to meet a few of my road brobrah friends again. The scene: horrible smell, 90's hip hop music, watered down drinks, and a bunch of dudes. Awesome Vegas - awesome! The one good thing was there was a rooftop that allowed me to count hotel rooms with one of my friendlies (there are 62,000 incase you were wondering).
|Gangsta' Gangsta' Is you or Ainchya.|
|Driving home. Welcome to El Aye.|
We rallied in the morning and found Kit's car, some coffee and a donut and hit the road destination: West...the Pacific Lake (ha!). After one pit stop, 2 low battery phones, 2 sparkling waters Kit dropped me at the end of my driveway.
|Happy to be home.|
363 days to go...
So, to finish a bike show it is only appropriate to go riding - right? Beyond exhausted Ella and I loaded up the car with bikes and jetted South to Laguna to meet up with fellow bad-ass biker babe and good friend Rachel. We were chasing the sun. Sharing chick stories and pedaling like mad. I was all over the place - it was like I was drunk (I wasn't). I love riding with chicks that rip on bikes. I have a little inkling to get back into racing...Enduro's..perhaps? I am ready to conquer the pump track at work, start rocking it on technical downhills and get my climbing legs back (although I don't think I ever lost them).
|Tropical Bike Riding Skittles.|
|Babes on Bikes.|
As I pedaled back to the car that night I realized that I love my 48-hour adventures. I love being youthful and just doing what I want - seriously, you might as well now....I only have 48-hours to live.
|Coffee in Hand. Ass in the Sand. Sunday Decompression.|
Time to start planning the next adventure...
Sending Love from SoCal.