I was going to be driving through Vegas on my way to meet up with Kristin and Jason again. Initially, my only thought was how nice it would be to stay in a hotel. But then I started thinking, "I can't go to Vegas and just sit in my hotel room..." But the thought of going out alone was slightly terrifying. Clubbing was not an option. (It takes a lot of alcohol and peer pressure for me to dance on a good night.) And I didn't really have anything Vegas-appropriate to wear. But I decided that sitting somewhere and having a few drinks was a possibility.
So I made a quick run to Target, where I found some accessories to dress up my canyoneering dress.
I consulted with my Vegas expert, Nancy, who advised that I hang out at the bar in the middle of the Wynn. It was the perfect choice; great for people watching.
While I was enjoying one of the best drinks I've ever had (muddled blackberries were involved), a guy from a nearby table approached me.
"Is that a Hebrew tattoo? Can I read it? I'm from Israel." I showed him the full tattoo. "Eshet Chayil... Do you know what that means?"
I was a little insulted. Like I'd get a tattoo without knowing what it means?
"Woman of Valor, from Proverbs 31."
"Yes, but it's so much more than that..." he said. I told him I knew that Jewish men sang Proverbs 31 to their wives on the Sabboth. He seemed impressed that I knew that, but troubled that I still didn't seem to understand the full connotation of the tattoo.
"That's a very powerful tattoo you have," he finally concluded. "Very powerful."
I was excited that not only is my tattoo legit (thanks, Hal!), but that it also has connotations I don't even understand yet.
I spent the rest of the night walking up and down the strip, checking out hotels, losing $5 to the slots at the Bellagio. It was perfect. And I felt really proud of the fact that I hung out by myself in Vegas and was totally fine. I could add another "Fearless" accomplishment to my list.
The next day I was woken up by a text from Kristin, asking if I could meet her and Jason that night in North Wash. Hell yeah! North Wash is pretty remote (about 30 miles from Hanksville), so Jason sent me a GPS coordinate where they'd be camping. I felt like I was on a treasure hunt. And I was so excited when it worked and I had no trouble finding their campsite.
Kristin and I greeted each other with a hug and high-pitched chatter, and then I turned to Jason with my tough face. "You son of a bitch," we said in unison, and clasped hands to arm wrestle. "What's the matter?" he said. "CIA got you pushing papers?" I couldn't keep my straight face any longer and burst out laughing with glee. While watching that scene in Predator, Jason and I had agreed that that would be our greeting next time we saw each other. I was excited that we got to use it so soon, and even more excited that he remembered.
Our week was off to a great start.
So I made a quick run to Target, where I found some accessories to dress up my canyoneering dress.
I consulted with my Vegas expert, Nancy, who advised that I hang out at the bar in the middle of the Wynn. It was the perfect choice; great for people watching.
While I was enjoying one of the best drinks I've ever had (muddled blackberries were involved), a guy from a nearby table approached me.
"Is that a Hebrew tattoo? Can I read it? I'm from Israel." I showed him the full tattoo. "Eshet Chayil... Do you know what that means?"
I was a little insulted. Like I'd get a tattoo without knowing what it means?
"Woman of Valor, from Proverbs 31."
"Yes, but it's so much more than that..." he said. I told him I knew that Jewish men sang Proverbs 31 to their wives on the Sabboth. He seemed impressed that I knew that, but troubled that I still didn't seem to understand the full connotation of the tattoo.
"That's a very powerful tattoo you have," he finally concluded. "Very powerful."
I was excited that not only is my tattoo legit (thanks, Hal!), but that it also has connotations I don't even understand yet.
I spent the rest of the night walking up and down the strip, checking out hotels, losing $5 to the slots at the Bellagio. It was perfect. And I felt really proud of the fact that I hung out by myself in Vegas and was totally fine. I could add another "Fearless" accomplishment to my list.
The next day I was woken up by a text from Kristin, asking if I could meet her and Jason that night in North Wash. Hell yeah! North Wash is pretty remote (about 30 miles from Hanksville), so Jason sent me a GPS coordinate where they'd be camping. I felt like I was on a treasure hunt. And I was so excited when it worked and I had no trouble finding their campsite.
Kristin and I greeted each other with a hug and high-pitched chatter, and then I turned to Jason with my tough face. "You son of a bitch," we said in unison, and clasped hands to arm wrestle. "What's the matter?" he said. "CIA got you pushing papers?" I couldn't keep my straight face any longer and burst out laughing with glee. While watching that scene in Predator, Jason and I had agreed that that would be our greeting next time we saw each other. I was excited that we got to use it so soon, and even more excited that he remembered.
Our week was off to a great start.
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