Yes, I am going to Las Vegas. Sin City, if you will. I did agree to this, but that doesn’t mean I’m not getting cold feet (and sweaty armpits) just thinking about what I’ve gotten myself into. I mean, my bridesmaid who organized all this has been here three times—with her friends, who are sorority sisters from college and continue to call themselves “the Dirty Dozen.” One of them may or may not have paid $150 for a tiny, cursive “DD” tattoo last time they were here and another may or may not have woken up in a strip club with
her childhood blanky wrapped around her head. I kid you not. I definitely think we are in for it. Even though it’s the least of my worries, I hope I don’t have a seizure from the blinking lights.
Yes, I am going to Las Vegas. Sin City, if you will. I did agree to this, but that doesn’t mean I’m not getting cold feet (and sweaty armpits) just thinking about what I’ve gotten myself into. I mean, my bridesmaid who organized all this has been here three times—with her friends, who are sorority sisters from college and continue to call themselves “the Dirty Dozen.” One of them may or may not have paid $150 for a tiny, cursive “DD” tattoo last time they were here and another may or may not have woken up in a strip club with 
her childhood blanky wrapped around her head. I kid you not. I definitely think we are in for it. Even though it’s the least of my worries, I hope I don’t have a seizure from the blinking lights.
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