Vegas.

Oh Vegas, you make me tired. 

You also make me laugh, dance, sing, cough from all of your smoke filled rooms, feel like I am in a strip club most places that I go, eat at weird hours of the night, stop in awe of the amazing architecture, wonder how much it costs to run all of your amazing hotels and also pay the PG&E, drink after breakfast, have dance parties in my room, smile at the fact that the cougars (aka-my mom and company) get all the guys, ask every taxi driver their names and their life stories, hope that the taxi drivers don't kill us, give a list of all taxi driver names that we previously had to the next taxi driver, dance with German men that don't speak English, wear a large paper hat on my head with obscenities on it, freeze my butt off (I thought you were supposed to be warm!?), ride a mechanical bull, get thrown from a mechanical bull, go on a roller coaster that makes me feel that the top half of my body is going one way and the other the opposite, stuff as much food in my tummy as I can at the largest buffet in WORLD, shake my bootie while standing on furniture, and so much more! 

I appreciate all the experience I have gained from you... but I do have to say, visiting you will probably only happen once every few years.  You are too much for me to handle!