Whitney Houston is in my head....

Ugh when I was getting ready Sat night at the hotel the only thing on TV was American Psycho, and there's the scene where he's discussing the merits of Whitney Houston's work...and one song was playing and UGH UGH I haven't been able to get it out of my head ever since. Mother effer.

I was all psyched to unpack, do boatloads of laundry/ironing, and then right after I just popped a load in the wash Marmalade jumped on the bed and proceeded to pee on my comforter cover, my fuzzy blue blanket, the fitted sheet, the flat sheet, and the mattress protector. Which normally isn't AS much the end of the world when I can shove that crap in the wash, but I had JUST put in a load already.

So now i'm all "pff, whatever" about unpacking and caring about being ahead so as usual I'm backlogged on all the crazy cleaning and laundry and lord knows what else needs to be done to function as a grownup.

Will write about Vegas tomorrow...all I know is that I left Kraig for a few moments after I got my lap dance (after all that boob in my face, I felt like I needed to see some naked men...and...dang...those boys EARN their keep! And hands down, the dude with the knee pads pretty much had every chick in the place breathing a little too heavy....even for a strip club!) and I came back down, he was plastered, everyone had bought each other lap dances, and somehow my wallet has ALOT less cash than was in there before.

I probably wouldn't be so tired if I didn't stay up ALL night with Kraig who was puking nonstop...It got to the point where I was terrified that he had DIED on me, and then I'd hear him heaving and I'd think "oh thank God, he's still puking, he's still alive...."...along with "if that mother effer dies before we finalize on the legal paperwork, i'll kill him"....