Walking into the Wynn suites, where our 22-person group stayed over the weekend. I love the theme of Alice-in-Wonderland meets Andy Warhol.
A water show.
We walked to Tryst nightclub on Friday night:
This girl danced on the platform near our table in Tryst. At first I thought she was a paid dancer, because look at her. But she stopped after a few songs, and Vegas is the land of hotties, so she could've just been a patron.
Our bartender stayed at our table and mixed us drinks all night long. It made us a bit spoiled:
Me with the exquisite Elizabeth. This is still at Tryst:
Room at the Wynn, in the Saturday morning light:
At dinner, they brought tiny chairs for our purses. My purse received its own personal chair for the evening. This is a purse we're talking about. It's like the time Paris Hilton fed $25 diamond-emblazoned bottled water to her chihuahua.
Awww. Love turns Vegas from city of sinful debauchery to land of romantic twinkling lights.
Clubbing on Saturday night. This was a more touristy club. The patrons seemed more uptight.
Cheers is the place where everyone knows your name. In the case of some extremists, Vegas is that place.
It was cold on Saturday night. L was very kind to share her pashmina.