Leaving Las Vegas

16 years ago, I went to Las Vegas. At that time, I was in the middle of getting divorced. I remember standing on the balcony of the room, looking out over the Strip and thinking I could go home, pack the dogs and a few things in the car and drive back and start a new life in Las Vegas. It was one of those times in life when the crossroads, intersections, and possibilities seem particularly clear. I didn't move to Las Vegas.

Now 16 years later, I returned to Las Vegas to attend a conference. It was my first professional conference. Las Vegas is still surreal - oversized, superficial, disposable. Full of flashing lights and crowds, dreams and desperation. Some things have changed - when one wins at a slot machine, the money doesn't come tumbling out. I missed that sound. There are more hotels - bigger and flasher. Treasure Island which seemed so big years ago, appeared small this time.

Las Vegas has loomed large in my imagination for a long time. I have often told people that everyone should go there at least once. But now, I'm not so sure. After this trip, Las Vegas doesn't seem to loom so large. This morning, I had a sense of feeling more whole, as though all those years ago, without realizing it, I had left a bit of myself in Las Vegas. By returning, I was able to reclaim that part of me and bring it home.

I have left Las Vegas. Fortunately, I didn't have to drink myself to death to do it. There were no flying purple bats, no fear and loathing. Mr R is glad I've gotten Las Vegas out of my system.