It seems like a dream that I am here in Las Vegas. The desert is dry and disorienting. I went through several bottles of water while driving, and still needed more, because i am so parched. i keep slathering on moisturizer.
Took part in another lavish, decadent, delicious brunch here in the hotel this morning, before saying good bye to my cousins. After all these miles and years apart, these people are familiar. I can see my mother's features on their faces, and they all have her mannerisms. My cousin's daughter reminded me of our grandfather, with her leadership skills, as she explained her buffet strategy. She surveys the entire buffet before making any selections, as opposed to several of our relatives, who just go wily-nily, and then end up too full to eat something they might have really liked. She also came back with plates of food for the table, something I remember my uncle Charles, who was a lot like our grandfather, do at many family weddings.
In these times of everyone coming out about something, I finally came out to my family about something important. I confessed that i really wasn't a chocolate lover, that I could take it or leave it, and that I really love anything but chocolate. If i had announced that i was considering gender reassignment, the reaction would have been similar.
"It's chocolate, or it isn't worth eating," said my cousin, Carole.
Helen apologized for not giving me the grand tour of Vegas, and for taking me to what she described as probably the worst food place in the city. I still had a blast with them, and told her I would travel anywhere with them again. They got back to the hotel last night at two and gambled for a while. So i better get in shape if i want to travel with them.