The weirdest part about being in Las Vegas for Christmas is, well, everything.

Even though I’ve really been enjoying my time here lately, there is just something really really strange about being in Sin City over the holidays. It’s a town where everything feel slightly manufactured and Xmas is the ultimate example of that. Sure, there is snow at Town Square (when they decide to make it, that is) and an ice skating rink at the Cosmo. And while I appreciate the effort, it just feels wrong.

I tried really hard to get into the holiday spirit this year – I even bought a Xmas tree and set it up (with lights and ornaments!) in my apartment. Which everyone knows is a huge deal for me considering I am not the sentimental type.

And while I wasn’t able to make it back to NYC for the holidays – with NYE just a week away, there was no chance of me leaving town and being relaxed with all of the insanity of next weekend – I was psyched that my mom came out to visit, which I thought would make things feel a bit more festive. It didn’t.

We did everything possible to feel Christmas-y: the Bellagio tree, a showing of The Nutcracker (my favorite from when I was a kid) and even lots of last-minute holiday shopping with the masses. Still, nothing.

Last year, I spent Xmas Eve at The Spotted Pig with mulled wine, gnudi, two of my favorite people and the smell of bitter cold in the air. Every New Yorker knows that smell: it’s almost a little smokey and is just so distinct. Ah. We ran into a few more people we knew and it felt like our own little private holiday party. I stumbled home late, down the tree-lined streets of the West Village with a smile on my face, even though the holidays weren’t the easiest for me last year.

And while it is just as cold here in Las Vegas (FACT) and way windier, the air still doesn’t have the same wintery feel. I mean, there are PALM TREES! And stale casino air.

But I’m not mad at Vegas for it – it just is what it is. So I decided to stop trying so hard and just accept things for what they are.

Instead of a traditional Christmas Day celebration, my mom and I had breakfast at the Bagel Cafe (thanks to the Jews for being open!) and then went out to The Valley of Fire for a scenic drive. It was stunning and a great experience, even if there was nothing about it to get me into the spirit.

Alas, I am so grateful for everything in my life and have never been one to care that much about holidays anyway. Plus, there’s always next year… at The Pig, of course.