In which I’ll be in Vegas in twenty-four hours!

I’m certain I’m over-packing because it’s in the 70’s here. It’ll be in the 90’s in Vegas; of course we’ll probably spend a lot of time indoors and that’ll be air-conditioned, but I brought pants and long-sleeved shirts and in spite of the sun dresses I packed will probably end up buying a tank top somewhere anyway.

All of my shoes suck. I am so serious. I don’t own even a single pair of cute shoes. I might have to fix that in Vegas. Since I don’t really gamble I’ll need to blow my cash somehow. Wouldn’t want to come home with money, now would I?

Facebook fucking rules. Through it, I got Adam and Mona’s numbers – even texted with them both last night! – and Mr. Appel’s as well, and will hopefully be seeing some of the old Fairfield contingent during my stay there.

Monday is my 40th birthday. My life will be roughly half over, but I expect to be having an auspiciously hella good time when that little landmark is passed. (Teh BF says he bought me a present, but won’t tell me what it is and says I can’t have it ’til we get back.) I want to go out for sushi. Yum, sushi!

We’ll be packing my laptop along, so there will be updates on both our sites; hopefully the trip doesn’t finish loosening the panel ribbon from the motherboard and find me hauling around a useless bit of electronics. Even if the worst happens there’s Twitter and Flickr so you’ll know where I am.

I am so excited I could freakin’ pop, I tell you! Whoohoo! Vegas!