Nothing Important Happens By Chance

I was in Las Vegas in the photo I have attached to this post and I took it a few hours before my 50th birthday. My 50th. I’m still shaking my head. I bought a whole outfit to wear down and took the black skull dress that I had worn there two years ago and when I did it was so big that I had to tie it up on the side. This year, it fit. It was comfortable, and I put it on. My plan was to fly to one of my favorite places and behave like it was new year’s eve because technically it was. A new year for me, anyway. I saw it all in my head, streets filled with people, lots of flirting for no reason, music everywhere- like I don’t need naps these days. Like I can still hear in both ears. Like I wasn’t suddenly old and invisible.

I looked online first because it changes every time I go there, to see if there might be anything interesting to do but I couldn’t find anything that wasn’t a social media photo op or an overabundance of game or activities for people who don’t like to sin but they want to do in Sin City which is totally wack- why go to Las Vegas to eat food that correlates to Netflix shows? Being sober and vegan with 5 kids in tow in Vegas is wild to me but I guess. Nothing jumped out. My plan became, checking in, and then hitting up my favorite haunts and I made it to a couple, after an existential crisis, or two.
My inner critic kept reminding me that I was old now and invisible. It kept saying that the amount of effort I’d have to put in to still be seen at this age looked pathetic and desperate. It kept saying do you really want to sit at a slot machine and gamble, still? I was defenseless and not really interested in going to get weed because frankly, I don’t even like to smoke and drink at the same time anymore. Nothing good happens with that mix I’ve learned from years of experimentation. Around 1 AM, I’m a bit drunk, gambling more than I intended, and I’m searching for any older black women I could find, to ask for advice- like what the fuck am I supposed to do now? I found a lady, who told me to speak to her aunt and the aunt said to me, do what you want now and say whatever you want and that’s pretty much all you have to do and the rest will be fine. She didn’t seem drunk. I can’t even recall her face and she was bent over my ear as she spoke. I can still see her nieces and the woman who told me to wait for her to come talk to me which was a really kind thing to do for a complete stranger babbling on in the early hours. Then she said and by the way, it’s my birthday too. Then she disappeared. Like I turned around, looked back and her entire family were gone- they could not have moved that quickly away from me, it was only a second or two. I knew I needed to leave. That spot, that building and the city.

One last hurrah, I told myself. Of course, somebody bought me a birthday shot or two- and I got myself a couple, because why not. I stopped crying, downed my liquid courage and accepted it. I was a person that I am no longer. She deserved a tiny bit of a send off, though right and I tried to decide what I really wanted to do, and I left the casino, and as I was walking down the strip I ran into a man letting people use his equipment to sing karaoke on the sidewalk for donations, and of course, I stopped. I sang What’s Up by 4 Non Blondes and then as I tipped and started to leave, he pulled me back and had me sing Rehab by Amy Winehouse which I don’t know that well but apparently attracted enough listeners, who were probably also drunk that he surely got a few more tips. I went to a rock tribute show near the LinQ and tipped the guys to play Crazy Train for me and some broad came up to me and was like wait don’t put it in yet, hold on. She went to put on red lipstick and then she kissed the request paper and I wrapped it around the money. Surprisingly they picked the song and even gave me a fist bump after all the people who were there came out to dance. It was a Tuesday morning- 3 AM, minimum, and no one there was under 35. I got a ride back to my hotel and tore into the lollipop buffalo wings I’d ordered before I left the resort and stashed in my room, watching some detective procedural and went to sleep. The bed was nice- a bit too soft. A softness I could get used to though.

I cursed the sun when it rose but I flung open the curtains of my 34th floor room anyway. Can’t fight it. I thought for sure I’d stay all day but I just hopped an earlier flight home as soon as it dawned on me I wasn’t stuck there. It was time to let a bunch of things go- that I had been using as a part of my identity since I was 30- and one of those was my love of the city. I don’t suddenly hate it but it wasn’t the thrill it used to be, pretending to be other people, braver than home, with a bunch of other people looking for something that if they just sat quietly for a minute, they’d realize they already had. I don’t think I needed the glittering lights, I think I had to fly there, and talk to that woman- who basically gave me the permission I thought I needed from my mom or grandma, one of whom is dead and the other couldn’t care less, to be myself. A thumbs up that I was good enough, after all this time. I was willing to have someone I didn’t even care about come along on the trip so I could get that, but he too was one of the things, best left in my 40’s. Oh well.

People keep lying to me that I’m still so young and so cute with so much life ahead, and when I was younger that would have disgusted me but now I just think its sweet that I’m worried about missing out on something, or afraid of death, or just trying to be kind, which is nice. I’m not nice, but anybody caring enough to try to console me or encourage me, is. I’m going to have to let go of what they think, whoever they may be, whether its positive or not as well quite frankly, because now, like she said, its a do what I want, say what I want season for me. I was aware and it has been confirmed. I came home, and put on my favorite robe and slippers, had some left over takeout and got my gift that was waiting at the door, a copy of Enough Rope by Dorothy Parker, my favorite writer. Yeah sure I could have gotten all dolled up and had a party for myself or spent the evening in the company of gorgeous strippers but I’d already seen Monaco this year, haven’t I? No, just flying around, touching down, letting go, blowing some cash and coming home was just what I needed. I don’t really have a life I need to escape as badly as I used to. To me, that is a success in itself. The shout outs from my coworkers, check ins from my few friends and gifts from my child and my line sister, really were enough, on top of the kick ass skull necklace I copped for me. I didn’t bring that skull dress home though. This photo is the last time anybody will see me in it. I left it in Vegas, with some wages, some tears, some memories and took with me a little peace. Another milestone, complete.