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First, I should say that I can barely put words together right now. I felt this slide into speechlessness and fatigue happen right after dinner. And lemme tell ya: it sucks. I know, I know, that’s my mantra these days. But I’ve always loved being busy, doing everything, absorbing the whole world and then finding more to do.
Funny–that’s sort of like Las Vegas. It’s probably why I love that absurd party town in the desert, that fist in God’s eye, that irrational need for 24-hour pleasure gone just a little further into batshit-crazy territory.
It doesn’t make sense that I love Vegas as much as I do. I’m not a gambler or a heavy drinker. I tend not to like loud music or tacky advertising or, well, people in general. I’m an introvert who flirts with the autism spectrum. I like the feeling of being all alone, a guru on a hill.
But then there’s Vegas, where everything I dislike about the outside world meshes in such a beautiful rush that I can’t help getting caught up in it. I love the flow of bodies on the Strip. I love the chaos of meandering vacationers and conventioneers. I love that you can find another universe across the street, even though you can’t escape the same damned slot machines burbling away, or the identical alcoholic slushy bars, or the two or three companies that own, like, 90% of all the primo casino real estate. (The MGM group owns something like 15 different casinos. Where’s a good old-fashioned trust-breaker when you need one?)
I love taking it all in. It’s a bombastic shriek of cheesy culture all crammed together in one spot. And then if you want, you can take off into the desert where there’s nothing but mountains and rock and Joshua trees and miles and miles of empty space.
So I’m back from a 10-day Vegas vacation. On top of everything else, I’m guessing I have the post-vacation blues.
Hey, Fickle Readers! I’m tooting my own horn a bit today: I got not one, but TWO poems accepted to the inaugural issue of Helen: A Literary Magazine. Helen is a theme-based journal, with changing themes for each issue, but it’s also based in Las Vegas and seeks to showcase work “capturing the spirit of Las Vegas and Southern Nevada.” Anyone who knows my unabashed, undying love of Sin City will appreciate how much this fact is a bonus for me. (I’ve been to Vegas five times and counting. Would I rather be in Vegas right now, sipping a cheap margarita and losing myself in crowds of drunken conventioneers around the dancing fountains? Yes. Shut up.)
But all of this patting myself on the back isn’t really what I wanted to blog about today. Surprise! Even I’m not so attention-seeking as all that. Instead, I’d like to give a shout-out to my good friend from college–let’s call him Gryffin–who created this nifty picture-meme-thing and posted it to my Facebook feed:
Turns out, this is a reference to the Kids in the Hall that I’d never heard of before. But still, Helen!
(Also, my grandmother was a Helen, and she used to write poetry, which apparently my dad and uncle mocked her for when they were kids. Ah, the bullshit we put up with from our children!)
Anyway, thanks Gryffin for gifting me an Internet meme. I’m humbled.
And I hope it goes VIRAL, baby!!!!
(Yeah, I know. So much for easing up on my desperate attention-seeking behavior…)