I’ve been to Vegas 4 times now and I should stress my golden rule: never stay more than two nights. Vegas is a marathon, not a sprint and most reasonable human beings (yes, including me) lose steam after night two. That being said, I did stay for three nights and had an awesome time.

Night one, our flight got in around 11:30, which meant the other 9 girls were already drunk and ready to club. Emily and I ran into them coming out of the hotel as we were going in. One said “just come out when you look like us.” I say this in the nicest way possible but considering they looked like baby prostitutes, Emily and I were never going to make it. They left the two most incompetent people to get ready alone. Not their fault at all but we knew we weren’t going to meet their standards.

So, I slapped on a white v-neck and a blazer and immediately tried to get drunk enough to go to “da club.” We found some vitamin C packets and started mixing them with straight vodka – for efficiency, of course.

By the time we met the girls, they were all ready to leave the club. I did not complain about this. Perfect timing.

I suggested O’Shea’s where I could play Beirut. After being given shit about not being able to drink beer during flip cup because I’m allergic, I found a nice Samoan man named Bobby who was willing to be my partner in Beirut. After trolling my first game, general suspicions that I was lying about being allergic to beer and several shots later – I finally got into my grove and won some games, schooled some boys with my knowledge of football, broke the news to them all that I am, indeed, awesome but gay, and I finally left at 6:30am to return to the hotel with the one girl from our party who was still out with me.

Being in a suite with 11 girls makes sleeping difficult but I managed to ignore the general noise of the room in the morning via ear plugs. We ventured to lunch where we had the stupidest waitress I have ever seen. She somehow managed to not place two orders and when I asked her to go check with the chef about whether or not the dish I was ordering was gluten free, she didn’t or he’s stupid too. I spent the rest of my afternoon in bed with a gluten induced stomach ache.

I rallied for “little black dress night” and I’m glad I did. We decided to walk most of the way to dinner and were hit up by tons of club promoters. Two more girls had joined our group and we were a strong force of 13. After checking out one club and me losing $100 at the blackjack table, we decided to take a club promoter up on his offer for two bottles and a table at a club called Chateau in the Paris hotel. They led us up several elevators and seated us in a large table directly under the fake Eiffel Tower and looking out on the Bellagio fountains. Although it was outdoors, they had heating lamps everywhere and it was awesome. It didn’t take long before we jumped up with the go go dancers, became total shitshows, and all went home around 2:30, or like me, before.

I have the distinct memory of taking my friend home because she was really drunk and had fallen off the booth while dancing with the go gos – but I realized in the morning that I was getting taken home too. Classy. It took me a while to realize this but as soon as I was told I kissed a guy and didn’t remember it, I knew. Drunk me had full intentions of putting my friend to bed and going back out but I crawled into bed immediately (read: bed = couch cushion I slept on the night before when the room was full but didn’t need to sleep on again because we had gotten an extra room that night but could not be moved once I laid down)

I woke up the next morning feeling rough. I actually just stayed in bed until 4 and it seems I only missed two activities: brunch buffet and the ice bar. Meh.

It was the third night. We were all done with Vegas but trying to push through. We saw the Thunder from Down Under, which was fun, despite the fact that normally (and especially when sober), I don’t like men. It took me a while to want to drink anything and when I started, we couldn’t find anything to do. We went to three clubs, all of which were lame for various reasons. Between the first two, I bought a bottle of champagne for a couple of us girls to drink as we walked. Classy again, I know. At the third, we lost most of the group. We had the bachelorette, me and three others. We finally gave up and went to our jacuzzi in the room and were up till 6am talking.

It’s a blessing in disguise that we didn’t find much that revved us up that third night. Despite only 4 hours of sleep, I checked out of the hotel feeling awesome. Emily and I flew out at 7pm so we had all day to walk around. We saw a movie. We went to Gameworks. No drinking, feeling grand, seeing the sights.

Overall it was an awesome trip. Our time at Chateau was easily one of the coolest things I’ve done in Vegas. Not only that but I got to spend 3 days with some of the most amazing girls I know. I seriously feel so lucky to have found friends that can make me this happy. We could always just sit around and do nothing and I’d still have a good time. They are gems in my life (which I drunkenly told at least one of them this weekend).

Long story short: I made it back alive… And some of you doubted me!