ME! (and Barry)

Vegas Day One: we run into some lovely glamour kittens before we've even checked in and i predict its not going to let up until the last glamour kitten has checked out. How delightful to jet to Vegas, bump into someone you know and enjoy a bloody mary or two in the sunshine. good times.

We have booked a GO room at the flamingo - they are the retro sixties rooms with our own hot pink elevator, white wet look vinyl bedhead and hot pink striped wallpaper - heaven! Not to mention the TV imbedded into the mirror in the bathroom, and the spectacular view we have looking onto the strip and straight across to ceasars palace. pinch me!

The self glamorisation process takes place, and we are off to meet the glamour kittens in the bar (yikes there seems to be a lot of them), and then to PARIS to see fabulous BARRY MANILOW!!!!!!! (that's him trying to squeeze into my picture above - (quit it bad smell manilow)

About 12 of us somehow have AMAZING third row seats, with the rest of the glamour kitens a little further back. Let me state here and now, that i am NEVER doing a show again unless glowstix are included! best. fun. ever.

Barry does know how to put on a show - travelling through Barry time from early childhood with lots of pics and filmclips on the big screen. The Christmas part of the show features snow coming from the rooftop and las vegas school kiddies pulling at every heartstring.

Barry has several sparkly costume changes and one awkward wet look vinyl bikie costume that needs to go away.

His face and hair are a VISION, but his legs look like two whittled sticks and he walks ike a man who has had seven hip replacements.

But who cares!? we have glowstix and a big copa cabana finale coming up, so it is the best. night. ever., and a FABULOUS way to start the kittens in vegas week.

We are on a fanilow fever HIGH when the show lets out, and feeling the desperation of a group who knows their glowstix will go dark in but a few hours, we head to the PARIS disco bar, where DJ Sally plays Dancing Queen, ensuring our loyalty for the rest of the night, despite loads of older men doing the straight mans overbite dance accompanied by far too affectionate and far too intrigued under-dressed ladies grinding on their older gentleman to the tune of "my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard" - ewwwwwwwwwwwww - hilarious just turned kreepy, and as Mr Eric orders a giant cigar from a girl in sequinned underpants, I feel it is time for me to leave, and head back to the sixties glamour room for a fizzy drink and some TV in bed - oh mandy, those are some good times.