Flashback: Vegas

I really settled down in Vegas.  It sounds like an oxymoron, but I think it's true.
I enjoyed going out to eat with my friends, trying new places, and going to events.
Dallas is different.  It's fun, but I'm finding it hard to get used to.  The girls are cuter, and more fun in college, but the atmosphere is hard to come by.
I'm back on the strip when I close my eyes.  The smell of shrimp and exhaust- a sea of people around me yelling and honking.  The Bellagio fountains shooting thousands of gallons of water 100 yards into the air- Shania Twain blasting over the pool.  I miss hot nights drinking yard-long margaritas.  I miss salsa dancing, capoeira, and breakdance.  I miss the distinct smells of different hotel lobbies.  I miss going out after work to celebrate jobs well done.  I miss camping in Utah, hiking Mt. Charleston, and driving the twisty roads of Lake Meade.
Everyone here seems to have the right mentality- girls, cheap beer and loud music.  The formula is there.  It just doesn't seem to be correctly solving my set of parameters.
I long for road-trips to California, bars with pianos, hanging with friends on the beach, or tearing down the slopes of some Sierra mountain.
I had this realization today as I ate a burger and drank a beer at the local Buffalo Wild Wings alone- watching some football game I had no interest in... It was Utah Vs. Colorado State, I think.  The Utah place kicker was called out with seconds left in the 4th to tie up the game.  He shanked the kick right of the posts.  The other team began celebrating.  He threw down his helmet on the sideline and walked by himself behind his team mates.
The camera shot over towards the winning team... and back to him.
Smiles and high fives on the other side... a frown; detachment. 
Joy and accomplishment in white and gold... disbelief and frustration sweating from his furrowed brow, down his neck, and into his red, jersey covered, shoulderpads.
All alone, to take on the responsibility for the outcome of the game.  Receding to the locker room by himself.
I've got friends and brothers here.  We've struggled together, had fun, taken care of business, and spent a lot of time together.  We've got good stories of our own.  Still, we aren't living and breathing the same air.  At the end of the day, I'm that place kicker.  It's all up to me.
The bond is there.  I'd do anything for them and they'd do anything for me... I just don't quite relate to any other one completely.  Not yet, at least.
School life is a steady stream of academics and socializing.  I don't go home, hang up my uniform and separate my lives like I did in the Air Force.  There is a huge gray area in which personal choices are made.  Throw a job in there, and priorities get really discombobulated.
In Vegas, I had it figured out like a game of black jack... it was a system.
Wake up, go to work, come home, play.
Dealer shows six.  Stay no matter what.  Dealer shows five.  Hit no matter what. 
Although I'm not winning every hand, I know I'll come out on top in the end.  If the academics are taken care of, it's a whole lot easier to relax and enjoy other aspects of life.