However, the urge to physically run away has not abated, and yesterday I found myself thinking about Christmas with the usual dread. In the good old days, my husband used to work every Christmas, so I would make a date with a pizza and a Star Trek or Star Wars marathon. But a few years ago he stopped working Christmas day and instead hung around, hogging the TV, and expecting to be waited on hand and foot in that charming way of his. Oh, and let's not forget the way he would demand that we get his favorite pizza instead of mine, and if I won that particular battle, then I would have to listen to a lot of derogatory comments about my choice in pizza toppings, and about the unhealthiness of pizza in general! Pizza at Christmas is my tradition, dammit. I should get to pick the toppings.
Also, everything is closed on Christmas. I can't go to the gym, can't go shopping, can't go to a movie, can't go to a restaurant. There is one Starbucks in my city that remains open on Christmas, but the whole world goes there to escape from their families, so it's usually jammed to the doors.
Anyway, every year of my adult life I have fantasized about going away from Christmas, but never actually have, even in the days when I was more of a traveller than I am now.
Okay, okay, I'll get to the point. I'm seriously thinking about going to Vegas for three nights over Christmas. My husband and father are both not only onboard, but downright enthusiastic. I'm in the process of selecting a hotel. We've never been there before, so we don't know much about the place.
Have any of you guys been to Las Vegas, and if so do you have any suggestions or warnings for me? I'm sort of leaning toward that Paris hotel with the Eiffel Tower...