I suppose I should start getting accustomed to this position: eyes heavy, hands on keyboard, feet grounded on the carpet. Graduate school will undoubtedly bring an onslaught of papers and long nights staring at an overly illuminated computer screen (I just opened up a syllabus for class and oh lawdy, my blood pressure shot up considerably). Why not prep myself by writing a blog entry? These keys seem to be a bit dusty anyhow.
I will always have a special connection with my hometown of Las Vegas. It's the town of a thousand vices but I love it despite its faults. Las Vegas has never judged me so I care not to judge her. I fondly remember making the decision two and a half years ago to venture back home. I was in Utah at the close of my undergraduate career and driving through something I interpreted as a blizzard (probably more like a flurry to a Utah native) on the freeway. The snow was resolute in launching its attack and sticking to my windshield. In defense, I decided to squirt a stream of windshield wiper fluid. A very foolish move on my part, the windshield wiper fluid now being frozen alongside packed snow. I cautiously navigated my way to the next freeway exit while peering through a small space on the bottom of my windshield and utilizing my side mirrors. Once pulled over, I began chipping away at the ice and contemplating if I could realistically stay in Utah for another winter. With each piece of ice falling to the ground, my resolve became undeniable: I would be flying south for the winter and beyond.
Because of the considerable time I had spent as a child and adolescent in Las Vegas, I assumed I knew the city quite well. Going home would be returning to a comfort zone, a predictable place of friends, eateries, and businesses. I thought I would venture to my old stomping grounds frequently and bask in the nostalgia. Las Vegas surprised me this time around because it truly tested my conceptions about what it represented and what it had to offer. I discovered my assumptions of the people and places were quite outdated or possibly, never accurate to begin with. I was beginning to experience Las Vegas an adult.
My first job as an adult in Las Vegas required me to journey into areas of the city I had never stepped foot in. Part of my naivety stemmed from strong beliefs that these areas were less safe or underdeveloped. Pity I allowed these stereotypes to stop me from exploring, which is so essential to the adolescent experience. Areas like Aliante in North Las Vegas and Mountian's Edge in the southwest are flourishing communities with all the facilities of say, a Green Valley.
I solidified my status as a true foodie after returning to Las Vegas. That statement makes it seem like being a foodie takes some real effort, but eating considerable amounts of good food is really quite simple. I came to appreciate and adore the fare in Las Vegas-diverse, easily accessible, readily available at all hours, inexpensive and generally delectable. I even discovered my current favorite genre of food during my 2nd go around in Las Vegas-soul food. Ella Em's and M & M will convince you that your last meal on earth should be comprised of soul food. Note to readers: Please make sure my last meal on earth consists of collard greens, yams, smothered chicken, oxtail, and cornbread. Don't forget the cornbread-extremely important.
Finally, in returning to Las Vegas, I believed I would probably hangout with the same people as yesteryear, in those old familiar places. Very, very false. I met some dynamic individuals as an adolescent in Las Vegas and I was fortunate to meet many more after returning in 09. In our gatherings, we went to places discovered via Yelp: Japanese arcades, dive bars and karaoke clubs. I learned that coworkers have the potential to become your closest friends, advocates, and supporters (also learned not to date coworkers, but that is another juicy story for another time...like never).
A month ago, I walked my high school campus before once again, bidding adieu to my beloved Las Vegas. I'm undertaking that other adventure they call graduate school (Wait, my last post was on GREs and now I'm in graduate school, when did this happen?!?). While walking, I noticed that the outside of my high school is pretty barren, a bit sterile even. But inside those walls there is so much growth happening and so many seeds being sown for future growth. Las Vegas was a great place to start and a great place to come back to. I'm grateful I had a second chance to experience her and I apologize for all the previous Vegas bashing. You won't hear me utter another word.
