Las Vegas, Solo : My 20s vs. My 30s

I’m sitting here in my room at Aria tonight after a nap at 7:45pm. It’s not really what you expect to be doing unless you had been up all through the night before. I wasn’t. All I did today was get up early to catch my flight and be here in Las Vegas, solo. And yet, I needed a nap.

So, here I sit, on this cushy bed with iPod nested on the pillow in front of me, typing out grandma emojis to my friends who are on their way here, thinking… When I was in my 20s , what would I be doing right now?
In my 20s, I’d be itching to go downstairs as soon as possible. I’d be itching to dance, see the clubs, get dressed up… Matter of fact, in this chilly December weather, I’d have brought dresses aplenty, heels aplenty, and makeup aplenty.
In my 30s, I took solace in this comfortable air conditioned, non-smoking room, with all the cozy pillows and amenities at my disposal, by app or by front desk. I brought not a single dress, but instead jeans, and a myriad of black tops to dress up with a single pair of shoes that I also wore on the plane, and a couple of flashy necklaces. My makeup bag is a slim 6″ x 2″ fold up case that could fit into my back pocket.
In my 20s, In the absence of my friends, I’d probably be sitting here in the room, anyway, researching which clubs to go to, networking promoters, and planning our night ahead. My emotions would be of part excitement and part resentment, urging them to hurry up in my mind. Why? Because in my 20s, I wasn’t ready to be seen out and about alone yet. I needed my entourage.
In my 30s, in the absence of my friends, I relish in walking around the room without a care, literally in my underwear. I grabbed takeout from Aria Cafe, and took it into my room to eat in peace with my iPad, playing Jon Stewart returns in the background. I half regretted doing takeout instead of sitting in the cafe alone, as it looked like such a nice place to be in. I am not afraid to experience things alone, I no longer needed an entourage. Even with that in mind, I sit upstairs with 20s me, just with a different perspective. The view for me now, is better from the top.
In my 20s, my friends and I would come to Vegas armed with pregaming drinks to slam into our hotel room. Drink cheap, then go out. Drink some more, fortunately on the tab of a generous fellow, but we never took advantage. We appreciated the generosity, but was just as able to pay for it ourselves. And when we couldn’t, we stopped and drank the rest of our pre game alcohol later.
In my 30s, my friends and I plan to hit up Mandarin Oriental and have some drinks while we talk and catch up. More than likely we won’t stay long, being all too self-aware of our trip budgets, the high price for a drink, and not liking the smoking happening around us. We will probably explore the streets, not in our heels and dresses with a face full of makeup (no shaming here, 20s Honey. I still respect that drive), but in our jeans, coats, and scarves, taking pictures, and chit chatting about the cold, work, and how we are all grandmas. We will be ready to sleep not too far away from past midnight.
Still, I have to acknowledge that this isn’t a static situation for me. I still have that drive to put that little dress on, change altitude with those heels, dance my night away, and drink to my stomach’s discontent. I still will, one day. However, most nights, my 30s self feels too good to be standing in line at some overpriced club, waiting for a 20-something promoter to decide if I’m slutty looking enough to get in.
The difference between 20s me and 30s me is that shift in priorities and self worth. I still love to do the things I used to do, but am just not always willing to pay the same price and play the same games I used to.The door isn’t closed. For the prize of good fun and good memories, a girl can still be swayed.

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