Vegas, baby. Vegas.

Brought to you by a man who traveled Europe with only a backpack for 17 days.

This promises to be a heck of a week. Yesterday I took my last final for my MS requirements, and now, officially, if I were to die I would have a MS degree (awarded posthumously, but otherwise bending no requirements).

Tonight (in 30 minutes) I have a grad party, which will be fairly tame, considering it's a bunch of biostatisticians and Caffo is not there.

Tomorrow night, after a day of Body Worlds 2 where I get to see why the Potter put skin on the clay vessels, I will board a plane for Vegas.

I am doing Vegas in 24 hours. Yes, it seems ridiculous, but it is necessary. I do not have much time left before returning to Charm City, yet a visit a to Sin City is necessary to celebrate the ending of a buddy's bachelorhood.

I will become every NASCAR Dad and Soccer Mom's dream. I will travel so light...not "no checking baggage" light or "just my laptop" light.

I will travel "no toiletries, just a wallet, smile, and aviators" light.

I will empty my wallet of the safeway card, sams club card, change, sheepskin con- I don't know what those are mom, and change. I will have 150 dollars cash, credit card, debit card, and I am putting a new set of contacts in the change compartment (it is that time of the month, and it allows me to be free of toiletries, especially toiletries that cause eye-fungus.)

My teeth will not be brushed for 24 hours.
My deordorant will have to last for 24 hours.
My aviator glasses will not have a case for 24 hours.

I also have a red t-shirt that was given to me by my sister. She, being a manager at a certain store, was able to get it dirt cheap. That, and the fact that it was in the bargain bin because it is big enough to fit an elephant as a parachute or clothe the latest flash-in-the-pan rapper.

This shirt has destroyed so many socks and shirts with its bleeding red wash characterisitcs that I have resolved to never wash it again - I will wear it to Vegas over another shirt. Sometime during the night I will leave this shirt on the strip, or take it off to cover up one of the cocktail waitresses to protect the eyes of young and old men alike from lust.

If only I had a million bleeding red shirts to cloak the sin of SIN City!

Some Panera Bread employee just said "I can play this on the piano." I think he is referencing the music that is in the air. He is trying to impress the 17 year old girl who (wo)mans the register. Maybe it would impress her more if he actually knew the name of the piece (Fur Elise). Or maybe it would impress her more if he would stop looking at her like she was a Vegas cocktail waitress.

Any-who.

I'm traveling light, I'm traveling fast.

I touch back down in the Square State at 2:37 AM Sunday. I will sleep all of Sunday, right up to the movie premiere.

I haven't told you of the movie premiere! Oh my titanium balls!

Omura-san convinced everyone to make another movie after The Red King. The Red King was a great first attempt, and the greatest fans of it are none other than my sister and all her friends (apparently, they love the scene where I drop the f-bomb...which is actually Omura-san dropping it, since it sounded like someone saying it for the first time (fyi, it was, like, my fifth time...since I lost my virginity...for the fifth time...to myself)).

Anyway, the movie premiere is finally here. I plan to wear my aviators the whole night to mask the Vegas strips under my eyes and party like a rock-star...a rock-star who lives out of his car.

Print it, Panera!