Spring Break OH 4!

"We don't know about the future, all we know is what we have right now... tickets to Vegas and money to buy booze," my friend Ali said before the six of us embarked on our spring break adventure.

It wasn't your typical spring break, but there was something for everyone: three "Wild on E!"-style nights on the Las Vegas strip, three relaxing days at an AZ resort, and a hike into the Grand Canyon -- all connected with a road trip via family mini-van.

Las Vegas really is Sin City -- like a Disney World for adults. The bright lights and big, glitzy casinos are just like in the movies, and it's true, the prostitute advertisement cards are everywhere. (Ick.) There are no open container laws in Vegas, so you can see tourists boozin' on the street by 4 p.m. and liquor is sold right next to cheesy souvenirs.

In line with the Disney metaphor, there are some crazy characters in Vegas - just imagine Mickey intoxicated. We met brides, a fake Elvis, little people, ruckus-raising bachelorettes, college kids (mostly from California and supposedly the quarterback from Washington State), tons and tons of tourists, and of course, the old biddies who rule the town. A classic example: at a 2 a.m. nacho break at The Garden Caf‚ in Harrah's, where we were surrounded by the gray-haired set, the lady sitting next to us had a prayer card in one hand and a Keno gambling card in the other.

We stayed at two hotel-casinos with very different scenes, the New Frontier and Tropicana. The New Frontier can be characterized by two things: the large number of people sporting mullets and Wednesday's bikini-mud wrestling night (we did not attend.) There were some college coeds at the wild-west themed hotel, including another bunch from Tufts, but not many. Needless to say, we took our $1.99 margarita specials to go. The Tropicana, our second hotel at the end of the week, wasn't exactly Mandalay Bay, but the pool was awesome and full of spring breakers.

As far as spring break partying, Vegas isn't exactly wet t-shirt contest central, but there are several classy bars and clubs. They seem pretty strict on IDs, so only expect the 21 and over crowd. It's great being a girl in this town because while it's mad expensive to do anything -- gambling, clubbing, barhopping -- female-friendly discounts are plentiful, thank goodness. (There is up to a $20 difference in club cover charges for guys.)

Drink specials are the way to go since casino drinks are expensive, if you can even get the attention of the snobbish bartenders (that is, unless you're baller enough to be served comp drinks at the betting tables. Clearly, I stick to slot machines.) Our fave drink spot was La Salsa Cantina, which has a location on the strip and in the Luxor hotel. There, they serve margaritas by the yard in oh-so-spring-break long plastic glasses, an excellent trophy souvenir.

There are a number of things to do on the strip besides drinking and gambling, including extravagant shows, from the family appropriate Cirque du Soleil to the more raunchy male strip show, The Thunder Down Under (we were tempted by the hot Aussies, but didn't go), art exhibits for the cultured (there is one at the Venetian), and all-you-can eat buffets (we went to the one at Excalibur, which was pretty much a glorified Dewick.)

Our last night on spring break was what my roommate calls "a true Vegas night." After arriving late to Vegas from our jaunt into AZ (which included a Grand Canyon hike that day and a terrifying drive across the Hoover Dam on an empty tank), we rallied. We headed to Studio 54 at the MGM Grand, where the cover was free for ladies. The remake of the infamous NYC dance club had just as long lines as in its 1970s heyday. We met a couple of fellas who got us into the VIP line and proceeded to wait.

What happened next might as well have come out of a movie. Two midgets in club attire came up to my friend Ali and said, "Hey, if you and your friends give us $20 each, we can get you into the club now. Just go up to the bouncer and tell him Shorty sent you." No joke. We sent some people to check with the bouncer while we held our place in line. The little dude was not legit.

However, a legit Las Vegas local named Derek came to the rescue with VIP passes. Upstairs in the VIP lounge, we enjoyed the view of the dancing masses below while dancers performing acrobatics from swings hung from the ceiling. We racked up quite a bill on cocktails until military men who could've been in Top Gun sent some our way. We came home totally satisfied with the evening at 5:30 a.m., and Studio 54 was still kickin' it even as we left. (The only drawback was the one stall woman's bathroom in the gigantic place. Who's the moron engineer who designed that?)

By the end of our red eye flight back home to Tufts, I had lost my voice, but earned $8 in quarters (score for laundry!), a tan, crazy fun memories with the best of friends... and that's all I can really say, because whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.