It's not you, it's where you are.

By the time my lease is up at the end of this year, I will have been in Vegas for over 3 years, which is longer than anywhere else I’ve lived since I was in high school. I feel like I have a pretty good grasp on this place - enough to have a very formulated opinion if nothing else, and lately I’ve been putting a lot of thought into my relationship with this city. Just like me, she can be a real dame and a real doozy, when she wants to be.

Vegas is the city that’s notorious for drunken 72-hour long marriages, one-night stands, gambling addictions, drive through chapels, and the “I'll scratch your back if you scratch mine” mentality. The dresses are too short, the heels too high, the alcohol too expensive, and the people just fake enough to make you question how living here can possibly be considered real life. But it is real life for those of us who have taken up residency. With the expectation of fake eyelashes, push up bras, and 6 inch pumps that murder your body from your feet to your neck, one weekend is usually enough for people to get a taste and then head back to whatever “normal” city they left behind for a few days of lavish extremities. Thankfully living downtown isn’t as extreme as what you might experience if you venture south down Las Vegas Blvd (enter: Fantasy Land). The Strip turns Vegas into a city of magic and mischief, which is both tempting and troublesome.

Vegas is the city that giveth and the city that taketh away. It gives you a platform for your wildest dreams to manifest because no dream is too big, too outrageous, too extreme. It’s the city that gives you hope for your future by planting the idea that you can do anything or be anyone you want to be (you want to be Tupac or a sexy cowboy? Head on down to Fremont Street and you've got yourself a gig). It provides an atmosphere of constant excitement and entertainment around every corner. There’s truly never a dull moment - unless you choose to spend your Friday nights on the couch with Ted Mosby and a glass of sangria (which there's nothing wrong with, by the way).

But it can also take that all away faster than you can say “what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas." I’ve seen more start-up companies try and fail and come and go than I even knew existed. I’ve seen people get carried away having TOO much fun and end up at their version of rock bottom, which ranges from being blacked out over a strangers toilet seat to losing their home because they gambled it away. I’ve seen hearts get broken when it all just becomes too much to bear: lovers lose interest, sin city soulmates head home, and people you care about start to leave because they realize what comes next.

You’re constantly surrounded by thousands of people, all seemingly pulsing and buzzing like a choir in unison. Yet the loneliness of this city is palpable, and much like with every added drink on a Saturday night you can feel it coursing through your blood stream. You’re hardly ever alone, yet you’re always lonely. You’re out playing with your friends and laughing on the outside, maybe even drunkenly singing at the piano bar if you’re feeling bold. But deep down that last shot of Fireball represents the feeling in the pit of your stomach that your life is just missing something. You’re constantly told by everyone you meet to suck it up because you’re "so young” - as if that means you lack the ability to formulate a genuine opinion of your own circumstances. After one year and +15 pounds of beer belly, you begin to realize that this city is not sustainable for 20-somethings chasing after their futures. We can’t last. The expectations are not realistic.

Knowing you’re not leaving anytime soon (and face it, you don’t want to yet), you spend the next 6 months trying to make the most of where you’re at by not letting yourself get sucked downstream in a sea of booze. You lose the 15 pounds you put on, start focusing more on your career trajectory and feel confident about the upward direction you’re heading. Maybe you even start trying to date again in an effort to create some sort of normalcy in your personal life outside of work. But after you’ve been turned down 3 times in a row by 3 different guys via radio silence after inviting them to a UFC fight or out for a drink, you start to realize that it’s obvious why you feel so lonely and no one is able to find companionship here. You have to wonder, is it you? But before you start feeling too sorry for yourself, you're given some very valuable advice: It’s not you, it’s where you are.

A lightbulb goes off. You realize that sentence applies to more than just your love life. Maybe you’re not the common denominator here. Maybe Vegas is the common denominator. Maybe you’re the only normal thing about this city, and you don’t even realize it because you’re consumed by the unrealistic situation you're in. “Normal” in Vegas isn’t “normal” anywhere else in the world. It's entirely possible that everyone you’ve met has a glittery blindfold on, preventing them from wanting any sort of real, emotional connection with another human being (and you're pretty sure that anyone who says they don't want that is either lying or lives in Las Vegas). But not you; you've already outgrown that phase of your Vegas residency. It makes you wonder, maybe if you moved to a different city without all the showgirls, bright lights, and $50 cover charges things would be different; "real life" could actually start. Maybe Vegas is just a catalyst into the next phase of your life where things will start to level out. There’s no denying it’s been good to you though; you started your career here, inherited some of the best friends the universe could have possibly picked out for you, and grew into your awkward 20-something phase of life. Even though at times it feels like your career path is at a peak and your love life is a vast empty valley, deep down you love it here and your (nearly) 25-year-old-self wouldn’t trade it for anywhere else.

But you can’t help but start to wonder, what comes next? If you’ve got the job, the friends, the apartment, and the family near by, what is it that's missing? Why aren’t you the happiest you could be? You already know the answer but you’re too lonely to even admit it out loud. There's a missing piece of the puzzle that you’re confident won’t be found under current circumstances. Unfortunately you know that might mean eventually having to start the entire puzzle over from scratch. Then all at once you realize what’s missing. It's not another person, it's a decision, and one you're not quite ready to make. 

You sometimes feel discouraged, but deep down you still believe in this city because you’ve seen what she's capable of. You're not ready to give up on her just yet. You know it’s a gamble, but the perfect hand will be dealt in due time, right? So until then, you keep your fingers crossed, continue to roll the dice, and each night you say the old Vegas prayer, "luck, be a lady tonight." 

Then you stop and remind yourself: you own your happiness, not anyone else. And you keep pushing forward towards the life you've always wanted. Wherever that is, is still TBD.

I'd rather be Single In Sin City.

Airplane therapy: My view of Sin City as I wrote this post.

Have you ever been on a date that just went horribly wrong from the second it started? See, I pretty much knew I wasn't into it from the beginning but I reluctantly said yes to this second outing because I have the hardest time saying no, which is a terrible habit and an even worse quality that I possess (I’m trying to work on it, I swear). But I'm pretty positive he will never read this, so I’m leveraging the experience as inspiration for a little soul-searching, like all good writers do.

He started out by asking me about my job and what exactly I do. He asked what I WANT to do and what my end game is. I started telling him about my work in Social Media and that eventually I want to be a published author that pens a book of short, funny, and heartfelt memoirs á la Mindy Kaling's "Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns)." This somehow segued into telling him about my blog, which segued into how I would post about my blog on Twitter, which segued into a general conversation about Social Media, which ended up turning into a one-sided discussion about how Social Media is a joke. Now, I want to be a writer, but that doesn't mean I don't love working in Social Media. It's my career choice. It's what I'm passionate about and I'm good at it. I spent tens of thousands of dollars going to school for it and I now have almost 2 years of experience under my belt which is a really long time in social years, considering the field is less than 10 years old. Most importantly, I'm happy and proud of where I'm at.

So when you try to have a conversation with me about how you think Social Media is stupid, I start to tune you out. My eyes glaze over. I can no longer respect your opinion or care what you have to say on the subject. Is that harsh? Maybe, but in this situation you're showing me that you clearly don't understand what I've dedicated my professional life to, and more importantly you don't have enough common decency to shut your mouth about a topic that is very obviously near and dear to me. I don't start spewing off about how I think YOUR job is bullshit, or how I think YOUR career choice is stupid. If I even HAVE any opinions about your life choices at all I would keep them to myself or at least act interested in learning more. So if you’re on a date with someone, why would you EVEN go there? At this point all I can do is look at him with a fake smile and count down the seconds until he takes me home because we are CLEARLY incompatible. 

My future significant other will LOVE what I do, because I love what I do. He will respect the 60+ hour work-weeks I sometimes have to put in to get everything done. He will be proud of me for getting a degree in a field I'm passionate about and using that degree in my every day life. He will try to understand what I do without passing judgments or disagreeing with me before knowing anything about it. He will not talk to me as if he's the one enlightening me about my own career field. He will ask me questions about work like, “How do you come up with such amazing and innovative ideas for this brand you know inside and out?" He will be impressed by things like the fact that I know how to create a Facebook App or analyze social data for a global brand.

He will ask if he can read my blog because he wants to know what kind of a writer I am, my style, my tone, my voice. He will think I have just the sexiest mind. He won't tell me I should really consider having two Twitter accounts, one for personal and one for business so that business associates don't have access to my writing, no matter how proud I am of the honest and heartfelt words I've allowed to pour out of my soul. He won't tell me that I was born in a generation where everyone, including me, feels entitled to a voice online, when in reality, no one (least of all, him) cares what I have to say. He will respect my mind and my voice and encourage me to never stop writing or sharing it with the world. He will ask to read everything I write before anyone else does because he wants to be the first to experience what's been building up in my soul. He'll want to know me inside and out, and he'll know that the quickest way to get there is through my writing.

And on that note, I will LOVE what he does, because he loves it. And if he doesn't love what he does, I will support him while he finds out what makes him happy. I will try to understand what makes him tick and I will encourage him to follow that spark until he finds the right fit for him. I will stay up late with him reading his work, brainstorming ideas, offering advice or words of support - even if I don't know what I'm talking about - just to try and help him. I will never put down what he loves, make him feel like his job is inadequate, or pretend I have an expert opinion on his field. I will spend hours listening to him vent about the things he hates, or praise the things he loves. I will celebrate with him when he has a great day at work, and I will comfort him when he has a terrible day. But I will never act like what he does isn't important, because I know that it is to him.

Unfortunately it looks like I'm still investing my time in the wrong people. But truthfully? I'd rather be Single in Sin City.

Forget how much it hurts and try again.

The above photo was taken about 2 years ago in LA by my best friend, Cory. I had just experienced a really bad heartbreak, so I ran away to LA for a week for a much needed best friend cleanse and some fresh perspective on life. Nothing soothes the soul quite like a week of cuddling with your bestie, a trip to Disneyland, and many late nights drinking wine and eating Thai take-out in bed talking about how scary, heartbreaking, and intense life can sometimes be. 

As we were casually walking down the street one night on our way home from a bar, I saw this note painted on the side of a cement wall. It was this big, blunt cinder block in the middle of the sidewalk on a busy LA street, staring me straight in the face. If that's not a sign from the universe after a blow to my heart then I don't know what is. The forces that be spared no subtlety, just threw this giant message right up in my grill to tell me "hey, you're going to be ok."

I look at this picture and I'm glad to say I hardly remember that girl anymore. On the inside she was so unbelievably distraught that she had to flee to her best friend's side before she had a nervous breakdown. She cried the entire 4 hour drive from Vegas to LA while sitting in solitude with nothing but her own thoughts and demons in the car with her. She couldn't feel anything past the vomit anxiously rising in her stomach when her head wouldn't stop spinning with unfathomable thoughts. That girl, though put together on the outside, was in shambles.

The good news? She made it through, and she emerged from the other side a better person.

We all have a past, and we all have the scars to prove it. We've all been hurt in some way or another, whether big or small. I've been hurt in much smaller ways pretty recently - when someone doesn't call me after a great date or a guy I thought I kind of liked makes me feel worthless after running into him at a bar. Those people will end up being small blips on my life's radar, yet I can still feel the slight sting in my heart, reminiscent of the burn you feel when you let your guard down and it all comes crashing down on top of you. This message from the universe is begging me to forget about it all and keep trying. Don't give up just because it can hurt so badly sometimes. Yes, it absolutely sucks when you feel a connection with someone and they don't feel the same way. It really sucks when you give someone a piece of you and they don't appreciate it (or worse, abuse it). And it REALLY freaking sucks when you love someone with your whole heart and they just don't love you back.

But do you give up because that someone you're interested in never called again? Do you give up because the guy that took you home with him wasn't actually interested in dating you? Do you stop trying because you just cannot possibly handle one more awful date? Do you swear off all men because one guy turned out to be a serial killer? (Ok, so maybe some of these things haven't exactly happened to me yet....) The universe is shouting "NO!" So you keep trying. You keep pushing on. You continue to get your heart broken because you would rather get your heart broken 1,000 times than miss out on the first time you lock eyes with your soulmate. You know deep down that in the end it will all make sense someday and you will feel a great sense of relief when you're tucked in bed one night laying next to the one you're meant to spend forever with. And all the ones who rejected you, hurt you, made you cry, question yourself, or feel even the slightest bit of doubt will never take up space in your mind again. You will be happy.

Forget how much it hurts, and try again.

Sometimes I wish I lived in the city.

You know, like New York City or LA. Somewhere in the heart of the bustling crowds where everyone walks and everything is local (I think I've officially decided I'm a city girl).

But then I look up and I'm shocked to realize - I do live in what I just described. I'm living downtown in a big city where there's bustling crowds and everyone walks and everything is local. In fact, this is my current view, right this second as I write this:

But what's even more awesome about where I live is that it's constantly buzzing with new excitement. Everyday a new business opens or a new restaurant begins construction. This is a big deal for a city that's widely viewed as "depressed" and in dire need of revitalization. There's so many big things happening in downtown Las Vegas and it's fun to watch and be a part of. I get to experience it all as it's happening, living right in the heart of it. Like today, I went to the grand opening of another brand new restaurant in town. How cool will it be to look back in 20 years to see how this city has changed and grown, and how all the "new" restaurants have become local gems over time. I'll get to look back and say, "I was there when..."

Sometimes I think I take the little things like this for granted because I get wrapped up in personal issues or work stress or wondering if I'll ever date again. But it's pretty incredible when I finally take a minute to stop and take a look around me. I'm lucky to be where I am at this point in my life. I don't know how I managed to get here, but I'm grateful that I did.

Changes.

Lots of things have been happening in my life. And I don't mean the typical roller coaster of ups and downs that I typically experience in any given month. But I realize I haven't documented any of this and I'm not quite sure why, to be honest. Maybe I've been busy or just haven't thought about it? There's no real reason, it just is what it is. But I'm here now and I have the urge to let the old fingers flow so let's talk about the last couple months, shall we?

First of all, January was kind of the same bust it usually is. Blah, blah, blah, I hate winter, yadda yadda yadda, I had to drop $1,000 on my car, shmee shmee shmee. It actually was much better than previous January's have been, though. If you've been around long enough, you've probably heard me at LEAST once refer to the epic (and inevitable) "January 2nd Meltdown" I face each year. You know, the one where I've just come off another New Years Eve spent on the couch with my mom watching Grey's Anatomy DVD's and then reevaluate every single one of my past life decisions that have led me to this point. It's really unnecessary, but again happens every year. January 2nd. Without fail.

This year, I braced myself for it, knowing full well it was coming. But it didn't come. New Year's eve was the most fun I've probably ever spent ringing in a new year and January 2nd came and left without a single tear or a single "WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE" thought. And I didn't even notice (in a good way). It actually felt great when I realized mid-January that I skipped over that annual event, and I think I know why it didn't happen: I'm happy. For once, the bleak mid-winter has not brought me down into a cold, freezing hole of dramatic reflection, and thank the lord. For once I got to enjoy January without the fear of spending the first half of the year bored and cold and sad. Vegas, you've already won me over for 2013.

And it helped that I had a LOT to look forward to in January. For starters, I was getting ready to finally move out of my parents house. Look people, this was a really big deal for me. I realize that pretty much everyone (except the really, really lucky few) have to move back in with their parents after college. I was fine with it. I like my parents and I'm kind of a homebody, so I was fine. But after a while I got a little self-conscious telling people I still lived with mommy and daddy. Not that anyone ever made me feel that way or called me out on it, but I was just so ready to start being independent and take the next big step forward in my life, and that all started with moving out.

So come February 1st, that's exactly what I did. I moved to Downtown Las Vegas with a friend and co-worker, Leah. We live about a 10 minute walk from work, right in the heart of Downtown. We get to be where the action is and no longer have to drive the dreaded 15 minute commute back to Summerlin on Friday nights when all we want to do is have a drink after a long week at work. Score.

We owe a huge thanks to both of our parents and our co-workers (and new Downtown neighbors) Julie & TJ for helping us get moved in. With their help, the process was expedited and we were in our new place in no time. And now, here we are, enjoying every second of our chic new living space (that actually turned out to be more spacious than we were anticipating). It's been a perfect fit so far and both Leah and I are thrilled to be settled into our Downtown digs.

Shortly after moving we took a little (working) trip to LA (again, if you know me at all you know I love me some la la land - 8 trips last year, what what??) to see Ellie Goulding perform at the Palladium. I got to spend some time with Cory and see one of my favorite artists live which was pretty amazing. Working from LA was a little bit more stressful than I anticipated though - sadly, my true colors were exposed while stuck in a horrendous wifi situation and everyone around me saw the rage that ensues when I don't have working internet. Oops. Trying to just own it as a Chelsea-flaw, but shit, I need to work on my anger sometimes (another story for another blog post).

Anyways, I'm happily back in Vegas now, skipped over Valentine's Day again, and have a terrible cold at the moment, but life is good. I'm happy and taking care of business. This year is already bringing about so many awesome opportunities in all different areas of my life and I couldn't be more excited to just live in the moment and enjoy things as they happen. Life's good.