I'm leaving on a Jet Plane...

So tomorrow we leave for the Big Apple. 4 days of fun, frolicking, booze, and women....oh wait, that's the Boss's trip....

So here's the plan so far: Leave tomorrow a.m. at the butt-crack of dawn. Yeah. We have to be at the Commune in Grapevine by 7 so that a) my sister can take my car to work and b) we'll be there when the shuttle arrives. Why is my sister taking my car to work? Well, because her car is a heap of...well, we'll just call it a heap, and in the spring she'll be replacing it. She thinks with a car like mine. So while we're gone she'll be test driving mine. She has two rules: I want gas in it when I get back and I want no trash left in it. I took out all of my cds because she has a habit of "borrowing" them and then misplacing them. Not Cool. I might slide in a copy of my Lilly Allen, though, because I bought it on itunes and can always burn another.

Saturday we'll be laying about the hotel rooms - maybe a trip up to the Hamptons where I'll don a snooty accent and pretend that I hate everything. (pretend...?) Followed by MASS (at which I'll be struck by lightening. If this happens, know that I love you. And there's no more pot hidden in my house. You could look, but it would be fruitless. Unless you have a thing for catnip.) Mass is followed by fancy dinner celebrating the 65th wedding anniversary of the grandparents-in-law. Awesome. If we hit 65 then I'll be 102. I'd like to think I'll live that long. If I don't get struck down upon entering the church, that is.

Sunday we're having drunken brunch (well, I'm having sober brunch) and meandering about the city with R and E, who live in Jersey now. Steve lost his sunglasses, so we'll probably replace them with some street-bought Farmanis or Prados or something. I also wouldn't mind a Shermes Birkin...if we happen to run across one. I'd take a Kelly if I needed to.

Monday we fly back and come home to some snotty cats who will ignore us for a day just out of spite.

Whining: My scrapbook store is closing! Recollections. Because some Canadians bought Michaels and are utterly clueless. I'm going to write an angry letter. I enjoy the scrapbook store. And I *hate* Michaels. There aren't words for how much I will not be patronizing a michaels just because they shut down their specialty store. blargh.

Question: is it wrong of me to be vaguely relieved that I didn't get knocked up this year? As odds go I would have had a boy (most of the pregnant people I know are having/have recently had boys - with a couple of girls thrown in. Speaking with friends I know that this is fairly widespread...) I'm partial to girls, though. Hey- if I wait a couple of year we can the in-vitro where you pick the gender. Gattica, here I come!

Ok...I really should be packing. Motivation, please...?

Also - I have this song in my head. So I found the video. I love the song - and I'm totally digging the Fosse Dance Breaks. Makes me want to dance. Wonder if I'm cleared for that....?