What Happened In Vegas

As we count down the weeks 'til the arrival of this highly-anticipated baby boy, one thing's for sure: I'm stressed the hell out. I'm happy. I'm excited. And I'm stressed out.

Fortunately, the weekend before Thanksgiving, I had the opportunity to give myself a break and get away for a few days in Vegas. Of course, this destination wasn't exactly my first choice since, in this phase of my life, I can't drink, smoke, stay up late, make irresponsible choices with money, or successfully wear slutty outfits. However, I had a pass for a 2 night stay at The Cosmopolitan that I'd been hanging onto since January... and I can't say no to free. And the hotel has a spa, so.

We made the drive on Friday after work, fought a little traffic, and arrived around 11. As we walked through the crowd in the glittering lobby, all I dreamed of was checking out the room's private terrace, soaking in the bathtub, then crawling into the king size bed for some shut eye. This room may have been free, but it promised some sweet features.

It seemed to be taking a long while to pull up our reservation as we stood at the desk. I always get nervous checking in at hotels. I sighed and shifted my weight from leg to leg. I was starting to have to pee. Finally, the guy looked up from his computer screen, but didn't quite make eye contact.

"Okay, this is the situation right now."

Here we go...

"Your room isn't actually available."

I furrowed my brow, signaling that he was going to need to offer a better explanation.

"What's going on is some of the rooms are still being cleaned... and so it may be ready in an hour or two. You can check back. I can offer you a different room. It doesn't have a terrace. It's 2 queen beds."

And what of the bathtub?! I was having trouble speaking with him because I didn't process anything he was saying as logical. How could they still be cleaning the rooms twelve hours after check out? Holiday Inn can get the room turnover schedule down. How could a major operation like this fail to get it right? And even if it was being cleaned, which I was certain was a lie, how could it maybe be ready when the cleaning was done? If the cleaning was all that was standing in the way, shouldn't the completion of said cleaning put an end to the problem?

Since I couldn't manage to move the conversation forward outside of my head, Devin chimed in.

"But we reserved that room so how can it not be available?"

"Well," the man explained. "The reservation you had was for a style of room." Um. Yes, exactly. His answer just supported our point. All I could envision was the car rental reservation scene from Seinfeld.

Clearly we weren't going to get anywhere with this putz. "Fine," I offered. "Will we be able to move into our room tomorrow?"

"I can't say for sure. You'd have to check in the morning." Sigh.

"So we MAY be able to move into it in the next hour or else we MAY be able to move into it tomorrow. Or maybe not at all."

"If you just call the desk in an hour--"

"Yeah yeah."

In our subpar room, Devin took a shower while I paced around uneasily. I couldn't unpack. I couldn't go to bed. This was stupid.

So we marched back downstairs and found someone else to talk to. "Wait... who told you the rooms were being cleaned? They aren't available and won't be tonight."

"I knew it!"

She was apologetic and set us up to move into an even better room than the one we reserved. We'd just have to stick to our subpar room for tonight.

The thing is, the room wasn't actually bad. Under normal circumstances I would've probably raved about it. Sure, there was no tub. But the shower had a feature I'd never seen before -- a floor to ceiling window that faced out to the bedroom. There was a curtain for privacy, but it was controlled from outside the shower so my advice to anyone staying at The Cosmopolitan is to know and trust your roommate.

And it may have lacked a private terrace, but it did have this view of a wall.

There were also fun touches here and there, like colored pencils. I didn't have any illustrating needs at the time, but I liked the idea of it.

After taking a quick spin through the casino floor to see what it had to offer (answer: the usual), we tucked in for an okay night's sleep. Even though we have a queen bed at home, I swear this bed was too small. At one point in the night I moved over to the other bed to try to spread out a little. How's that for a romantic weekend?

The trip was not off to an amazing start, but it all changed the next morning when we switched rooms.

Now we're talking.

Look at all this extra space we don't need and won't use!

And the king size bed!

And the tub! Not only did it have its own window...

But it also faced out to the bedroom so no one would ever be lonely while bathing.

Finally, the vacation could begin. We spent the day eating lunch and laying around the room. It was possibly the least exciting Vegas story ever and I loved it. In the late afternoon I wandered down to the enormous spa for a massage, then reported back to our room for more lounging around until it was time to leave for The Mirage to see Love.

I hadn't seen a Cirque Du Soleil show yet, but most people seem to lose their minds about them so I had high hopes. Our seats were in the very front row, which turned out to be seriously overstimulating once the show started...and not in a bad way. I didn't know where to look as approximately 200 different things happen during any given moment, sometimes directly over my head or just a few feet from my face.

Aside from the room stupidity, The Cosmopolitan was worth checking out. It has a cool aesthetic about it. Also, a secret pizza place down an unmarked hallway.

See in there?

I may have been the only pregnant lady in the city. I know it sounds paranoid to say this, but it really really felt like a lot of people were looking at me. They were probably thinking exactly what I thought the one time I saw a very pregnant lady in Vegas, "That would suck."

But you know what? I was definitely looking at people funny too. Have you ever been on the outside of thousands of drunk people stumbling around? Barefoot girls carrying their shoes while still trying to convey the sexy vibe they probably had just hours earlier. Guys chomping on cigarettes and loudly failing to complete sentences with their friends "No, but you know what bro? You know what? Bro, you know what though?" I'm never getting drunk again. It's just too humiliating.

Anyway, we made great time on the drive home Sunday and I was feeling SO well rested that I was desperate to launch into some projects around the house and we even managed to put together (however precariously) a book shelf for the baby's room (don't worry... we'll get to a post about that eventually).

Now that we've had our last vacation together as a couple -- for at least the foreseeable future -- there's REALLY nothing left to do but wait.