WEST in FEBRUARY : Vegas and the Last Leg

It seems as though Hannah and I have been channeling Hemingway, Kerouac, and Hunter S. throughout the majority of this trip. It was good to have a peaceful lunch with Grandper and Li in La Quinta. A little walk through their new home, lunch at the country club, and a debriefing on my life. I tried to help them understand that my life is legitimate, that I'm going to be okay, that my choices are solid and measured. Grandpa loved talking to Hannah, she loved listening to Li, and I was happy to eat a dank club sandwich. We had tea and Li's world famous cookies back at the house and Grandpa and I talked about Weston, "how tall is he?!?" and I showed him a video of Jackson, "How does that get to your phone?!?" I have a lovely mental picture of him standing in his sunny driveway, waving.

Our trip to Vegas was uneventful, I drove well until we spoke on the bluetooth phone thingydoo and I had to exit and stalled on an uphill. If heard by any religious entity, I'm sure my swearing would have sent me straight to hell. We came in with low expectation and left feeling nauseated and sad for humanity. After a few slots and a few drinks at MGM Grand and a couple too many death stares from a woman in a club, we resorted to fried chicken and pizza with some Saturday Night Live on the side in our hotel room. The Mariott (found on Priceline - the best discovery of the entire trip!) did give us the most comfortable bed I'd slept in for the last 8 nights.

On our final leg we tried to play all the best music from our travels : Mumford & Sons, the XX, Florence + the Machine, The National... I won't be able to listen to much else for a while, and I'll always think of towering redwoods and a thrashing blue Pacific when I do.