What? It's Monday?

Um. When did it become Monday? Because I just got comfortable with it being the weekend.

This week involves such things as:

PREPARING FOR THE UPCOMING BACHELORETTE WEEKEND IN NORTH CAROLINA

Oh? Do you need more information to adequately understand my stress levels? Because that would involve a lot of screaming and garment rending that I just don't think I can properly describe over my blog. Let's just say that I have a paper bag at ready should anything go awry and I feel the need to hyperventilate. That and tequila, which I feel Rod should know he's allowed to pour in copious amounts in case I start speaking in tongues come Thursday when we meet up at the airport. We have a lay over in Vegas which will only work in his favor as I expect the first leg of the trip I'll be speaking in ALL CAPS ABOUT HOW MUCH I NEED THIS TIME ON THE BEACH. For the rest of you, that means that anything I post up until Tuesday of next week might have a shade of incoherency about it which you ought to just meet with shades of sympathy or perhaps gifts of alcohol. Or just kick me in the shins. That usually brings me back to reality.

Either way! Good times! I'm spending the early part of this week looking for Polaroid film and my sanity which I think fell behind the couch this weekend while I was watching St. Elmo's Fire for the first time on Saturday. Can you believe I made it to 33 without ever having seen this cinematic masterpiece? To give you some perspective, I just saw Dirty Dancing for the first time last year and now every time we're in a remote situation I keep waiting for a hot blond in a leotard and skirt to waltz in and hit me up for an abortion. Because that's what happens, right? Sweet Moses...what were these 80's film makers aiming for? I either have Demi Moore shoving Rob Lowe aside in some ill-advised narcissistic moment or Jennifer Gray making up for her nose by rubbing crotches with Patrick Swayze (God rest his soul). Regardless, everyone is self centered and obnoxious and I left both movies with a feeling that I would never get those hour back in my life. AND IF ROB LOWE IS OFFERING HIMSELF TO YOU, YOU NEVER SAY NO.

Ok. Off to bed. Speaking of ill-advised, I might feel that way about this post in the morning. There may or may NOT have been some glasses of wine involved. Either way, welcome to a new week.