This morning I darted to Red Rocks, while Angie and Diane hit the Vegas strip. There were whisperings of flash flood warnings in the canyon, but I decided it was worth a shot. After a couple hours of climbing around the rain started pouring down. It was time to exit.
As we hiked out the sights were pretty epic. Storm clouds hovered over Mt. Charleston while small waterfalls began to spontaneously appear in every available crevasse. When we reached the parking lot Andy and I gave a quick high five, nodded and began our windy journey out of the park.
By the time I got out of Red Rocks Angie and Diane were already halfway through their Bellagio buffet adventure. I may have missed that opportunity, but luckily my favorite buffet was just across the street. The selected feast, one ginormous spinach salad and a few samples from the hot bar. Whole Foods never fails me.
Back at Diane’s I removed the yoga pants and sports bra that had been glued to my body for the past four days. I showered. I shaved. I applied make-up. All of these events seemed completely foreign, but necessary. After all, I was off to the Vegas strip.
Vegas. Shit man. I appreciate the fact that what happens here, stays here. As I strolled through the casino memories of broken fingers, poolside courtship and tasteless outfits began to flash through my head. While the rock star inside wanted to rear her ugly head, I had one goal for the evening – preservation of dignity.
One Cirque du Soleil show, a huge bowl of vermicelli noodles and a single $30 “free” drink later, here I am. My state, mostly sober. My chosen garb, thermals. My dignity, preserved. This may be my most successful Vegas trip to date.
Day 10,221. San Diego tomorrow.
Cherrettie
Forever Paisley 
Express yourself …