My Inner Compass: A Las Vegas Travel Blog
I saw the hostess eyeing me as I stood near the back of the line. “Are you alone, ma’am?”
The question was one I’d been answering safely over the past 24 hours, and I hesitated for a brief second. Instead of telling a small tale of how my husband was still in the hotel room or how I was going to meet up with friends like I had to the Uber driver the night before, I went with the truth. “Yes.”
“You can go ahead and grab a seat at the bar. You don’t have to wait in line,” she said with a smile, eager to seat the next party.
I made my way out of the line, gleefully passing other hungry people who’d gotten there before me. For the first time in my life, I was in a city I’d never been to, completely across the country, sitting at a bar - alone. And I loved it.
Flashback to a week earlier. My go-to concert friend and I decided to enter into a lottery, or rather she convinced me to. I’d signed up to receive these emails for years, but never entered. Whenever you enter into a seatfiller lottery, if by the rare chance you get accepted, you have to attend or they put your name on a blocked list for a year. I’d always been too afraid to enter, knowing that if I got it, I’d have to decline because who is crazy enough to travel to the West Coast on a whim? So holding my breath, deep down knowing I wasn’t going to get randomly chosen, I harmlessly entered the drawing nearly an hour earlier than my friend. I let Jacob know I’d done it, lacing the conversation with “it will never happen” statements.
On March 24, my friend’s birthday, I woke up to a Grammys ticket sitting in my email inbox. I texted her all of the normal Happy Birthday texts with many a gif of Beyoncé before telling her to check her inbox for her ticket, as well. Instead of the coveted email, she received a rejection, letting her know that over 25,000 people entered, out of which they randomly selected 150 to attend. When she told me the news, she was oddly excited. She begged me to go. My heart raced. I was only going to go if she got a ticket, too. I never imagined the scenario where only one of us had the chance. It was either all or nothing in my mind. Then I remembered, this was on my bucket list - attend an awards show in person. I felt simultaneously sick and excited.
I had a week to get the flight, hotel, dress, and work sorted before I had to be in Las Vegas. It surprised me how many people were rooting for me, telling me I couldn’t miss out on this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The night before my flight, I laid in bed terrified. I’d never flown alone before — not to a destination somewhere quiet in the Midwest, and definitely not across the country to Sin City. The apprehensive tears began to stream as I questioned my decision. Jacob comforted me, reassuring me it wasn’t so hard — that I was going to do amazing.
The next morning I woke up to an unexpected text alerting me that my flight had been canceled. In a hurry, we found another in Cincinnati that would get me to Vegas later due to a layover. My original flight had been direct, easy. Still scary, but easy. I just have to get there. I told myself when I rebooked the flights. I can do this.
Jacob drove me to the airport which was a longer drive than we had originally planned for due to the airport switch, but it was a nice surprise. It meant more time together to connect and talk before my adventure. When we arrived, I got checked in and suddenly it was time for me to enter into security, the barrier that would separate us. With our masks on we hugged goodbye a couple of times, neither of us expecting to well up the way we did.
“You’ve got this. I love you,” Jacob said as we hugged one last time before I maneuvered my way through the maze of stanchions. My gate was on the complete opposite side of the airport, but I had plenty of time so I leisurely walked there, breathing deep, feeling accomplished that I’d made it through security. I was actually doing this.
I caught up on work emails waiting to board. When it was my turn, I was with the last group to get on since I’d booked my flight that morning. I found a seat on the very back of the plane by a window. The flight was full with both seats next to me occupied by strangers. We didn’t talk, but I felt our similar level of nerves. While in the air, I had forgotten how beautiful the blanket of clouds can look. The little boy in front of me had his face glued to his window, “wow’s” escaping his tiny, high-pitched voice every so often. I smiled to myself, relating to his mindsight — feeling vulnerable, in wonder, and empowered all at once.
My layover was lengthy, which I was grateful for because the gate changed three separate times from when I landed. I had taken a tram to the first gate and was ready to find some dinner. Just as I took a place in line at a restaurant, my phone went off, alerting me of another gate change — one that would require me to get back on the tram. I left the line, my stomach unsettled as I journeyed to the next gate. I grabbed some snacks when my phone lit up again with another change, this time to the gate directly next door. Thank goodness! I finally sat down with plenty of time to eat my food and write letters to my pen pals. I was growing tired, but I was making my way there. I sat in an aisle seat next to two Texas men on this flight who made fun of me for never having heard of corn nuts (which by the way are divine). When I landed, my next task would be to find my luggage and get an Uber. The entire journey there, I kept thinking of my next steps like this: I just have to find my connecting flight, I just have to get my checked bag, I just have to figure out where to get an Uber, I just have to check into the hotel. I just had to figure out the next part of the plan to make it there safely. Then, I could sleep!!
Getting my bag, grabbing an Uber, and checking into the hotel weren’t so bad. It took me a few minutes to figure out each step, but there was no rush, and they weren’t difficult. My Uber driver took me down the strip, which was breathtaking. I felt like that little child again, practically gasping at the new sights and numerous lights. And suddenly there it was, The MGM Grand — the location of the Grammys — lit up in green lights with a lion statue out front. It all felt larger than life.
Once I checked into the hotel, found the elevators (it’s harder than it looks in a casino), waited as they rose up to the 9th floor with a man who offered me a classic Vegas “Good Luck”, and started down the long hall to my hotel room at the Rio, I found myself practically holding my breath. When my room key signaled a green light and an unlocking sound chirped, my heart practically sang. I entered the extremely large room feeling so accomplished, and my trip hadn’t even begun! Freshly showered and laying in the middle of a king-size bed, I had a realization — Jacob was my inner compass. The entire day, I just kept thinking what he would want me to do, where he would go in each situation, and knowing that he was worried back home helped me make the safest choices along the way.
In the morning, I rose early, unable to sleep - partly due to jet lag and the other part from excitement. I opened my blinds to find a mountain range outside my window, one I couldn’t see the night before. Today, my only task was to get my COVID test for the Grammys. Well, that, and find some food. I ate a protein bar as I got ready that morning and did some work before making my way into the hotel. I walked around for a bit, taking in the lively casino (literally lively at 9:00 am), while catching glimpses of the red rock outside. I decided on a diner inside the hotel and stood in line for only a brief amount of time when a hostess pulled me out of line directing me to the bar.
Eating alone, something I thought would be awkward, was glorious. No one told me what time to be up and out of bed. No one told me how long I needed to sip on my coffee before ordering food. No one was rushing me off to the next thing. I was a free agent, able to move as quickly or slowly as I pleased. I was thriving. I took a picture of my breakfast before eating it, and as the bartender uttered a chuckle in my direction, I smirked. I had taken pictures of my journey to Las Vegas, and I was going to take pictures while here. This was monumental for me, and I didn’t care if I was this man’s amusement of the morning. I was going to take the pictures and selfies because these were my little moments, photographs I wanted to take with me, and one moment of “embarrassment” wasn’t going to stand in my way.
After breakfast, I explored the hotel a bit more before finding the signs for the Uber pickup area. I walked past Chippendales to get there, seeing Vinny’s poster from Jersey Shore. How crazy that the hotel I was staying in, a Jersey Shore cast member was also performing in. Full disclosure, I did not go to a chippendales show while there, but being near a familiar face, even if just on a poster, was comforting.
Once in the Uber, I felt a buzzing excitement. I was headed to THE MGM Grand. THE setting where the Grammy Awards would take place. It wasn’t hard to find the COVID testing area, and as I stood in line, I began to talk to the girl behind me. We bonded over the fact that this was both of our first time being a seatfiller, which caught the attention of the guy in front of us. He was just as excited as we were, and suddenly we were all friends. When it was my turn, they easily found my name on the list, which felt surreal. This was actually happening. This wasn’t a scam! After our COVID tests, we stood around for about an hour talking about seatfiller research we’d done, the craziness of it all, and how far we’d come to get here. I can’t explain how nice it was for this to feel real, to be able to relate to someone else about all the feelings that were screaming inside me on the way here. Traveling alone was liberating, but having people to relate to felt like I could finally deflate a balloon that was threatening to pop if I didn’t.
Leaving the MGM, it was time to explore. The sun was shining, not beating down, but its warmth was a nice change from home. I couldn’t get over how many hotels, casinos, and attractions there were to see. I had pictured “the strip” being a street that people walked down, where cars weren’t allowed, but instead there were crosswalks above the streets for pedestrians. I would enter one hotel, and exit from another without ever seeing daylight in between. The exteriors were amazing, but nothing compared to the inside. Again, I was reminded of my childlike sense of wonder as a little girl stared at the “Big Apple” of the New York New York Hotel in amazement of its size. “Woah, that’s a BIG apple!” she exclaimed, and I thought to myself - I was thinking the same thing.
Something else that struck me was that my level of confidence was incredible. I wasn’t worried about anyone hurting me or following me. Number one, it was daylight, and number two, I wasn’t afraid to talk to anyone. I think for the first time in my life, I felt like a true adult. I was free to take however long I wanted at a restaurant, coffee shop, or exploring hotels, casinos, and shops. I could stop for ice cream, briefly consider getting a pedicure where the fish eat the dead skin off your feet, and buy a shameless tourist-y “Las Vegas” tank top. No one had an agenda — not even me. In addition, knowing that the chances of running into someone I knew were slim (well, maybe not, since my chances of getting into the Grammys were miniscule, yet somehow I managed to get picked), was liberating. I was free to just be me with no expectations. My entire purpose of being in Nevada was to get my COVID test, pass it, and get to the Grammys, but I found so much more than that in my self-security. Not only was I traveling alone for the first time, but I was doing it in Las Vegas and in hopes to go to one of the most prestigious award shows for top music talent, and I was thriving while doing it.
After covering over half the strip and seeing New York New York, Planet Hollywood, The Luxor, The Venetian, Drais (where Double Shot at Love was filmed), Excalibur, Paris, and sooooo many more, I was exhausted. My feet were hurting, and I needed a break from not having enough sleep. I headed back to my hotel to lay out by the pool. Had I ever gone to a pool alone? Definitely not. Did I have the confidence to rock my swimsuit by myself? Hell yes! I relaxed for about an hour and a half under the sun’s rays, enjoying the conscious nap.
Back in my hotel, my ankle really started to hurt. I couldn’t believe I had tweaked it while out. I had to walk in heels at the Grammys tomorrow, and I was not going to do well in this state. The hallway from my room to the ice machine was ever so long, but I made the journey. The rest of the evening, I got a bit more work done, iced my ankle, ordered food, and zoomed with Jacob. It felt like college days when we’d Skype almost everyday. It was so good to see him even if over a screen. I was eating dinner as he was going to bed. After I ate, I took a well-deserved shower from being on the strip all day and fell asleep watching Friends.
I woke up at 4:00 am, laid in bed until 6:30 am, and then finally got up. TODAY WAS THE DAY! I was going to THE GRAMMYS! My COVID test had come through as negative late the night before, and a breath of relief escaped my lungs. I just had to get ready and get to MGM on time. The crew warned us not to get there early as there wouldn’t be a place for us to go if we did that. After I ordered room service, took a shower, and slowly did my hair and makeup (remember I got up at 6:30 am, and I didn’t have to be at the venue until 1:30 pm), I showed up about 10 minutes early, and there was already a line.
The seatfillers I’d met the day prior were at the very front of the line, and while it wasn’t long, I headed to the back. Several people in the casino passed by giving us all odd looks, while others scouted for possible celebs passing through. Security crews escorted people through the crowds, but I didn’t recognize anyone. I made friends in line with middle-aged women from New York. They had been there most of the week and had been seatfillers before. My nerves were up as we anxiously awaited the next steps to get into the arena. Those in charge were taking groups of us at a time back near the COVID testing area I was at the day before. After about an hour, it was finally my turn. They ushered us across the crowds behind curtains to metal detectors. Once through those, we had to show our vaccine card, negative COVID test, and ID. Some people only had a COVID test and not the vaccine and vice versa. Those people were given special wristbands, marking that they were not allowed on the floor. Once I had my wristbands, I felt like I could breathe again, ever so slightly. I was officially checked in. They handed out masks for us to wear while we waited, had us check in our phones, and fasten a small ribbon to our chest. Similar to the crimson “A”, it marked us as seatfillers, so that coordinators and celebrities could tell us to move at any given time.
Once all of that was put in place, we waited, and waited, and waited for what felt like forever. They started to let us into the arena in a single file line and everyone began to rush. They stopped us, about half of the seatfillers already in the arena. I was not one of them. I waited patiently with the rest of the crowd, getting antsier by the minute. By this point, I pretty much knew I was going to make it in, and that we weren’t at max capacity, but my mind kept playing the “what if” game, driving me mad while trying to make small talk with other seatfillers around me. I met a couple of what appeared to be high-school senior girls who were most excited to see Billie Eilish. Suddenly, they started counting us off again, having us move in a single file line. This time, I was in the group that made it into the arena. We walked past concession stands as they placed us in a holding position. We stood yet again waiting. From where we were standing, I could see several seatfillers being seated in the balcony. We were not on the floor. My heart sank a little, but I reminded myself that I was at the freaking Grammys and to get over the seats. After waiting and listening to instructions of how we weren’t supposed to talk to celebrities unless they talked to us first, we weren’t allowed to ask for autographs or get photos, etc., they started picking out people from our group. I straightened up, and the crew member said, “You with the gold sparkle things and touched his side mimicking where my sparkles were on my dress.” I moved with the select few that were chosen to form a different line by the stairs.
After a few moments, a security guard told all of us we were going to go downstairs. YES! I couldn’t wait to just get there. That felt like the theme of this entire trip so far. I just had to get there, and then everything would sort itself out. He led us downstairs, which I had to take slower than normal in my heels, but everyone was kind and no one passed me up. Once there, more coordinators were downstairs, placing seat fillers at all the round tables by the stage. A rush of air filled my lungs. I was at THE GRAMMYS on the FLOOR. It didn’t feel real. Everything felt smaller than how it looks on TV. I was sat in Saweetie’s seat next to another seatfiller. We chatted for an hour before the show started, talking about work, our favorite concerts we’d attended, etc. We started talking about who was said to be there and then Halsey walked in. She sat at a table near the front, and my fangirl mind was somewhat subdued but in a good way. Part of me was hyped. I was near Halsey in the flesh, but I was also about to be near so many other celebrities that I couldn’t lose my cool over the first one, or at all for that matter.
Then, more and more people started getting escorted to their seats and seatfillers were moved to other floor seats behind the front tables. The time kept creeping closer to the start of the show, and I kept thinking, We’re going to make it. We’re going to get to stay in these seats when Bruno Mars and Anderson .Paak open the show. I can’t believe this.
Suddenly, Jared Leto was in front of me, finding his seat. He took off his jacket and stared me straight in the eyes. We held the gaze for a minute, well for what felt like five minutes, because I looked away a couple of times from the intensity of it. Finally he sat down next to Carrie Underwood. Then, Lady Gaga was there and Keith Urban, and Doja Cat was suddenly at the table to my right. It was like my brain was on overload matching faces to names as the realization hit, but also in amazement at how small these humans looked in person. On screen they seem like these larger than life personalities, but in person, everyone was so much smaller than I’d imagined in my head. It was a weird sensation. I noticed the Billie Eilish fans freaking out as Billie took her seat front and center, not making eye contact with anyone. I would have bet they got kicked out that night, but surprisingly, I think all their dreams came true.
The lights began to dim and the announcer said “Five minutes! Please find your seats in the next five minutes.” Then he came back on at two minutes, one minute, thirty seconds, fifteen seconds, and asked us to clap once he hit the number “3” when counting down from ten. I was sitting on the floor watching the Grammys start with Silk Sonic performing just a few feet in front of me, surrounded by music royalty. It all felt exciting, like I was bursting at the seams, yet I had to keep cool at the same time and blend in like I was one of them.
I stayed in that seat for a while, maybe a couple of more commercials passed before I was asked to move as Saweetie had arrived. I moved to seats near Hailee Bieber, Lil NasX and Jack Harlow, Kourtney Kardashian and Travis Barker, Olivia Rodrigo, Chrissy Teagan and her kids, Avril Lavigne, and I’m sure I’m forgetting some or didn’t even realize who I was close to at some points. I also sat in the seats of Chris Stapleton, BTS, and made eye contact with SO many people - Olivia Rodrigo, Jimin, Billie Eilish’s dad, Jared Leto, Lady Gaga, Doja Cat, and again so many more I’m probably forgetting. I made eye contact with Lady Gaga as she was about to perform on the stage, I could overhear Olivia talking to another performer saying, “Oh you’re about to sing? Are you nervous?” I watched during the commercial breaks when artists would mingle and walk across the room to other tables and introduce themselves to each other or catch up with friends in the industry. It felt like a party they were all happy to be at, like a gathering of friends with respect for music. I wanted to be like them, to walk up and talk about life, but I was a bystander, which was almost just as cool. There was no pressure to mingle (in fact the pressure was for the opposite), and having no obligation to make an impression was a release. I was able to purely observe the evening with the famous people I’d admired from afar now mere inches from me.
The night felt like a rush, finding a seat, asking a coordinator to be sat during a commercial, always hoping that no one would come back for their seat for at least a little while. Yet, it also somewhat felt in slow motion — like I preverbially held my breath the entire night, hoping it would last forever. Not having my phone, purposefully made me absorb the night the way it was meant to be through my own eyes, and not through my screen. A screen makes things seem farther away than they are, but your eyes, your senses without filters and barriers, feel fully alive in these moments. The night ended with those high school seniors talking to Billie Eilish right before she was whisked away by security. As they chatted, I stood next to another seatfiller who talked to Finneas. I looked around, hoping to find a lingering artist I could chat with, but they were all gone. It seems they knew a thing or two about seatfillers once the cameras were off and the lights back on. I had another seatfiller who somehow had his phone take my picture in front of the stage. I also snagged a fresh flower from one of the tables, grateful for the floral memory.
When it was time to go, I snagged a program from the floor and made my way to the line to get my phone. I didn’t want to leave, but the clean up crew was there too quickly, already ready to tear it all down, motioning for us to vacate. Once I had my phone, the two seatfillers I’d made friends with the day before and I got pictures together. We chatted about the entire experience, and none of us wanted to go “home”. We were buzzing. So alive and excited for the all-encompassing experience we’d all just gone through somewhat together.
After we finally said goodbye, I grabbed an Uber and made my way to the Bellagio fountains. I thought the fountains were just pretty to look at, going at all times of the day. I had no idea it was basically a fireworks show, but with water. I watched in amazement as the mist cooled my face. Frank Sinatra played and it felt like the perfect end to the evening (other than going to an after party - that would have been stellar). I walked through Caesars and found another Uber back to my hotel.
Once there, I filmed myself replaying the night in my head, overwhelmed with emotion and gratitude. I took a few more photos all glammed up before finally washing my face, eating some room-service leftovers, pressing my flower in a book I’d brought, and heading to bed. I just kept thinking I didn’t want to go to sleep. I didn’t want this day to be over and the memory to fade. A once-in-a-lifetime experience had moved me to tears and the smile plastered across my face followed me into my slumber.
The next morning I was exhausted, completely in awe of what happened the night before, but in need of serious rest. I hadn’t slept well the entire trip due to the time change and various levels of adrenaline, excitement, and nervousness. I worked for a bit in my hotel room before getting ready and packing. My red-eye flight wasn’t until midnight, so I had a lot of time to kill. I checked out of the hotel, leaving my suitcase at the bell station. They’d hold it until 4:00 pm, which meant a long time with my giant suitcase wandering around Vegas, but for now I was headed to a coffee shop. My head was pounding, a symptom of the combined lack of sleep, caffeine, and food. I ordered an egg sandwich and a coffee and got to work. It was already early afternoon back home, but I was just starting my work day. The sandwich came with a side of chips and maple syrup on it. I’d never had such a breakfast, and I quite enjoyed it. I worked there for about five or six hours in a fog before heading back to my hotel to get my bag. Once back, I wheeled my suitcase down a hallway in front of the diner I’d eaten breakfast at on my first morning in Vegas which was now closed. I pulled open my laptop once more and put in a couple more hours of work before calling it a day. Then, I uploaded my video from the night before retelling my Grammys seatfiller experience. My friend called me crying, feeling my level of emotion as she watched it. We chatted for a bit about it all, my brain still trying to process that it had actually happened.
At around 7:30 pm, I decided to head to the airport. I had received a notification that my flight had been delayed by an hour, but I couldn’t stay in the hotel hallway any longer. I planned to read or listen to a podcast to kill the time, but I knew being at the airport would give me a sense of relief. On the way there, I watched the colorful, tempting lights of the strip ignite the sky once more, somewhat sad that my journey was over, but also very ready to be home. We passed large cactuses, ones I’d been hoping to see my entire trip as we pulled up to the entrance. I wanted to stop, get out, and stare at them for a while. Their stature had me in a state of amazement probably over exaggerated from my sleepy state.
Once at the airport, I checked my bag, grabbed an acai bowl for dinner, and headed to my gate. I found a chair with an outlet and had just plugged in my phone and turned on a podcast when the notification hit. My flight had been canceled. I think at this point, I was so tired, that I felt more confusion and less urgency. I walked up to the attendant at my gate, but there was a line. A mother and her son in front of me were supposed to be on a different flight that also got canceled by the same airline. I asked her what we were supposed to do and we went back out of the terminal and into the lobby of the airport, which I had no idea you could do. I thought once you were past security, there was no going back. Suddenly, it was chaos. Three flights had been canceled all with the same airline. They had us all get in a VERY long line, waiting for the next steps. I started looking for other flights, talking on the phone with my dad trying to figure something out. I found another one with the same airline going to Indianapolis, but for some reason it wouldn’t register that my other flight had been canceled to use the credit. With only 15% battery, it finally accepted my code and the flight was now full. The airline workers were telling us all to get out of line if we didn’t have questions — that we would receive emails with hotel vouchers, meal vouchers, and Uber vouchers. They assured us all that no more flights were going out that night with their airline. Whenever I saw that my flight was canceled, I thought I’d still get out of Vegas the same night. I thought they’d quickly shift us all to different flights. I had no idea I’d be in Vegas for another 48 hours.
After going across the street to another section of the airport to get my checked bag, I made my way back, finding a chair near an outlet to plug my phone in. I had been on and off the phone with my dad and Jacob, while my phone continued to decline in battery. I was at about 5% when I found an empty outlet, which was super loose. I had to use my water bottle to prop my charger in place, checking every so often to make sure it was charging. I turned on my email notifications waiting for the vouchers. I’d made a friend in the cancellation line and he was now sitting with me, charging his phone, seeming more exhausted than me. We made small talk, and he eventually went back up to the airline desk, coming back to inform me that he was getting a hotel. He told me to go and talk to a specific worker, that she would help, but when I did, nothing changed. Finally I received an email with my updated flight schedule. Today was Monday, my flight was now on Wednesday. A friendly middle-age dad who was trying to get to his son for his birthday found a seat near me. He told me how he’d been there since 3:00 that afternoon when his flight got canceled. They told him the same story, and he had yet to receive a hotel voucher, as well. That’s when my hope started deflating.
He uttered the words, “I never thought I’d spend the night in an airport.”
I thought to myself - that’s not going to happen. The vouchers are going to come through. The guy I was with earlier got the vouchers. It’s just a matter of time.
I ate a protein bar (the last snack in my bag), my body confused with the time. I then positioned my suitcase in front of me, trying to find a comfortable position to lay my head down. I felt delirious. “Danka Shoen” played over the speakers, a song that was in the Friends episodes set in Las Vegas. A small smile crept across my face as I tried to sleep. It was now 2:00 am, and I had only received meal vouchers and a $50 credit for another flight in the future. My hope accelerated when the meal vouchers came in, thinking the hotel ones would follow shortly. At 4:00 am, I went back up to the desk, finding myself in a line of another canceled flight. Everyone was angry, frustrated, and tired. I told them how I’d been there all night and no voucher had shown up for a hotel. They asked for my email and phone number and told me they resent it and that they’d sent more meal vouchers, as well. None of which ever came through.
I made my way to the food court/casino upstairs and used my first meal voucher on several granola bars, a snack pack, and popcorn at a Starbucks. I ate the snack pack with cheese, crackers, and fruit and found a spot to work. It was close to 6:00 am now and I had work I had to do starting at 7:00 am. I went ahead and started making calls to people in EST, so 9:00 am. After I had completed the calls, I checked my mother-in-law’s Caesar’s rewards app in hopes that she had enough rewards for a free hotel room. She’d used her rewards to book my original room, and I would be beyond grateful for another. Thank goodness she had sympathy on me and told me to go ahead and get out of the airport.
I ended up staying at the MGM, where the Grammys had been held two nights before, which was crazy to think that it had already been that long. I checked in, showered, and went to sleep. I woke up about five hours later, did some work, and then fell back asleep for another three. I got up around 6:00 pm and ordered room service. I ate as I put in another six hours of work. My hotel room had an amazing view of the strip with Excalibur, New York New York, and the green lights of MGM lighting up the window. I felt like I was stuck in a weird time warp, feeling the messiness of my sleep/work schedule hitting hard. Around midnight, I went back to bed. In the morning, I ordered another round of room service, worked, showered, packed, and headed back to the “beloved” airport. I hadn’t left the hotel room since I had checked in.
Once back at the airport, I grabbed a coffee and pulled out my laptop to work again. After two hours, it was finally time to board. I found a window seat and listened to a podcast as I watched the clouds. When we landed, I realized we were one gate away from where I needed to be for my next flight, which was in about three hours. So, I used my second meal voucher to get another acai bowl, some yogurt and granola, and a couple of ginger shots, but not before a migraine started attacking. I lost partial vision, and as I was eating a man tried to talk to me about his smoothie. When I turned to look at him, I could only see half his face. I found a migraine pill in my purse, and bought some Aleve at a nearby store. Once I took those, I headed to my gate, and tried to just rest. Finally it was time to board. I didn’t listen to anything on this flight, as my head hurt too bad. I just sat there occasionally checking the time, hoping we would land soon.
Walking off that plane felt surreal. I wanted to sleep, cry, and yet I was now more awake because I was going to get to see my husband. I was one of the last people off the plane, and I saw him immediately. I ran to him and we hugged for what felt like a long, much needed time. I pulled down our masks and kissed him before embracing him once more. Staying in Vegas those two extra days felt like an eternity. I had been gone almost a week, and I had missed my best friend beyond belief. Now it was time to go see my other best bud, this one a bit more furry.
My first time traveling alone was amazing. Yes, I had a couple of bumps, such as canceled flights, unexpected layovers, and migraines, but I think that made it even better. I had planned the least risky trip, and these unforeseen upsets caused me to figure it out on my own. I was forced to navigate while relying on myself and my own resourcefulness. Flying to Las Vegas felt like a right of passage — like now I’m a real adult — one who can do this with kids in the future. Getting to the Grammys was the motivator, but actually doing it was invigorating. I surprisingly found myself thriving on this once-in-a-lifetime trip. I don’t regret a single moment of it. Would I have liked to have been home sooner? Absolutely. But, I have crazy stories to tell and went through something that made me so much stronger and tested my resilience which I didn’t realize was already so buoyant. I’m overflowing with gratitude for each moment; for each part that felt unreal, emotional, and exhilarating — refreshed with my true self who emerged away from home.