This one time in Vegas.

My husband went out of town a couple of weeks ago. I was going to go, but being the “responsible” adult I am, I couldn’t. Because I had summer school. And since I was taking 2 six-week courses, it just seemed ridiculous to miss a full week, plus…they weren’t giving any make up tests, blah blah blah…so I couldn’t go.

So instead of taking off a full week, I took Friday and Monday off. I didn’t have any plans except you know…not being at work. My consolation prize for not being able to go with The Man. Imagine my surprise when my co-worker (who is probably the only person who spends more time in Vegas than I do) got a 2-night free room offer at The Luxor (I puffy heart The Luxor. They make me poop rainbows). So I call my prima and tell her guess who’s going on a road trip? WE are! Yay!

Friday and Saturday night? Or Saturday/Sunday night? Easy choice. Prima has to work Sunday night and I want to recouperate/sleep in Monday, so we will take Friday/Saturday. Also making this an easy decision? Ditch Fridays at the Palms. The last time I was in Vegas, I went to the club and some dude hooked me up with VIP passes for the price of my a/s/l and e-mail. EVERY FRIDAY since then I’ve been getting e-mails about ditching work and going to the Palms Pool Party. So, since I’m off Friday AND I’m going to Vegas, Pool party it is.

Got to the Palms in the afternoon. I was ready in my lovely bathing suit. See? I even had my "I'm so sexy" pose. 'Cause I am. So sexy. No, really.

This guy was 6'10. If you were on twitter that weekend, then you already saw this picture. OMG. Me, the woman who is deathly afraid of any man over 6'3 was there for the NBA Summer League Weekend. So practically every man there was of GIANT proportion... in HEIGHT. That there's my Prima who IS not afriad of Goliath and so took this picture, while I stood away....FAR away.

(I won't even make mention of the guy who I totally ran away from because he was 7 feet tall and headed right for me. On purpose because some jerk told him of my freaky fear. I was drunk... usually I do a much better job of hiding my crazy)

Next stop? Tacos & Tequila. I love this place. And now, with photo booth! After that (and a few jello shots at the bar), we ran over to the Outlet for some baby clothes. Prima's going to a baby shower, so off to the Carter's outlet we go. F your I... DON'T, for the love of God, watch anybody else shop for baby clothes. Because then you start remembering your precious baby girl and all the cute clothes she had and OMG they had tights with the ruffled butt and HOW ON EARTH are you supposed to resist that?! And then YOUR uterus starts contracting and you start wishing for babies, with their chubby cheeks and new baby smell. But then you remember you can't drink and party in Vegas when you're pregnant, and you snap out of it, but you STILL end up spending too much money because everything was just so damn cute.

AND? Why did the clerk send us over to the Coach Outlet? Did you guess before she hates us? I did. Because we went over and I fell in love with these:

That green one, bottom right? I want. Dammit. I didn't get it THIS TIME, but I'm going back and next time, it's coming home with me.

Last thing on the schedule LAX in Las Vegas, located conveniently located in our hotel, so that we could stumble back to our room several hours after we'd planned to so we could leave early...which, we didn't. In between the drinking and flirting with cute boys, we saw

The Dan Band. Apparently they were playing that weekend at LAX. Even when I'm not expecting concerts, I get concerts. Go figure. I also got a little wet. Somebody was making it sprinkle in the club*.

Oh, and Vegas? I'll be back next month. I'm bringing my girls and meeting up with the undomestic diva and maybe miss. So be ready. 'Cause y'all have that fountain in front of Paris and if she'll jump into the Married with Children fountain, she's definitely not scared of you teeny little fountain. Or jail, apparently. So get ready.

*Throwing $1 bills from the 2nd floor, is NOT rain, that's more like a light drizzle. Rain is heavy. Say... $5 or $10 heavy. Just sayin'.