I did a great disservice to my friends at the beginning of the week by not insisting on going inside the Wynn and next door to the Palazzo. I also stupidly left my camera at home on the day Laura and I went to the Wynn. and next door to the Palazzo. Well, it would have been picturesque, now you'll just have to take my word for it.

Start the day with a trip to the airport (4) and breakfast! While waiting in the car lot, I watched a twenty-something guy walk from the terminal down the next row from me, looking, what it seemed to me, for a meter with some money in it. He moved his van to a spot directly in front of me, but my first guess was wrong. With my window down, here's the basic story that I got:

Checking out of the hotel was so painless; I'm not sure what we did right. Of course, it was noon before we were out of the hotel and had dropped off the gals at the airport (2). Breakfast was sorted out to Mimi's in Green Valley, so it was midafternoon before we finally made our way to...where else? The Fashion Show Mall.

Breakfast at seven. Scott Hamilton was the keynote speaker. Despite the fact that his speech had little to do with the conference, he was engaging. Talked about beating cancer, about finding a brain tumor and overcoming other adversity in his life. He played the crowd well. His overarching them was you can accomplish anything you can set your mind to (sort of a "Find Your Grail" theme if you will.)

Fast forward to the end of the business day.

With only an hour of sleep on the plane and an hour of sleep when I first got to the room, that tallied to 2 hours total in the last 36. So no surprise, I crashed and had a hard time getting myself up on Monday morning. Gathering the gals just before noon, we decided to brave the world away from the Strip and ended up at IHOP as the first place we drove by. Hardly a glamorous Vegas destination, International House of Pancakes in Las Vegas is still a hearty, full breakfast. The facilities were clean, the waitress was polite, the food was good. Totally different experience than eating at one in Brighton, MA where the cops patrol day and night and you're lucky if your food doesn't talk back to you.

Las Vegas is ever evolving, and somehow that includes renting cars. All the car companies are now operating out of one complex, basically a rental car terminal. In a strange way, it makes the processing of renting easier. It used to be that if you rented from Dollar, you would take the Dollar shuttle with all the other Dollar renters and every customer would leap off the shuttle and race to the front of the line. The people off the shuttle last inevitably had a 45-minute wait in line. With a one-shuttle-fits-all system, everyone is going to the same place but to rent from different companies, so there isn't the amazing race at the end. The terminal is spacious and actually really thoughtfully designed. The interior ring has all the rental car companies and the exterior is just an enormous parking structure and each company is assigned a lot of cars.

Pause to give a description of the hotel room.

By the time I landed and rented the car, it was time to push the clocks forward. I arrived at the MGM Grand at 3 a.m. Even though they wouldn't let me check in until 9 a.m. (even that was a concession since, as the lady told me, they had to "rush" to clean the room) she was super nice about it. I wonder how many requests they get a day for early "courtesy" check-in? (They were very courteous, no argument from me.)

Weather in Florida causes a ripple effect in take-off delays that pushes my flight back two and half hours. It takes 15 minutes to get home and 15 minutes to get back. With security an unknown (but typically quick at Logan) and bags to check in (that line is out of the door) I choose discretion over valor and decide to sit out the wait in the terminal.

Hi. Back. Laundry piled up. Unpacked boxes. Heat index through the roof. It all makes me tired.

The time off was really good. Slept at odd hours and the best night of sleep I got was after I drank an enormous oversized mug of pina colada one evening that had me reeling. But otherwise, we were out late, late and up around noon. The new Red Rock casino is gorgeous. Simply the best decor of any casino I have ever been in. And it's a big area too. It's way west, on the edge of the mountains - which is no longer a remote place really.

I went to bed and when I woke up, the exact same episode of 8th & Ocean was playing on MTV. This episode also happens to be where most of the 'this season on' clips are pulled from. It is not much of a draw. It portrays models as spoiled and vacuous. They are pretty, but there are not enough partially nude shots, especially for an episode that highlights two swimsuit photo shoots. If the producers are trying to de-emphasize their beauty in favor of the plot, they are better off canceling now. The characters are either not fleshed out enough in the editing room, or they really are that superficial.

Cannot beat the modern proliferation of wireless internet access at airports.

We drove through an expensive housing development on the west side of Las Vegas, almost abut the mountains. (1 M + / custom and semi-custom homes.) We toured an open house. The home's particular selling point was a Spanish-style courtyard with a large fountain in the middle that served as the front entrance. It was a four bedroom house, each bedroom with a private bath (but only three had walk-in closets!) The master had a jacuzzi tub and a shower with rock facade walls. A peanut-shaped pool, a kid's play room with an elaborate mural painted along each wall.

Despite the obviousness of the name, this type is never limited to spring break vacations; it works just as well for bachelor parties or summertime. The trick is alcohol, sleeplessness, cash and a roomful of friends sleeping in shifts so everyone gets to use the bed. On the plane, these are the dead worst. They are drinking before they get to the airport, the order drinks on the plane, and don't stop until Tuesday. Even if they aren't rowdy, they are loud. This is the stuff of the finest reality TV.

We drove to the Strip to see my father on his 60th birthday. For his big day, he wanted to spend the day at the Wynn at the poker tables. I thought it would be nice to swing by and say hello. He took a break from the action and we chat for a few. He's still my father. Half-finished thoughts, random meandering, gray hair and all.

I feel the need to remark on this because I spent the last week building up momentum for this trip and this moment in particular.

I have always thought that my father was my future, but Christy tells me there's no way I'll turn out exactly like him. I'm not sure whether to believe her but just the thought that she might be right is novel.

I hate flying into Vegas. I inevitably always sit next to the Prospector on the flight.

This man (always a man, sorry ladies and trannies) knows the ins and outs of the Vegas real estate market and won't hesitate, is in fact, eager to share his knowledge with anyone on the plane. He is ambitious (the flattering term is 'entrepreneurial') stubborn and is inevitably reading a copy of the US News Today. He will regale you with stories about his eighteen properties, sip his bloody mary before take off, and then when he figures you are sufficiently prepped with his credentials, he goes on the attack.