Ugh.

Whether it was an intestinal bug or food poisoning (in the end, does it really matter?) the timing couldn’t have been worse. From Wednesday afternoon through the better part of yesterday my body didn’t give me a break, and as a result, my annual Goodboys-meet-Vegas weekend turned out to be a fairly lost one indeed. Now seven pounds lighter than I was at this same moment last week, there aren’t really a boatload of great memories I’ll be able to take away from last weekend. Oh sure, it was great to see my pals enjoy a nice respite from their typical (for this winter) Ice Station Zebra existence. And the Wynn was, once again, a fabulous place to spend time in. We spent a lovely Saturday night at the Parasol Down‘s outside bar beside the Lake of Dreams (nice no matter how crummy you feel!), I had a luxurious long nap in the Wynn’s spa, the Wynn Golf Club lived up to all expectations (even though attempting to play any decent golf with shaky hands and rubbery legs was pretty futile), and the food (or lack thereof) and the gorgeous servers at La Cave were a delight. It’s just too bad I couldn’t have enjoyed them all to a fuller extent.

And that’s really about all I was up for (and I mean that literally). No cocktails and lunch at Jimmy Buffett’s Margaritaville. No dinner at Wynn’s SW Steakhouse, no crazy fun and frolicking like teenagers let out of school early. I had a nice room with a comfortable bed and a luxurious nearby bathroom. And for this year that had to be good enough.

Like they say, timing is everything. Better luck next time.