My Dear Vegas

Dear Vegas,

Classes are starting to bury me. I've been here four weeks and haven't found anyone that can hold a candle to you. Perhaps I'm judging preemptively. I wanted to write so you could know how much I miss you. I miss sleeping on your couch come finals time. I never told you, but half the time it was just so we could hang out. And I still recall the time I threw up in your tub because I was just too drunk and weak to lift myself up to the toilet seat. I slept like a roofied up sorority girl on your bathroom floor.

I miss your humor and ability to make light of almost any situation. Who else could come down with Krone's disease and still make jokes when I visit them at the hospital? I don't think I could have ever thanked your dad enough times for fixing old blue, or your mom for being so patient with the semi-weekly noise sessions.


That fateful Labor Day eve is ingrained in my memory for ever, and consequently in my permanent record as well. Who knew our innocent night of chalk and caution tape would escalate into 24 hours of court TV and stale, stale cake? I now smirk every time I see a Cobra or Viper. Admittedly, that was probably one of (if not) the most invigorating and eventful night thus far.

Hotel parties...I'll miss the hotel parties and the short notices, classic Vegas. And of course video game nights. I swear on my brother's grave that I could've wasted you if I had a mouse and keyboard instead of the clunky xbox controller. Anyway, how many times did I tell you to stay away, from our women? But you wouldn't listen, I'm glad you didn't. When I told you adverbs modify verbs, adjectives, and other adverbs, you wouldn't listen. Though I could definitely use an impromptu lunch date right now, regardless of your listening skills. Only no sushi! I just can't anymore since we got back. Maybe next time we go we can find ourselves a native widow to marry like we had planned.

If there's anything I learned from you, Vegas, it's to never make plans. I never planned on losing so many months due to petty misunderstandings, but I think that lost time was most beneficial in testing the waters of a friendship in need of redefinition. You always built that first bridge though, be it with a surprise AIM message or a bag of (the correct) Dunkin' Donuts left on the hood of my car.


You were there when I met my future wife, remember? She said I was "insane" for driving so far to see her. She called me lazy for having two copies of the same album, one for my car and another for my room. At which point she gave me a hug, and for the first time in my life, it felt like I was exactly where I should be. We saw her again and that time you gave me courage enough to take a picture with her.




You, Vegas, have been a seemingly endless source of inspiration. Your ability to conjure iron-clad logic out of thin air is something to be admired, as is your persistence and dedication to playing the Lwin opening despite the hecklers. Thanks to you I was enriched with prime triangles, factoral dimensions, Wittgenstein, and e^i*pie + 1 = 0. I still entertain the thought of what ambiguous fun we'd have if you were more than a would be room-mate. My Wednesday nights will never be the same and my Friday nights are sadly no longer associated with any kind of cardinality(finite or otherwise), but we'll always have Helsinki.


Well I'm tired. School is burying me. I could sure use the kind of sleep I once got on a return flight from Boulder city. I know you were disappointed in my passenger side snore-fest, believe it or not, that was seriously the best sleep I can remember myself having, and I should thank you for that.
And, Vegas, I should thank you for so much more than stolen naps, drunken strip pilgrimages, borrowed couches, and sweat-inducing chess games. but doing so would take up more space than Google would be willing to support, just know that I do. That's it. Good Night.

Yours,
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