You know when you walk into a ‘beyond perfect’ hotel room, and for a second the following thoughts rush through your head…
“I wonder if they’d let me live here, for like forever?”
“If my soulmate wasn’t already standing next to me in human form, I’m be pretty sure this hotel room is it”
“Let’s sack off all our activities and plans and just stay in the room ALL WEEK!”
“I wonder if they’d notice is a took a pillow / decorative item / dressing gown home with me?”
That’s the kind of effect staying at The Cosmopolitan in Las Vegas has on you.
At first it’s lust. And then slowly (but surely) it turns to love. Until your boyfriend has to practically drag you out kicking and screaming on the last day.
Stupidly (and very un-bloggery of me) I only took photos of the suite itself on my phone (so they look a bit crappy) – but I did take some proper photos of the balcony with my legit-fancy-pants camera. And let’s face it the balcony was the best bit anyway…
And a few of the hotel room too – excuse the rubbishness of the photos! 😉