Sunday, June 12, 2005
What Happens in Vegas...
Is something I may never know. My husband is there this weekend with a big group of guys for a bachelor party. Nifty! Just where you want your husband to be when you're forty pounds overweight with a new baby at home. But someone asked me "how did you let him get away with that"? Short answer: if I were him, I'd be there too. We both maintain independent active social lives, so if my girls were going, I'd be there. He keeps calling me, though. On one hand, that's nice, but on the other hand, I told him his friends were going to think he was whipped. He actually said "It'd be more fun if you were here" to which I replied "but you can't pick up chicks when I'm around". Ha, ha. Plus, if he were going with me, I doubt he would have tanned for two weeks prior to departure. Humph. It does sound like they are more or less behaving themselves.
I was "lucky" enough to put my degree in Public Relations to work for my husband and his friends, though. He was worried (excessively) that no hot club in Vegas would admit a group of eight guys, so I came up with a brilliant plan for him. I suggested he call each club they are interested in, and attempt to get on the VIP lists. Fortunately for him, his job has a fairly high profile "title", so I told him the exact wording to use to insure the red-carpet treatment. Every single place he called put them on "the list", many with the VIP status, which included free cover (A $20 value!) To blow them off would have made the club managers look like total jackasses. So I garnered many accolades for my contribution. Wahoo. He had the nerve to tell me on the phone today what a GREAT tan he managed to get without ever burning! "Good for you...must be nice". How ELSE do you respond to that? I've been toiling with the other white-meats all weekend long. "Come to class tonight...it'll be a GREAT one", e-mails my trainer. Yeah, not so much. I'm a prisoner in my own home this weekend with my little gifts from God. No exercise for me! (Like it matters). Anyway, my "revenge" will hopefully be some type of spa destination trip in the late fall. I'll try to persuade my sister & some friends into going with me. Ahhhh. Spaaaa. And what happens at the spa....ahhh, hell. It's just not the same is it?
(on a side note, my spell-checker wanted to replace "jackasses" with "Chickasaws", whatever the hell that is...)
Is something I may never know. My husband is there this weekend with a big group of guys for a bachelor party. Nifty! Just where you want your husband to be when you're forty pounds overweight with a new baby at home. But someone asked me "how did you let him get away with that"? Short answer: if I were him, I'd be there too. We both maintain independent active social lives, so if my girls were going, I'd be there. He keeps calling me, though. On one hand, that's nice, but on the other hand, I told him his friends were going to think he was whipped. He actually said "It'd be more fun if you were here" to which I replied "but you can't pick up chicks when I'm around". Ha, ha. Plus, if he were going with me, I doubt he would have tanned for two weeks prior to departure. Humph. It does sound like they are more or less behaving themselves.
I was "lucky" enough to put my degree in Public Relations to work for my husband and his friends, though. He was worried (excessively) that no hot club in Vegas would admit a group of eight guys, so I came up with a brilliant plan for him. I suggested he call each club they are interested in, and attempt to get on the VIP lists. Fortunately for him, his job has a fairly high profile "title", so I told him the exact wording to use to insure the red-carpet treatment. Every single place he called put them on "the list", many with the VIP status, which included free cover (A $20 value!) To blow them off would have made the club managers look like total jackasses. So I garnered many accolades for my contribution. Wahoo. He had the nerve to tell me on the phone today what a GREAT tan he managed to get without ever burning! "Good for you...must be nice". How ELSE do you respond to that? I've been toiling with the other white-meats all weekend long. "Come to class tonight...it'll be a GREAT one", e-mails my trainer. Yeah, not so much. I'm a prisoner in my own home this weekend with my little gifts from God. No exercise for me! (Like it matters). Anyway, my "revenge" will hopefully be some type of spa destination trip in the late fall. I'll try to persuade my sister & some friends into going with me. Ahhhh. Spaaaa. And what happens at the spa....ahhh, hell. It's just not the same is it?
(on a side note, my spell-checker wanted to replace "jackasses" with "Chickasaws", whatever the hell that is...)
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